These Trivia Blog posts come from the emails I send out as Quizmaster of the Gael Pub Trivia Night every Tuesday. But seeing as how they comprise most of the writing I seem to do these days, I thought it fitting to include them on the Pale Writer blog as well. I won't include things like info about categories or drink specials, but will keep the bulk of the rest. Hopefully you enjoy, so much so that you come out some Tuesday at 8:30 (3rd Ave. b/t 82nd and 83rd)...
Dear Loud, Non-discreet Talkers on the Subway:
I appreciate the fact that you’ve managed to overcome your shyness and fear of public speaking. I do. Truly, afflictions such as these severely hamper the lives, careers, and macking abilities of thousands of people around the world every day. However, maybe take it down a notch or two when we all have to share a confined metal prison on rails for 20 or 30 minutes a day, huh?
I’m sure you’ve at least heard (during those brief periods of time when you manage to shut your goddamned mouth for a few seconds) of the term “indoor voice.” You know, it’s that thing where you speak as if you’re not standing on an active airport runway or in some sort of barnyard situation with animals braying and carrying on louder than you. A level of volume that doesn’t cause the ears of the person sitting next to you to bleed. Pretend that the person you’re talking to is in fact sitting right next to you, and not standing on the other side of some wide, expansive canyon or ravine. That way, the things you tell this person can remain between just the two of you, and not everyone else on the A train.
Because really, the issue isn’t just your obnoxious volume, it’s the awful things you’re saying. I could go the rest of the day and be just fine not knowing about your shockingly revealing doctor’s office visit, how poor your current lover’s oral sex skills are, or what colorful racial epithets you’ve managed to pull from the dark recesses of your brain to describe someone you’re not fond of. And yet, here I am, here we all are, knowing this and so much more about your terrible, terrible existence.
None of us enjoy riding on the subway. Much like something you just described out loud regarding that recent trip to the doctor, it’s smelly, it’s undependable, and it’s full of people that you’d rather not spend too much time with on the surface. But you’re making it worse.
When I’m on the subway, especially if I’m on the way to one of our fine Trivia Nights, I just want to be alone with my thoughts, read a book, and prepare myself for whatever it is I have to do that night. With all your blathering and cackling, I can hardly find enough room in my thoughts to come up with an excuse not to give money to the kid selling candy for his basketball team. So please, do us all a favor and realize that much like subway preachers or anyone from Fox News, no one wants to hear what you have to say.