Pipe Down

What’s the story with people having really loud, one-sided conversations on public transport, where people can obviously hear every word they’re saying? Sure, we can’t hear every word their conversation partner is saying, but that just makes it even more infuriating. Besides, people who do this are usually gasbagging at such full pelt that it’s hard to imagine how the other person could get a word in edgewise. The poor soul in question doesn’t really have it any better than the rest of us, being forced to hear out the same long-winded monologue.

What was my point again? Oh yeah – it particularly bothers me when I don’t understand what the perpetrator is on about. It’s fine if they’re talking in another language; that’s different. What I mean is, I get annoyed when I feel like they’re talking meaningless drivel that doesn’t make any sense. But what annoys me even more is when I suspect that their talk does make sense,  and is beyond my realm of understanding. It’s like, how can someone so infuriating know something that I don’t?

Today’s case in point was a lady on the train extolling the virtues of hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Near Melbourne, she exclaimed, oxygen therapies are really taking off in the wellness scene. It’s only a matter of time until Adelaide gets on board at the same level, apparently, and it’s going to revolutionise the treatment of all kinds of conditions. Well, that’s all well and good, but how about revolutionising my commute so that I don’t have to sit here wondering what the heck hyperbaric treatment is?

Things went from bad to worse when she started going into the gory details of various types of gangrenous wounds. Evidently, these are something that hyperbaric chambers can help treat, and I must admit that I’m glad there is a treatment to be had in this day and age. I just don’t need to hear about it before the clock’s even hit 9am. Gosh almighty.