Behind me a guitar was being tuned. The tuner then addressed the crowd and launched into the Rod Stewart version of “Sailing”. He was truly terrible and gave the lie to Tanenbaum’s thesis that music on the underground leads to a decrease in crime. I, for one, harboured dark violent thoughts and stared fixedly at my iphone screen as he sought compensation, sticking a to-go cup in my face. I was back in Paris, looking forward to immersing myself in one of the great cities of the world. This musical loser on the rather damp and dirty RER B from CDG to Gare du Nord was raining heavily on my parade.
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