One of Those Guys

The beginning of summer. Time to roll down my windows and blast some tunes for the world to hear.

I’m at a stoplight when the guy next to me rolls down his window. “Hey!” he shouts, “Will you turn that down a little?”

I stare at him blankly. “I’m just trying to spread some music to the world.” I turn the knob counter-clockwise a quarter turn.

“If you want to call that music, fine. Just keep it in your car.”

“You realize,” I shrug, “that I’m just going to turn it back up when you’re out of earshot.”

The man throws up his hands in exasperation. The light is green. He makes a left turn. I turn my music back up and eighth of a turn clockwise. What a strange person.


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Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XVII

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