Apartment Noise - Letter to the Editor of Bp Sun

Suddenly I tripped over my own legs and fell to the ground. The monsters circled me.


I began mentally rehearsing my excuse that I would use to the friends I would make in heaven, in the event there really was an after life.


"Listen, they were six or seven guys and I was just one. Beside for the fact that they were each three times my size." (Nobody wants to feel like a wimp, even in heaven.)


Then the leader of the group (I concluded that he was the leader from the fact that he was wearing a T-shirt that said Leader) pulled out a weapon of some sort. It appeared to be a two-foot hammer.


Silently I prayed that it was not solid metal. I soon found out that my prayers were either; a) not heard b) totally ignored.


The chief monster began mercilessly whacking my head with it. BANG! CLANK! BASH! BOOM! (As this was taking place I retroactively felt apologetic for any vulnerable nail that I had hammered during my petite lifetime.)


At that moment I opened up my eyes. Words are insufficient to depict my feeling of relief. It was only a nightmare.


I was safe and sound, tucked under my blanket with my cherished arms at my sides. There was no reason to be afraid. Children get scared by dreams I thought, not adults.


Well, maybe adults also get a drop frightened, but that’s it. As I lay my head back onto my pillow, I jumped.


BOOM, BASH, BANG, CLANK! It was the same crashing sounds from my nightmare but this time it was for real (and in a different sequence, if you were paying attention).


Shielding my unprotected head from any imminent blows, I was pleasantly astounded. The sounds persisted and my skull was still intact.


Not wanting to take any chances I remained under my blanket until I was certain that it was safe to come out.


As I exited my shelter I was hit by inspiration. The racket was coming from the street.


Getting on my stomach I crawled towards my room window, and slowly hoisted myself up. I peered out the window expecting the worst. But all was well. It was merely a few construction workers breaking the street. Now it all made sense. It was not the monsters’ hammer causing the ruckus, it was a shirtless worker’s shovel that was ripping open the side walk for the fourth time this month.


Boy did I feel stupid. That meant that if they were working already, I must have had slept in. The fact that all the workers were brandishing beers strengthened my premonition that it was mid-day.


I lunged for my undersized clock to check the time and was in for yet another surprise. It read 6.37am!


Maybe this was a second nightmare. But it was not. This was for real. My sleep had been rudely interrupted by destruction work just below my window.


Where I lived in America a person can get the death penalty for such barbaric conduct.


This episode has since repeated itself almost daily, even on Saturdays.


Perhaps someone on my block orders a wake up call from some off Brand Company that has their own unique manner of doing things. But why must I suffer?


Can’t they avoid all this by just obtaining a key to the guy’s apartment so they can demolish a section of his residence in the wee hours of daybreak. Or, may I dare suggest a preposterous solution, how about doing the job in broad daylight thereby not disturbing my several precious hours of rest.


The truth is that it does sound ridiculous.


I ask you to please excuse my foolishness.


I have not been myself lately. It’s stemming from my recent fatigue.


Shmuly Tennenhaus. Budapest

Source: Budapest Sun Online

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