[ WP ] Your neighbor is the protagonist of a musical . Any time a musical number starts , anyone within a certain radius ca n't help but join in . You are trying to have one normal day when you hear music approach .

I never asked for any of this. 
 
 My life is n't the best, but it's mine. It's normal and straightforward, maybe a bit boring, but it's mine, and however plain it is, I worked for every inch of it. I wanted to live out the rest of my days in obscurity, playing internet games and posting on the internet like an introverted stereotype. 
 
 And then this guy moves in. 
 
 I do n't even know his name. All I know is that whenever something good happens to him, or whenever something bad happens to him, or whenever *anything happens at all*, he starts to sing. Which would n't be so bad if *everybody* did n't join in. 
 
 Even I joined in a few times. But while I was dancing down the middle of the street in happy abandon, singing about how he had just gotten a raise at the theater company, while some upbeat orchestra played from behind a shrubbery somewhere, I realized that my frozen pizza was probably burnt by now. And right then, I decided that I wanted out. 
 
 So when I was in the middle of grocery shopping, and the music started – my ears have been carefully trained to pick out the first few chords from a mile away – I acted. 
 
 Now, I never go anywhere without my headphones. They cancel noise, but more importantly, play different music. I quickly slipped them onto my head, and pushed play on my shuffle playlist. 
 
 The sweet sounds of Micheal Jackson filled my ears. I closed my eyes in relief. No music, no dancing. Just me and my little world. 
 
 Of course, I still had to dodge the dancing shoppers, and had to use self-checkout because the cashiers were part of the chorus. And I had to wait for ten minutes in my car, because the grand finale took up the only way out of the parking lot. 
 
 But when it was all over, men and women coming back down to reality, they quickly got out of the way of my sedan as I drove out, “ Smooth Criminal ” still playing in my ears. 
 
 He had his life, and I had mine. And I was never getting tangled in his again.
