ME? I’m the guy in earbuds. All day every day, from the train to the coffeeshop to the office, through every conversation. Because I’m a dick, that’s why.
What? How dare you judge me when you have no idea what’s going on in my head? It could be anything from 90s Britpop to classic Desert Island Discs to the sound of my own sweaty breath.
It’s not your concern if I’m ‘missing out on the natural sounds around me’. I’m so used to not fully interacting with the world that a true crime story told in painstaking, gruesome minutiae is as natural to me as birdsong.
Having the full use of five senses is overrated. I’ve got maybe 40 per cent of my hearing so I get the gist of what an office manager, Sainsbury’s cashier or girlfriend is saying without getting hung up on details.
I can still tell when someone’s shooting me a disapproving look because I’m listening to an Ibiza dance mix while they’re talking, so don’t say I’m not able to engage with the world. I just don’t care.
People call me rude, but I’m too distracted concentrating on the Michelle Obama audiobook to remember that there’s anyone else inhabiting the planet alongside me.
So yeah, I’m the earbuds dick and I’m not sorry. Want to whine about it? Go ahead. I’m wearing earbuds.