I was on a train the other day. An Obnoxious Youth in a huge cap with a hoodie hood over it, glaring and blaring hip-hop from his phone, got on and immediately claimed a whole six-seat section of the train, putting his feet up on the seats.
The train filled up, and everyone steered clear of him. Until a little old grannie got on.
“Excuse me, young man,” she said, walking slowly into his legs so he’d have to move.
“You won’t like my music!” He said in a desperate sort of way.
“What was that, son?”
“You won’t like my music,” he said in a clearer voice.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Music’s music, isn’t it? So, who is this singing then?”
They had the most adorable little chat. By the end of it, his hood was down and he was sitting nicely in his seat.
Hats off to you, grandma. I want to be you when I grow up.