While we do have that big gaping hole, it’s not quite big enough for the enthusiastic crowd I hear in there, and I’m sure there are all sorts of fire regulations being violated. I would venture down the hall to investigate, but I’d hate to find myself in a mosh pit or something.
Besides, I know it’s not really a concert, but only because I occasionally hear the voice of a DJ. The guys who are building our kitchen are blasting a classic rock station that is currently playing a live recording.
This represents a new stage in the work, because, previously, the guys have leaned toward softer music, played at a lower volume. I’m pretty sure I’ve even heard polkas a couple of times.
I don’t know who’s in the big gaping hole today. It could be a window installation specialist, because I think we’re due to have windows put in this week. But it’s more likely an electrician, because, well, you know, electric guitars and all that.
Ah. Now they’re playing “Jack and Diane,” by Johnny Cougar. Or John Cougar Mellencamp. Or John Mellencamp…whatever name he had when he recorded that. Maybe Prince. Anyway, I like this. I can sing along.
But it’s still too loud for me to work, even though I write junk mail for a living.
Of course, I could go down the hall and ask them to lower the radio, but that might make them angry. Throughout my life, I’ve made it a policy to try not to anger certain people. Policemen for one. Waitresses who have yet to bring my food. The mailman. I think it is appropriate to add “guys who are assembling my kitchen” to the list…especially if it’s an electrician who’s putting all sorts of wires in the walls.
Wait. Now I’m hearing voices. It’s not the DJ from the radio. It’s not coming from my PC. I don’t have my phone off the hook. Please, Mr. Electrician, turn the volume on the radio up so I don’t hear the voices! What are they telling me? Am I going crazy?
I listen carefully, trying to find the source. It seems to be coming from the window. I look out and…some of the guys are having lunch on our stone patio, right beneath my office window, and they’re having a perfectly sane conversation, but speaking kind of loud, probably so they can hear each other over the rock music.
Well, at least I’m not going crazy. I guess I’ll just wait and do my work tonight, after Led Zeppelin has left the building.
See you soon.