Life Sans Headphones

The following article is a rather pedestrian spiel about headphones; sorry about that.

I'll admit, I can be a bit of a snob when it comes to the devices I listen to my music with, but not in the obvious sense (no 'Sennheiser or GTFO' mentality here) I just know what I like.  What I happen to like are those silicon-shrouded earphones that nestle comfortably inside one's lug-holes, mainly because they produce a good amount of bass/tonal range.  They also have an added bonus of the people around me not being able to hear the tinny remnants of whatever I've chosen to endanger my hearing with on that particular commute, which I consider a kindness.

Speaking of commuting, music is the only thing that keeps me from going insane as a result of being crammed into various metal tubes for up to an hour at a time, nestling all-too-closely to the bustling masses' protruding extremities.  I can press my headphones into my ears, hit 'Play', close my eyes and fool myself into thinking that I am not actually trading armpit-sweat with the 19-stone Russian that I have been pressed against by the heaving commuter populous; at least until he moves and I get an updraft of the stench, dragging me back to the harsh reality that is the Northern Line at 8:30am.  

These distraction devices, which I had managed to hold on to for a considerable period up until last week, cost around £4 and I was content to keep them for as long as they functioned.  Sadly, due to the inevitability that comes with me being a fucking moron, I lost them in the very shop I spend 9 hours per day running around. I turned that place inside out in an evidently fruitless attempt to locate the damned things, finding nothing but disappointment, dust-coated pennies and long-lost relics that had been kicked underneath the photo lab as part of some bygone era.  

Defeated, I shuffled on home, having to bear the many loud, grating, screeching, wailing and downright off-putting sounds that London has to offer.  The next day, my journey to work seemed alien, as my ears were forced to soak in the repetitive train announcements, beeping doorways and the coup-de-grace, sniffling passengers.  One in particular would periodically inhale snot so sharply and violently through her sinuses that it was akin to someone tearing coarse sandpaper asunder, over and over again.  After the 10th time I was noticeably agitated; by the 30th time I found myself wishing some maniac would come in and flay her, or give her a damn tissue so she can liberate the mucus as well as our suffering.  In-between her nasal rasping I was being assaulted with the high-end of about three different genres of music coming from various people's headphones; I was in my own personal Hell.

By the end of the day I was unable to bear the prospect of being subjected to more unpleasant noise and purchased some cheap headphones from work; sadly these were not up to the task.  Actually, they were so poor that at first I didn't even recognise the track I was listening to.  It sounded like the music was being played whilst submerged inside a toilet cistern and I was standing on the other side of the bathroom door; In a word, terrible. 

I immediately went online with the intent of purchasing a like-for-like replacement but it seems they don't make that exact model any more; looks like I'll have to get with the times and grab myself a pair of Beats™.  Just kidding, I'd never stoop to such ridiculous levels, not even if my brain were on fire and those overpriced atrocities contained the facilities to extinguish such agony.

 - S.M

There was no point to this post other than to moan about how dependent on music I am to keep me from flensing the people around me.