Yesterday morning at the gym, the young woman next to me in the hair-drying/make-upping room opened her phone and started playing music, loudly. I didn't mind so much until -- through the cell-phone-is-not-a-stereo distortion -- I heard Janie's Got a Gun. "She had to take him down easy and put a bullet in his brain / She said 'cause nobody believes me. The man was such a sleeze." Not the lyrics I need to hear when I'm getting ready for my day.
I contemplated putting an understanding hand on her shoulder and asking if everything was OK, the kind of gesture people talk about post-school shooting, etc -- but I'm not really that kind of gym neighbor. The next song was something like R&B or smooth jazz -- it's impossible to tell genre through those little speakers -- so I'm sure she's perfectly sane, just has bad taste.