“Do you have bad hearing?”
I had just taken my blue headphones out of my ears and was wrapping them around my iPod. My ears slowly adjusted to the sounds of the outside world, and I glanced up after hearing someone’s voice.
“What?” I hadn’t heard the question. I didn’t know who had asked it or where they were.
“I said, do you have bad hearing?”
I turned my gaze to some girl in my sociology class. She stared at me with a puzzled expression, probably a common expression for her, as she sat on one of the wooden benches outside our classroom. I could feel myself becoming irritated.
“No, I don’t,” I said, and then turned away again. I hoped this would end any communication with this girl.
“Oh. Well, your music was really loud,” she said, tossing her long, bleached blonde hair that looked completely fried, dried, and fake. Seriously, whoever dyed her hair obviously didn’t understand the art of making it look natural.
Now I was really starting to get pissed.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t like to hear people’s conversations when I walk to class.” Again, I turned away. She continued on with her bitch crusade.
“I could hear your music when you came in. It was really loud. You could even damage your hearing.”
It had gotten to the point where she didn’t even deserve a response. Idiot. Maybe if she wasn’t dressed in black leggings, a t-shirt, and Ugg boats I would have had more desire to listen. As it was, she was and I didn’t. I pulled my iPod and headphones out from my backpack, put the headphones back in my ears, and turned on my music again - loud. In the corner of my eye I watched her puzzled face turn into one of offense. I smiled.
It hadn’t been the first time someone had called me out on my music volume. I walk around campus every day and continually get glances from people I pass. In my car, I get the stare down from moms at the grocery store as I pull into a parking spot. I notice people staring at me, as if they are waiting for me to acknowledge their presence and turn my music down, but I ignore them.