ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A city worker has had her commute home this afternoon ruined after tuning into the local Top 40 FM station and not liking what she heard.
“What is this shit?” Meredith Coleman asked herself as she slowly cruised down Robins Road in her base model A-Class Mercedes Benz.
Through a soft warble of synthesisers and a drum machine, the 35-year-old account executive’s attention was diverted from the meandering Volkswagen in front of her and toward the lyrics come from the stereo.
“This is gibberish. What station is this? Triple J?” she thought. Often she’d found herself zone out of the radio, only to zone back in when something harsh from UnEarthed came on.
“What is this shit?”
It suddenly dawned on Meredith that this shit she was listening to was the new Taylor Swift album about being a depressed billionaire with no mates.
“Christ,” she said to herself softly.
“This sucks.”
Upon arriving at netball, she heard her friends talking about how much they loved it. Meredith nodded.
“It’s great,” she said.
“My favourite song is the one about Charlie Puth being underrated.”
More to come.
