A metal head's dream denied by a still satisfying reality

On the train to work today I sat next to a young woman who was fairly attractive and small. She put her headphones in and scrolled through her smartphone to select a tune. Immediately some form of true Swedish metal core was blasting out of her headphones. I did my best to listen in and see if I could decipher a few tunes, tried to catch the album graphic whenever she checked her phone and figure out what band compelled this person.

Yes, of course, metal is bigger than ever now, and all of us guys have noticed the increase in the female count at shows of bands that tend to be on the more aggressive side. So, to a certain extent, it's becoming more and more presumptuous to say that a woman, this very woman, can't be a metal head. But for many years, she was only a dream for many of my male friends.

Now, I have a wonderful and loving significant other, so I had nothing more than curiosity at heart, but all the same, there was no need to come off as a creep. I quit toying with the idea of tapping her on the shoulder and opted for the position of the modest metal dude. I felt righteous in reserving myself in order to let this mystery be.

Glad to have done it, too. As it turns out, when I got up to get off at my station, I realized that the music originated from a metal dude two doors down who was blasting his headphones so loud that I thought it was right by me. A smile crossed my face as he and I both walked out.

I mentioned this anecdote to a fellow metal colleague, and he too recounted having been fooled by his desire of that rare metal chick. In a similar circumstance, he realized it was his own headphones in his bag, still blasting, not hers.

Fare thee well in thy search, brethren.