But if you're unlucky, you'll get to hear this dude:
The Militant does not know his name, but he may or may not have seen him "perform" before. He is this skinny dude with a blond semi-mohawk and carries an el cheapo acoustic guitar, slightly out of tune, sans protective case or bag (just goes to prove how dedicated he is to his instrument, right)? He stands, usually near a doorway, announces his name and calls out song titles, as if it were a real gig. Then he sits down on the floor and starts "playing," which is in the form of rapid 16th-note power-chordish strums on the guitar, full of repetition and devoid of melody, structure, dynamics or fretboard prowess. And ALL HIS SONGS SOUND THE SAME.
To his credit, perhaps the most redeeming aspect of his "performance" is that he does not sing.
But yet this n00bador has the audacity to ask for money from the riders for his, er, "display of talent." Thankfully, no one gives him anything. Which the Militant is glad for. Because this valedictorian of suckitude probably arrived into town via the Hollywood Greyhound station five months ago thinking he'd be some sort of rock star, probably after playing way too much Guitar Hero, yet he's so bad that no one wants to be in a band with him, so he busks on the Red Line, perhaps to feed his meth addiction.
Now, the Militant isn't opposed to busking or the display of performance of any art on our transit system. The Militant loves that kind of stuff.
But if you try to pull off any of that, please make sure you have at least a decent amount of um...TALENT?
The Militant would rather hear something like this on his Red Line trip (American a cappella group Naturally Seven performing in the Paris Metro):
So if you ever see ol' B.B. Stink sit down on the subway car floor and do further injustice to all that is six strings, please let him know openly that he sucks. Or better yet, tell him, "The Militant Angeleno says you suck!"