This week I got on a bus and found someone listening to music on his phone. This happens from time to time and I feel tempted to offer my headphones to the perpetrator but I never do.
Anyway, this guy was a whole other level of intrusive because he began rapping to the beat of the music. Or maybe I should say, practising rapping because sometimes the lines were fluent and sometimes they weren't.
And nobody said a thing.
I couldn't help thinking of the rappers who would get on the buses in Medellín. Their rap was skilful and pointed, it told the truth about corruption and poverty and most people would give them a coin or two before they leapt off to do it all again on the next bus.
Sometimes their lyrics were so close to the bone they were assassinated - like murdering poets, a friend said.
But as far as I know, our Edinburgh rapper was unscathed.