Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Musak Wars

After considering the K-Pop situation for several days, I had left myself with several options:
1. Ask Mr. G to turn it down every time he get's overly exited and pumps up the volume
2. Buy him a pair of earphones and hope he gets the hint
3. Cut the wires on the speakers
4. Steal the speakers (this was actually much higher on the list than it appears to be since the SuperFantabulous household could use a pair when we are watching our terrible TV shows together).

I asked Mr. AwesomeCool what to do. He usually knows how to maneuver everyday social interactions much better than I do.

"Either ask him to turn it down or buy him earphones."
I considered this.

Then, today, I came up with option 5. I decided to use the constant blaring K-pop as an opportunity to get my zen on. Any horrifyingly painful experience is just an opportunity to better yourself disguised as an insanity-inducing suck-fest. If I could learn to accept that K-Pop is an occasionaly loud part of life, I could learn to accept anything.

This morning I came to work and I listened to K-Pop. It wasn't so bad. I would rate it somewhere between listening to someone vomit and fingernails on the blackboard. I was zenning my ass off. Luckily, we both have classes in the morning so there were hunks of decompression time in between 'sessions'.

The afternoons are not quite as pleasant. After a few minutes, I went to a dark place. In my mind, I was doing and saying all kinds of horrible things that would make the remainder of our professional life together absolutely miserable. Back in the day, I probably would have done a few of those things. I didn't lose four biology partners freshman year of high school by being too nice.

When I'd reached my limit, at the five minute mark (really though, this has been building up since about a week ago when I decided that it was completely, outrageously, uncivilized for him to subject me to this torture) I had to think fast. It had to stop immediately. I turned toward him, ears ringing, eyes wild . . . and I asked him to turn it down.

He turned it down.

Now I can watch my terrible TV shows in peace.

Crisis averted.

2 comments:

Chicken Wire, the Harbinger of Heavenly Annotation said...

Just buy him some pink in-ear headphones. That'll send a message all its own.

SuperFantabulous said...

I think those would match his purse nicely.