Why do young people talk so loud

So I'm sitting in Pete's coffee house, cuz that's the house I find myself in when all the other "houses" are taken or I'm simply not in the mood for Starbucks or Coffee Bean.... when a young pretty, very VERY small blond with this obnoxiously booming valley voice comes blazing in and plops right next to me. She's there with her pretty, meek friend who clearly looks to her very VERY small blond friend, to solve all her problems - they discuss going to med-school and reaching their potential. They help each other solve life's mysteries ... one is quiet and "Demure" the other is a "Louch" - which is 'loud' and 'ouch' put together. "Demure" is aware of her environment and speaks in hushed tones in the hopes that her noisy counterpart, "Louch" will adhere to social mores and quiet down. Instead of hushed tones however, Louch get's louder, to the point where EVERYONE IN THE SAN FERNANDO VALLEY CAN HEAR HER above the din of espresso machines and buzzing latte' sippers. Louch doesn't mind, her stage is Pete's and her audience, the patrons. Well, of course everyone hears, afterall, her parents went though a heavy divorce during her years at Harvard Westlake School, which made Louch an overachiever and since she didn't have "a say" in her parents divorce, she learned to yell over everyone instead... just like Pink...I saw her story on E! Behind The Rockstar - I think that's the title - I could be wrong - and found out that it was the divorce of her parents that forced her to do drugs and then become the overachieving rock star she is today. This could be Louchs' Achilles heal ... and maybe one day she'll be on E! I pause and wonder, maybe she just can't hear ... for actual... for real. That perhaps she needs a hearing aid. But that wouldn't be so awful, right? She could shut out anyone out she choose? So I think, "well, if that was actually the issue, I might feel bad that she couldn't hear, and that she had a hearing aid?" But in this moment, I'm not that contemplative, and so move on. I am however, consumed with her being unbearably small (it's not fair). With her Lululemon teency spandex grey panties ... might as well have been panties ... they were barely visible ... she'd strut to the bathroom (went 3 times) with her hands down the sides, fingertips inside the waistband, revealing her skinny mid section. She does a lot of yoga I'm guessing (she came back to the table and threw her arms around and over her head like 'cirque du soleil shoulders out of socket' sort of stuff), and with that purple sweat shirt w/embroidery on it (so cute, i needed to know where she got the damn sweatshirt but she was so loud, I didn't want give her the satisfaction of asking and drawing more attention to her... or god forbid, too much attention to myself - she was doing enough of that on her own, and I'm simply too "humble"), well I'm just ... just!? Uh hum. Truth: I was her... I was Louch at her age. I think? Maybe I wasn't and just wish I were. Which is why I secretly resent this 4'11, 12 year old. She has the freedom that I've never given myself. The ability to speak what she wants ... OUT loud... VERY VERY LOUDLY WITH THE ASSUMPTION THAT ANYONE CARES ... and yeah, we 30 something's do care. We wanna be loud too. So to keep from cringing, we lean in, listen and wonder what we need to do to be like her again ... maybe someday. She was simply so small and so totally impossible not to listen to, with all that agonizing over her days growing up in a divorce and going to Harvard Westlake School, I started feeling all sorts of feelings... even sorry for her. Made me almost wish my parents had gone through a divorce, ya know? Perhaps then I'd have given myself the permission to speak out and become my very own Louch.