
I was on the metro one day, sitting across a curious boy and his two parents. Stopping at a metro station, the screech of the metro announced the eminent stop, followed by the sound of doors electronically rolling open, amplified by however many doors a metro of multiple carts has. The noisy shouts and over-multi-layered speech, grunts, and chit-chatter of masses fighting to get on and get off simultaneously slowly fades out, making room for the television voice and music, amplified by the hollow space of the subway and multiplied by however many television sets they have at the metro station.
The curious boy's ears perk up and his eyes twirl, asking his parents "Who turns off the television here?"
The dad responds "no one," and the mom pats the curious boy's shoulder.
The metro gets into gear, heading for the next station. And between mom and dad, sits the curious boy on the metro.