Last night the young people living on the corner of our street decided to have a party.
Each time I approached the brink of sleep I would be rudely yanked back to awareness by the shouts and the bursts of raucous laughter; by the car tires howling as some guests departed and still more arrived.
I tried to block it out by listening to the soothing sound of the ocean on my MP3 player – the waves crashing on the shore, the water lapping gently. But even when I couldn’t hear the racket, I could still feel it. The persistent thumping beat of the music pounded its way across the street and up through the floor, taking up residence in my belly where it pulsed and throbbed like an alien invader.
Now the party was still in progress at 5 am. To give them their due, the revellers had made a small concession to the comfort of their neighbours by moving it inside the house, instead of sitting out on the veranda in the still night air.
Of course, by this time they had all consumed enough alcohol to completely drown any inhibitions they may have had to start with. Now every spoken word was possessed of such a degree of hilariousness that it was greeted with ear piercing shrieks of laughter. It seemed as though everyone felt compelled to express just how much fun they were having by uttering frequent whoops of delight – the longer and louder the better.
Needless to say, being inside the house was now doing little to contain the noise.
Today we are tired and feeling ragged around the edges. Our first thought on rising this morning was just how satisfying it would be go across to the house across on the corner and serenade the now passed-out occupants with a symphony played entirely on my pots and pans.
We didn’t of course. It wouldn’t just be the party people who were jerked awake at 6 am by our auditory assault. We just had to take comfort in knowing that one day, the revellers would probably outgrow their youthful need to spend Saturday nights ingesting as much alcohol as humanly possible. And then, one night when they are feeling a bit weary and looking forward to a nice sleep – the people across the road from them will crank up an all-night party.
©Lyn Murphy 2011