2004-03-15 - 2:43 p.m.
Last weekend, my ears almost died and went to heaven.
I heard the Foo Fighters� version of �Darling Nikki,� by Prince, and it was sublime. I always felt like Prince held back on the guitar parts in that song, for fear of alienating his audience. Or something. The way he sings that song is such a tease, like with each verse he�s lightly nuzzling a part of your body. And then when the guitars come in, and he�s screaming �Come back, Nikki, come back,� he�s just grinding you until you feel like you can�t breathe. Just when you get close, oh so close to the edge, he slows down and returns to the tease. I think Dave Grohl does a good job of turning the grinding part into an interlude that�s completely and utterly thrashing, consuming, taking you to the hilt. He needs to work on the tease a little, but the band did a damn good job on the cover.
The first time I heard that song I was 18 and working at a computer store. The general manager was in his early 30s and spent more time chasing the female college students at the store than he did managing it. I�d heard he was a dog so I avoided him as much as I could. I was sheltered and na�ve, my understanding of how things worked between men and women was as antiquated as the horse and buggy; he was fast and worldly, his understanding was quicker than sleek black Porsche 911 Carrera.
I stood behind the register in my bright yellow shirt and khaki pants. He started walking my way.
�Hey, little Nikki,� he said.
�It�s Nicole. Only my family calls me that.�
He made a remorseful face.
�Ooh, sorry, didn�t mean to step on any toes. It�s just that whenever I see you, I think of that song.�
�What song?� I asked innocently.
�You�ve never heard of �Darling Nikki,� by Prince?� he asked, leering at me. Some of the guys within ear shot started snickering.
�Never heard of it,� I told him snottily. �Maybe it�s too OLD.�
I walked away, my steps matching the beeps from the other registers.
�Listen to that song,� he said to my retreating back. �Come back, Nikki, come back!�
My ears burned as I clocked out. I watched and waited until he was busy before I walked past him to the exit.
That night I told my friend what happened, and she told me he was �like, totally coming on to� me by singing that song. She played it for me over the phone and I was mortified. Did he think I was that kind of girl? All of my conservative Christian upbringing reared its ugly head and made me feel ashamed that I�d done something to make him think that of me. But part of me liked it, thinking that even in a yellow shirt and oversized khaki�s I could make this older guy fantasize about me using him up and spitting him out, with him waking up the next morning, and my not being there.
I�ve totally dug that song ever since. It�s my bad girl theme song.
�Thank you for a funky time. Call me up, whenever you want to grind.�
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