I liked this short story by Keith Ridgway in The New Yorker. It's about about an older woman whose young neighbors are having a party has so many good lines in it.
Here's an excerpt:
He was pulling some sort of, what on earth, headphones? Big black things, with the big fat pads for the ears.
—Headphones here, for this, which is this old
A small . . . a phone?
—An iPod. My old iPod. And I don’t know what you like obviously, or even if this is a stupid idea, you might not want to listen to anything at all, but there’s playlists on there, some easy-listening things, some pop stuff, and some classical as well, you can, will I show you what, will I show you how this works?
See also: other things to which I've linked.