Whenever someone promises they'll give me music, I force myself to not get excited until they actually deliver on their promise. Before you write me off as a cynic (though that also might be the case), hear me out:
Long ago (or not so long ago, depending on what you consider long), a certain boy promised me a flash drive with 1,000 of his favorite songs on it. I was excited, obviously, and anxious to receive the goods. The problem was, I was on the west coast and he was on the east coast. I didn't want to be a nag, so instead of asking for the music, I mailed him mix-tapes of my own, in an attempt to rev his memory. He'd always call me to to say thanks, and end the call with "Oh, I still owe you that flash drive!"
As things started slipping south (as things tend to do when a couple occupies two different coasts), I started actually asking him for the flash drive, in fear that I'd never get it otherwise. First he complained that he didn't have a flash drive. Then, once he got the flash drive, he didn't have an envelope. After about six months of this, I gave up.
Then, one night, I was greeted with "I mailed the flash drive!" I was SO excited. Every day, I waited by the window for the mail truck so I could immediately dart to the mailbox to see if the flash drive was there. Finally, a regular paper envelope arrived with my name written in his chicken-scratch handwriting. I tore open the envelope. Inside was a card, saying 'Here's the flash drive...I hope you like it...etc...,' but the flash drive wasn't inside. I checked the envelope to see if it had fallen out of the card. It was then that I noticed a flash drive-sized hole in the bottom corner of the envelope. It had fallen out somewhere between New York and California.
I called him, almost in tears, because the flash drive that was going to save us had gotten lost in the mail. He didn't seem as upset as I was, but promised he'd resend it.
Guess what guys - he never did.
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