I know that some people, the ones with catlike vocal reflexes, will immediately modulate their tone to accommodate the sudden overall drop in sound level and carry on a conversation as though nothing happened.
But I can't do that. I actually lack the capacity to just stop something I'm doing at the drop of a hat. Which means that
- I sucked at Musical Chairs
- I cannot EVER stop peeing in mid-stream, and
- I will ALWAYS continue talking at a 250-decibel level for at least 10 seconds after the impetus for doing so has been removed.
Not that I have ever done that.
Anyway, if you can’t go from shout-to-whisper in under a second, the next-best thing is to hang out with similarly-afflicted friends. And then you can just have the most inappropriate possible conversation at top volume while praying that, if the music stops and someone ends up shouting into the void, there's a 50%-or-better chance that it'll be the other guy.
Scene: The boyfriend and I are at a Chinese Restaurant, trying to have a conversation in spite of “Angel In The Centerfold” pumping at full volume from overhead speakers.
Brad: (shouting) Are you coming over tonight?
Kat: (shouting) No, I have to go home and do laundry.
Brad: Come on, just come over tonight! You can do laundry tomorrow.
Kat: No! I haven’t been back to my apartment in five days and I want to change
Kat: What do you mean, "why?"?!!
Brad: Well... fine, maybe I’ll just... do something.
Kat: Alright, maybe you should.
Brad: And you’ll never know what I’m up to. I could be doing anything. I could be out on the town.
Kat: You could be.
Brad: With the dog.
Kat: Oh, of course.
Brad: Just me and him, a couple of bachelors, taking a dump on the sidewalk.
Kat: Rock on.
Brad: It’s gonna be awesome.
Kat: Totally. And then later, you could put peanut butter on your balls and let the dog lick it off.
Kat: And it’s not cheating, you know, ‘cause it’s your dog!
Kat: Ha, ha!
Brad: Actually, I would never let him near me. It (music abruptly stops) MAKES ME NERVOUS WHEN HE’S GOT HIS TEETH, LIKE, SIX INCHES AWAY FROM MY DICK.
Brad: (whispering) Shit!