According to Adam Levine, he is standing at a payphone trying to call home in vain. All of the quarters he needed to place the call were spent on you.
Let’s unpack this. As if Adam Levine would ever be stranded at a payphone.
First of all, I can’t believe no one ever showed Adam Levine the payphone trick where you say HITHISISADAMIMATHEMALLPLEASECOMEPICKMEUP when the operator asks who’s calling. Net net, he could stop lamenting all his spare change spent on you. He could’ve just called home, like we all did when it was pouring rain and we rode our mountain bikes to the library, and we had spent all our quarters on Lemonheads and Slim Jims at the Quik-E-Mart.
More troubling though: Was he really thinking that spending spare change on you was going to impress? Where did he take you? Pinball Pete’s? Did he let you win at air hockey? Swoon. Don’t you have to use tokens there, anyway? Pssh.
You know, maybe the spare change is symbolic. Maybe Adam Levine is just poor at budgeting. He blew through his Proactiv piggy bank, got all bougie with The Voice, spent that amazing salary on tattoos and skinny jeans with no pockets. No pockets? Ergo, nowhere to store a cellphone. No wonder A-Lev was forced to use a payphone. He’s without a phone and a roll of quarters, marooned with a five dollar bill at a phone booth that smells of armpits and urine. And we all know how well payphones work when some moron tries to stuff a bill through the coinslot.
Or maybe, as he writes in Payphone,”If happy ever after did exist/I would still be holding you like this,” he erred first in holding you like you *were* a payphone. I myself am more of a snuggler, preferring the full-armed embrace to that of being handled like a free weight or a bottle of root beer, which can also be bought with all of one’s spare change.
Just kinda want to shake him, like this love has taken its toll on you, bruh. See if you can flag down an Uber and call it a day.