Where's an Invisibility Cloak When You Need One?

Car time for me is like gold. If I have to drive somewhere - and I'm alone - I relish the quiet. I love to be alone with my thoughts. Today, though, I was practicing my choir songs, working on a difficult passage from Handel's Messiah, and at every single robot I was accosted by street hawkers trying to sell me stuff. The whole scene went something like this:

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
(No thank you, I don't want any cell phone chargers)
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hal-le-lu-jah!
(I already have a pumice stone, thank you.)
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
(No sunglasses today, thanks.)
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hal-le-lu-jah!
(Don't you dare wash my windscreen!)
For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!
(Aaahhh. NO! I told you, I don't NEED a cell phone charger!)
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
(OR an inflatable Spongebob Squarepants!)
For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth!
(They're lovely, but I don't need a beaded giraffe)
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
(and even if I had money, I still wouldn't buy a cell phone charger!)
The kingdom of this world is become...
(Asseblief, man! Can you just go on to the next car?)
The kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ...
(How can you sell that DVD when it just came out in the theatre this week?)
and He shall reign forever and ever
(You can stand there all you want, and I will acknowledge you and treat you with dignity, but when you stick your face in my window and won't leave me alone after I politely decline your offer for a poster diagram of the digestive system, do NOT try to tell me that something is wrong with my tyre so I will roll down my window because I know you're lying.)

I just want to practice my choir songs in peace. Please? Pretty please?