Bitch, please.

"Could you maybe turn that radio down a notch?"
- "What radio?", the busdriver asked defiantly.
I stared at him and sighed internally.
"The radio I'm hearing at the moment", I said.
- "Is that [level] bothering you?"
I looked at him apologetically.
"Oh, no sir, of course not. I put down my book, got up from my comfortable seat in the middle of the bus and walked all the way to the front to say 'Hi', then noticed you had the radio on and decided to ruin your day by asking you to turn it down."

Or possibly I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes and told him "Yes, it is", before he obliged and I could return to Stephen Fry's teachings on poetry.