Dear Girl Who Sang Really Loudly On the Redline Home Today:
Yes, I know you were practicing for an audition. Even with my iPod blasting Anberlin at top volume, I could hear you - both your singing & the very loud phone conversations interspersed throughout. I want you to know, however, that audition brush-ups are simply no excuse for Metro musicality. There’s absolutely no reason on this green Earth why you shouldn’t be able to wait 15 minutes to begin your one-woman operetta.
I know you think you’re quite snazzy with your houndstooth scarf & your gold ballet flats, but your outstanding fashion sense was completely & utterly negated by your lack of public transportation courtesy. In case you didn’t notice (& I am quite sure you didn’t), the poor passenger who was squashed in a corner between you & your tagalong friend (your theatrical sidekick, no doubt) looked like she wanted to punch you right in the vocal chords. The guy sitting across from you actually had his fingers in his ears – I wish this was my wit running away with itself, but alas, it is true.
Please forgive me for hoping that you do not get that part you’re auditioning for. For the sanity of future redline-riders, I pray that you never have any reason to practice that song in public ever again. Actually, I hope you don’t have to practice it privately, either, or I’m sure your household pets will start plotting how to best slit their furry wrists.
In closing? Kindly shut your face next time you take a seat on the rocky road toward Glenmont – or anywhere else, for that matter, because I know I’m not the only one who was bleeding from the eardrums today.
♥ The Suburban Sweetheart