Commuting Rants #2 Music
There are people who stick chewing gum under handrails. There are people who make web ads that play music automatically, so that you have to search through all your tabs to close the fucker. And then there are people who think that because they are isolated from the outside world; tinny Eurovision-esque music blaring from their ears. That they are somehow exempt from feelings of embarrassment that keep us all in check.
Dancers: Head-boppers, deck scratchers and swayers. No it’s no okay. Being a man, and English, I have to get pretty inebriated to stem the flow of self-loathing and before I even attempt to unleash body form its arhythmic cage. So I suppose in part my annoyance is my own doing. But I just feel embarrassed for them. But not only that, standing near one is akin repeatedly being poked in the arm. It’s Monday, it’s hot, we are breathing burps and armpit-air. Don’t seem happier than me, I don’t want to know.
Well I suppose that leads nicely onto bus DJ’s. I get it, the tube is noisy, Apple make some pretty crappy basic headphones. You crank the sound up to max, it sounds awful. You are a minor annoyance, I’ll be praying you get tinnitus. My real gripe is with people who play music out of their phones and then talk over the top. Stop making these fucking phones! They are the scourge of the underground. I can’t think of a single instance when something like this would be useful. What happened in that meeting? ‘Let’s create a phone capable of noise pollution,’ I have pretty appalling taste in music, I wouldn’t inflict it on anyone else. Yours isn’t much better. 
Singers. You don’t see them very often. There is a party of me which finds them quite entertaining in fact. But you can feel the collective shift away as someone stares into the middle distance, mouthing ‘Bad Romance’ in mono-tone. Putting up with crazies is something you learn to do living in a big city, and we become acutely aware of the tell-tale signs. Either that or it’s the smartest way to get a bit of extra wiggle room in the mornings. 
While I’m still spewing bile someone sent me this. I don’t think there is much hope.
Next time, walking -B
