Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Loud mouth on the MBTA Red Line

It's the age-old complaint living in the city...some idiot talking (too loudly) on a cell phone.

We all talk on the phone: Hi hon, we're pulling into the station right you want me to pick up anything before coming home?

But there is this thing that we all should be aware of now, and that's talking loud and the dude on the Red Line this morning.

You know who you are, because I stared at you until you noticed. I heard you over the sound of the train and my iPod turned up full, that's how loud you were. Do you have any idea how loud you have to be to drown out the racket of a subway train? And you kept it up. You. The guy in the blue-striped shirt and the khakis (the uniform of every tweaker in this city) and your teeth too big for your mouth.

You had to have a clue, bud, but you just kept talking and talking. I mean, I was glaring at you. Don't know what you were saying because it wasn't English (or Spanish, French, or Italian because I would have been able to deduce a bit of that) but you just kept it up in your tired, monotonous tone.

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