Stuck on the Opera Station

Story Submitted by Jacob:

I have in my profile that I'm a fan of opera (I don't really sing, but I've produced a few shows in college in beyond) and that formed the basis of my brief relationship with Debbie.  Debbie, you see, was an opera singer.  We had a lot about which to talk.

While I was impressed with her credits, I had expected no performance of any kind on our first date.  I just wanted to learn more about her and have a nice time.  However, Debbie must have had the wrong idea, because she showed up with music, and she was ready to sing.

We were seated in a pretty small but popular restaurant for lunch, and I assured her that, while I wanted to hear her voice, she didn't have to sing that day.

She insisted.  "I brought music, didn't I?"  She drank some water, pulled out music, and belted out Carmen's Habanera.  She was obviously very talented, but a sleepy Saturday morning restaurant seemed not the place for an operatic performance.  She sang for a solid five minutes and brought the place to a standstill.  When she was done, there was applause, and I voiced my compliments.

She beamed and the restaurant flowed back to normal.  But Debbie wasn't done.  She asked, "Mozart or Puccini?"

"We can hear more later," I suggested.

She said, "Or why not both?"  She slammed her music down on the table and sang out from Mozart's Così fan tutte.

This time, the diners were not as impressed.  Some covered their ears, and one or two said, "Thanks, that's enough."  One said, "Change the channel."  Opera, yes, may be beautiful, but not everyone wants to hear it at the same time.

I cut her off.  "Debbie, Maybe we should hold up and bring this somewhere else."

She continued to sing, ignoring me.  An older woman approached us and said to Debbie, "Sweetheart, you're quite a singer, but maybe you could take it outside once you're done?"

In response, Debbie pulled out another piece of music and sang out what sounded like a Halévy piece.  I said, "Debbie, I don't think it was that piece of music that was the issue.  I think people just want to eat their meals in peace."

She gathered her music, stood up, and sang loudly as she walked out of the place.  I glanced at the older woman, who stared at me as if to ask, "What's wrong with that girl?"

I followed Debbie out, but Debbie was moving quickly down the sidewalk, singing the entire way.  I called after her, slowed down, and stopped.  Debbie was clearly in her own world, and she simply didn't seem to want to be reasoned with.  I went home, and never heard from her from that day to this.