Relax, I haven’t become a tree hugger, nor am I swearing off oral sex. My problem is that every damned time I go to the men’s room, there’s somebody in the other stall humming.
And it’s not always the same guy, either. Different people. It’s really disconcerting when you’re trying to pinch a loaf and there’s someone 2 1/2 feet away just getting to the bridge of “My Heart Must Go On.” I mean, really now. Is this necessary? I can still detect (how could I not) what smells like you’ve dragged a rotting corpse into the stall with you, and I can still hear, over the humming, what sounds like a fireworks display, or like you’re violating the aforementioned rotting corpse. Enough, already!
On that note, I’m off to find the Times and a set of earplugs.