Today, I shared the quiet room with Mush Mouth. I see this old guy just about every day, but he's never in the same place. Some days, he's in the individual study rooms, some days the public areas, and, unfortunately, some days in the quiet room.
Mush Mouth wears large, over-the-ear headphones and watches movies on his laptop. I know because I can hear everything he listens to, sometimes even when I have my own headphones on. He's either super deaf, or his headphones are butt. He also plays with his phone a lot with all the sounds on. Once or twice, he's had his headphones plugged into his laptop while playing Candy Crush or something on his phone with the sound at full blast. That time, I had to break out of my introverted shell and say something.
For some reason, Mush Mouth decided to eat from the loudest bag of pre-packaged popcorn in the world. This was after he seasoned it with something from a creamer bottle and made sure it reached every piece of popcorn in the bag. He chews like he doesn't have any teeth, hence the nickname.
Sometimes, I listen to music when I write, but sometimes I just like the quiet with nothing in my ears. I can't do that around Mush Mouth. The tinny screams and explosions in the otherwise quiet room drive me nuts. He seems immune to my passive dirty looks.