Late night madman

Here's a hint that you've lived in the big city too long...

We were awaked a couple nights ago around 4:00 in the morning by a crazy guy out on the street. For what seemed like a good 15 minutes, he was wandering up and down the street, absolutely screaming his head off - swearing, vigourous death threats, the whole nine yards. If this had happened to us back in the day when we had just moved to the big city, we would have been wide awake, calling the cops, fearing for our lives, that kind of thing. As seasoned veterans of the city life, however, we had a different reaction.

First off, we didn't even fully wake up. (Usually, that sort of thing is reserved for fire alarms only - and they'd have to be pretty skookum alarms, too.) We kind of heard him, listened for a minute or so, and then started simultaneously critiquing his technique. "Oh no, that's no good, he's screaming far too loudly, he's going to wear himself out." "Yeah, unless he takes a breath, he's going to pass out and wake up with such a sore throat." "And you call those death threats? Hardly. He's just saying the same thing over and over again - no imagination whatsoever." "He could learn a lot from crazy swearing guy." (Crazy swearing guy is our local regular.) "There's no modulation, it's just full volume the whole time. He's got to learn to capture people's attention."

At least, that's what I remember. I'm sure we weren't quite so eloquent, it was likely more along the lines of "Stupid loud man, too loud, no imagination, needs to pace himself, stupid stupid. *snore*" But still, it amuses me that our first instinct was to grade him on his performance.