This is a tribute. A statement of abhorrence dedicated to the inconsiderate and ill-mannered ignoramuses who feel (a little too) welcome to blast their choice of terrible tunes thunderously whilst on public transport.  Please STOP.

REWIND to the time when an idiot imposed a truly terrible tune on you, rudely disrupting your carefully constructed sanctum of peace. You felt like cutting off your own ears and choking said idiot with them. PAUSE for a moment, (for the sake of your soon-to-be endangered oesophagus) and realise that this is what it feels like for the majority of your fellow travellers.  They are all secretly planning a myriad of painful ways (taking tips from tortured artists and murder-mystery novelists) to stunt your ignorance.

FAST-FORWARD to your golden years, when your hearing has dreadfully deteriorated but you’re thankful for the hearing aides that amplify the agreeable hums, echoes, purrs, whirrs and jingles around you.  The Real Slim Shady on 142 volume is not one of these.  Even when your future self turns off the hearing aides to escape this exasperation, a horrible screech still seems to be tearing through what is left of your delicate eardrums.   It will no doubt, make you want to beat the perpetrator deaf with your cane.  STOP your present self, (to avoid a humiliating death by caning) and know that if you don’t, the senior citizens will one day rally against you and launch an attack.  They probably have a pretty good grasp on war strategies… as well as knowing how to make it look accidental.  They are delicate but deadly.

Now, commence RECORD of the death stares, disgruntled glares and general timbre of dissatisfaction that seems to be emanating from almost every passenger within a 100-metre radius of you.  If looks could kill, your bones would already be rotting 20 feet under. It’s time to put the Real Slim Shady away. Save him for your ears only.

STOP. EJECT. POWER OFF.