Pricks on a Train

I had, until today, thought that the bemusing pastime of listening to shitty music, played through shitty tinny mobile speakers, on public transport was something of a London centric occurrence.  But, after getting on the M10 to go down to a second hand shop in Friedrichshain, I was confronted by two of the little grunting twats, comparing their collection of aurally offensive excreta.  Playing one, then babbling on about how amazing it was before the infuriating gesture was repeated in reverse.  All the time giggling away, seemingly having the time of their little, insignificant lives.

During my next German lesson, I'm going to learn how to say "Oi, moronic pricks, turn that shit off before I ram those phones down your throats".

Ok.  So, I may be exaggerating my annoyance for comedic effect (after all, they were only on the same tram as me for two stops).  But in general the trip itself was a bit of a bust.  After eventually finding the second hand shop, I went in and was greeted by what appeared to be, from all accounts, a tramp.  He showed me his vast array of gleaming guitars, priced from 100 euros up to 210.  The 100 euro guitar was a putrid red colour and had been dropped off the wall once, meaning the back corner was cracked, hence the super cheap price of 100 euros!  Bargin.

I did realise I've not been to McDonalds in a very long time too.  They just haven't enticed me in, even if they are as lovely and communist as this one.