My heart will go on.

Last night as I was settling down in front of the TV after a long, but not-so-hard day's work, I was suddenly shaken from my television-induced daze by the sound of a Celine Dion ballad(in French mind you) being blasted from someone's car stereo in the street below my window.

I moved quickly towards the noise in an emboldened attempt to identify the culprit. Could it be a middle-aged woman in a mini-van, or perhaps a group of tourists who had taken a wrong turn onto my block? Or maybe it was one of my adorable, but flaming male friends come to chat?

Needless to say, none of my guessing or mental preparations could have prepared me for what happened next.

There, in a white car with all the windows down was Rico Suave. Loud and proud.

Maybe I shouldn't have ignored those short cut-off jean shorts or the spangled tank top after all.

But regardless, as I sit here today the sounds of Celine's voice haunt me still.