They were avoiding the kid like he was a leper.
Do-rag, black t-shirt, shorts pulled down below his butt cheeks to show off his boxers, blasting rap out of his cell phone, no headphones attached. Chubby guy, maybe twenty years old, with a dumb expression on his face, oblivious to all the dirty looks he was getting as people peeked up over their newspapers.
You're not allowed to listen to music on the Metro without headphones. If I were a cop I probably could have issued a citation. But all I could do was talk:
"Excuse me, would you mind putting on some headphones?" I asked.
"Don't got none," he replied.
"Then would you mind turning off the music?"
"Why don't you come over here and make me?"
I totally could have taken this idiot. I've been fantasizing all day about teeth coming loose from his bleeding mouth. I really wanted to put him in his place. You shouldn't just be able to break the law with impunity, annoy everyone around you, and then be a prick when someone asks you to stop. And then when you invite someone to a fight, he should be legally allowed to kick your ass.
But instead we exchanged unpleasantries and I got off the train, walked ten feet to the door on the next car down, and got back on.
And that's why I've never said anything to these idiots before. I always plan it out in my mind, and I abort the operation because I have no "nuclear option" at my disposal. I can talk, and I can leave, or I can suffer through, but ultimately I have no control over whether the music stops.