Briefly coming out of retirement to share this gem with all y’all.
Dude is sitting in my usual spot this morning. No big deal, I’ll just sit next to him (after he spins around and gets his foot off the seat). He looks like a 1950’s KGB agent–more middle-aged than me, stocky, short dark hair, meaty face, and a frown. Looks kind of like Tom Sizemore from Black Hawk down, but he’s wearing slacks and a pressed business shirt. He’s got his Samsung Galaxy plugged into headphones, only one of which is plugged into his head. The other is left dangling so I can enjoy the “music” he has to share with me and the other passengers on this cattle car. Such a thoughtful little Komrad.
The sounds coming out of his headphones: I’ve never heard anything like it in all my life. Sort of like the anti-Chipmunks. It’s like he’s listening to 33’s on 45, but the voices aren’t sped up. Everything is the same tempo–almost exactly–same beat, like that Hee-Haw railroad sounding music. Boxcar Willie, Roy Clark, and Slim Pickins. Oddly appropriate for my morning mode of transportation.
It keeps going and going, and I’m all “WTF, I gotta see what he’s listening to.” I glance over but his thumb is obscuring the screen on his phone. I can get a glimpse here and there, but not really sure what I’m seeing. Is it some kind of party? A wedding? I can’t tell. Looks like a bunch of people milling about in a gymnasium somewhere.
He moves his thumb and I can finally see that he’s watching–I shit you not–square dancing videos on Youtube, and he’s got it turned up to 11. Once he’d exhausted his options on Youtube, he switched over to pure square dancing music on iTunes, and put it on repeat. It’s relentless and loud. Same horrible 2-minute “song” over and over again.
You know what? I think he’s actually studying the square dancing videos and “music”, as though he’s studying game films on Monday morning. He’s tapping his foot, and totally into it. I’m surprised he’s not taking notes. I’m starting to think he’s the guy who actually busts out the square dance rhymes at the hoe down.
Whack-a-doo-dee, Fiddle-faddle, lap-a-pack-a-poo.
Diddle-daddle, chubby-middle, Dink-a Link-a moo.
Full-blast, for a solid 60 minutes. I’d be surprised if you said you didn’t hear it, too. Is there a square dance competition in town this week? Some kind of convention? Is that Buck Owens over by the stairs? Are there square dancing gangs? Should we clear the streets of garbage cans and mailboxes in anticipation of the Great Square Dancing Riot of 2014?
I’m literally beside myself in disbelief and what I’m experiencing right now. This music is SOOOOOO bad, it hurts. I’m actually experiencing physical pain being near this noise.