I was walking to the train today to go to work. You're thinking, "But, Michael, you clearly have a face for Internet!" Thank you. I know. But, it has yet to pay the bills. As I was walking down the street I was simultaneously attempting to unravel my headphone cords. You would think that if we as a species can create wrinkle free fabric then we could make tangle-free cords. If I ever get to make a science fiction film the only truly innovative thing in it will be tangle-free cords and hoses. "Sure," the line of dialogue will go, "we can send a guy to Mars, but this set of headphones is what truly sets humans apart from apes! Well... that and balding."
But, I digress. I was untangling my cords when one of the black rubber ear buds falls to the ground. Of course I started looking for it. But, after 30 seconds of backtracking with my face closer to the ground than it has been in a while, I decided that I was going to have to forgo my usual routine of chuckling softly to the wise cracks of the increasingly curmudgeonly Steve Inskeep. That and I saw a man exiting my apartment building and I surely didn't want to embarrass myself in front a person that lived in the same domestic sphere as me! Even though I, like most people who live in apartments in big cities, have never seen nor talked to my neighbors. I carried on down the street, minding my own business when I suddenly heard a raised voice coming from behind me. The only person behind me was my neighbor, and he was saying, "What are you going to do now that you can't listen to your poison? Go to work and beat off all day?"
My immediate thought was, "Surely he must be talking to someone on the phone and he is talking louder than normal because he wants people to know he's having quite the conversation." We have all done this, after all. But, then my second thought was, "Did you listen to Poison while you were masturbating this morning? No... no... I was listening to music, but not Poison! That's lovemaking music."
Do I like music and do I like masturbating? Yes. I do. I am a human being. And yes, I did masturbate this morning. But, a lot of people masturbate. Anyone who claims they don't like to masturbate is surely doing something terribly wrong. Sure, you can disagree with the morality of masturbating, but to disagree with enjoying it? That's heresy beyond any measure! Now, I don't do it that often -- maybe... oh... 17 times per day? -- but, like most people in the history of the world ever I masturbate in my own home. What's more I do it with the courtesy of my neighbors in mind! I do it in the bathroom, where the only window is frosted so that no one can see me, and I turn down the volume on the porn I like to watch. So low in fact that I can't hear the oppressively bad dirty talk, fake moaning, and muzak. I also like to listen to music in my home, as most humans do. But, again I turn down the muzak. So, what is this man's problem with me? I can only assume he is an irrational person, a sexually frustrated man who really dislikes Neil Diamond, or, perhaps, a bible thumping evangelist who wishes everyone lived according to his rules.
I never found out, however. Because as I was pondering all this he passed me in a huff, too busy being mad at me for making myself happy to be happy himself. I pray that one day he'll forgive me for my human endeavors and then rub one out on himself.