Indoor Voices. Indoor Voices, Please.

The Metro gave me a headache yesterday. Many of you will scoff, and I will have to admit that I must correct myself – the Metro’s customers gave me a headache yesterday.

On both lines, I encountered a multitude of comments, shrill voices, proud declarations of ignorance, and sheer vapidity that made we want to hurl myself from the moving car. I couldn’t even drown out the voices with the help of my book. As I said, those voices were damn shrill and of course they concentrated in my area. In both cases, those involved sat either next to me or directly in front of me. I was trapped! Some samples (mind you, this wasn’t all, but I can only reconstruct so much):

On the Orange Line:

Woman #1: I could never live without a TV. I would feel totally disconnected from the world.
Woman #2: If I had to read for entertainment, God, I’d shoot myself!
Woman #1: I love Kristi Yamaguchi. I can’t believe that Tonya Harding did that to her!
(WordNerd: Umm, that was Nancy Kerrigan)

One the Red Line:

Woman #1: Every time I see you, you’re texting someone.
Woman #2: I am not.
(Woman proceeds to play with her BlackBerry, ignoring her friend. Please, let me never become this rude.)

Woman #2: I went on a calling spree last night. I called everyone in my phone. I figured that if no one wanted to talk to me, I’d make them! I think I bored some people, but that’s okay.
(WordNerd: Here I have to comment – what is with the fear of being alone with your thoughts? I ask this of anyone who whips out a cell phone the moment they’re alone. Self-reflection is actually a nice thing and if you don’t want to do it? Pick up a book. I guarantee you won’t want to shoot yourself.)

Woman #2: I didn’t wear any jewelry today.
Woman #1: Um, you’re wearing earrings and a necklace.
Woman #2: That’s not jewelry! That’s essential! Jewelry is, like a watch. When I don’t have earrings on, I will go and buy a new pair because I feel naked without them. I waste so much money on earrings!

(Both women are texting on their BlackBerries.)
Metro Disembodied Androgynous Voice: Doors closing.
Women: Oh my God! This is our stop! (They run off the train, the slower one getting clipped in the ass by the doors.)

I can usually tune out most Metro conversations (including the frat boy voices that are starting to really get to me whenever I happen to have low battery on my iPod), but these conversations were just too much. First of all, both sets of women were practically shouting. I was astounded by the lung capacity, especially for conversations so trivial. Second of all, there was deliberateness in those raised voices – it’s like they wanted someone to challenge them on their ideas, or at least wanted people to know that they did not care what anyone thought. It’s great when you don’t care what people think . . . when you have informed opinions. When you’re just doing the whole insipid, materialistic thing wherein you happily pronounce that you don’t like to actively engage your mind because that’s the way your world is and that’s that, my brain starts to itch and I long for a conversation that admits to some curiosity about the world. I just don’t understand where this dislike of learning is coming from, where having a TV with which to watch Dancing with the Stars means you’re connected, where self-reflection and silence for thought isn’t allowed.

The conversations grated on my last nerve. After the last two women left the train, I put down my book (The World without Us – during these conversations I kept on thinking how nice it would to have a world without idiocy) and winced at the sudden headache I had. I was trying so hard to drown out the voices and concentrate on the text that I gave myself a headache. Mind you, this book is an easy read so far – pretty fascinating, in fact – but those voices just tore at my soul and devoured my spirit.

I would say here’s hoping to a quieter ride tonight, but I’ll be focusing on getting to the bar and having a good time with friends before I head into the weekend. A long and much needed weekend that will be filled with rest, relaxation, reading and silence. Ah. Golden, sweet silence.