“Hey, Mario. How are you doing?”
“Hunh?” Mario asked, cupping his hand around his ear.
“How are you doing?” I asked again, very loudly. I was trying to be heard over the music at the bar where we were meeting.
“I can’t hear you,” he said. “The music’s too loud.”
It took some arguing but I finally got the bartender to turn the music down to a reasonable level. We were meeting for the Wednesday Night 8-Ball tournament of the Nosenada Social Club and killing some beer while we waited for the other three members.
“It sure is quiet in here,” Vernon said, when he walked in.
“Don’t even start,” I told him. “I just got the music turned down enough where we can talk. Music played that loud can damage your ears.”
“It’s dangerous in other ways, too,” Mario said. “Loud music put me in a bad situation just last Saturday morning.”
“What happened?” Vernon asked.
“I had breakfast in that new little restaurant up by Boca del Rio and the music was really loud reggae. I liked it so it didn’t bother me. After I finished eating, I was texting on my phone and needed to pass gas. A lot of gas.”
“Uh-oh,” Vernon said. “That could be bad.”
“I figured out how to do it,” Mario told him. “I just timed it to the beat of the music. Once I got a rhythm going things seemed to be working out good.”
“What went wrong?” I asked.
“I finished my texting and looked around and everybody was staring at me. That’s when I found out that the loud music was coming from my headphones.”
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