How Everything Is About Balance

10 Dec

The renovation, drilling and very elaborate hammering always began at 9pm and ended at 3am. After months of it, the posh restaurant beneath our apartment was ready for opening.  Mark and I honestly didn’t mind the madness: we are by nature night owls, so banging and clanging at 3am didn’t seem too wrong to us. Yet I harbored the ideal that when it did open, we would all be invited for drinks as a Thank You for our all-round tolerance towards dsytopian imagery.

We had put up with months of those: the bedroom wall trembling because a man was standing in the wall, drilling. The toilet seat vibrating. A leak in our kitchen caused their entire roof to collapse and start anew. Every night, a different part of our apartment shook and trembled, ready to burst and spill out hundreds of blue-clothed technicians. The fruit that was our house, spilling out blue technician seeds – lying in a daze, seeping into the living room carpet.

Then, around 3am, the sound of elaborate renovating slowly became the sound of elaborate drinking. The blue workmen got in touch with their inner bartenders, djs, and drunkards, all shaking with booze into the great blue oblivion. We heard them, night after night, in their private after-work parties that faded in the morning mist. Snarling songs.

We weren’t warned when the restaurant would open. The “Opening Soon” sign on the window was already one month late. Waitresses had been casted, were given hammers and drills and set to work. A dj was hired, whose musical tendency was not a decorative companion to conversations held in murmurs – but no one told us about that either. The tradition of the posh restaurant was being brutally broken… and we learnt all of this by sending in spies.

It opened on a Friday night. We were relaxing on the sofa when someone beneath us tripped and everything fell with a loud crash. Despite the national smoking ban, their cigarette smoke seeped between the floorboards  and invaded our apartment. The dj turned the music up. I’ll say this much for him: he discriminated nothing. Madonna was paraded with AC/DC, Wham! sang about their terrible choice in love affairs every Christmas, followed by Bryan Adams rocking the house about the summer of ’69. The Dirty Dancing soundtrack was remixed liberally with Alice Cooper. I’m surprised the alcohol didn’t curl in disgust. And at 5 in the morning, as we lay wide awake and stared at the ceiling, the first be-boozle-d men fell out of the restaurant and did what all drunk men do: they tried to sing.

That was when Mark got up. He has a proud collection of megaphones. All sizes. All sounds. He locked himself in his work room, which is the one directly above the dance floor. I lay in bed with a shark smile, as Mark unpacked his megaphones and drum set. It was glorious, I tell you. He has one megaphone that screeches a police siren, which he turned on and turned up as loud as he could. He set the amplifier facing the floor and with a second microphone, began yelling and screaming. Then he took his drum, strapped it over his back and paraded back and forth in the room, banging and yelling. I won’t recount what he said but it was delightfully unflattering.

I don’t know if they heard him. I don’t know how the war ended. I know he’ll do it again tonight, and I know I’ll join in. We’ll screech like witches, we’ll invite all our friends, and who knows what the point is. That’s not important.

The point is that everything in life is about balance. Mark was simply keeping it.


9 Responses to “How Everything Is About Balance”

  1. peter&anika December 11, 2010 at 4:00 pm #

    Sehr feiner Text Frau Soncco. Für den nächsten Krawallangriff stellen wir gerne Stimmbänder, Lungenvolumen, Hände, Töpfe, trampelnde Füße zur Verfügung. Auch ne Schlagbohrmaschine ist im Haus.

    Kopf hoch ihr beiden.

  2. Jane December 11, 2010 at 5:08 pm #


  3. Sigrun December 11, 2010 at 7:14 pm #

    What dicks, but Mark’s illustration is awesome, just like his reaction.

  4. Andreas Usenbenz December 11, 2010 at 7:23 pm #

    Oh my god ! wie haltet ihr das aus ? wann zieht ihr um ? wenn ihr hilfe braucht, sagt bescheid 😉

  5. Töm December 12, 2010 at 1:10 pm #

    Incredibly captivating read, Ritti! Looking forward to more!

  6. mark December 14, 2010 at 2:03 pm #

    Ich habe die Unruhestifter am folgenden Tage da unten besucht. Dabei wurde klar das der Lärm der letzten Nacht absolute Ausname war, warscheinlich. Wir haben ein Essen für zwei Personen und eine Einladung zum anschließenden Verdauungstanz bekommen. Die Nacht danach war Alles besser und stiller. Danke dafür.

  7. Akinkanju December 21, 2010 at 5:10 pm #

    Next time get all your friends involved – and me – for a free dinner.

    • rittisoncco December 22, 2010 at 12:07 am #

      Free dinner as a conclusion is certainly valid!!!

  8. Gerhard December 11, 2012 at 12:00 am #

    Hello Ritti, before the day is over I wanted to give my thanks and congratulations to your 2nd anniversary of your wonderful blog. Over 65 blogposts is an incredible number of a hopefully never ending source of intellectual and inspiring words/poems/histories/pictures/videos about things that you want to share with your audience. Thank you for that. It means a lot for me and I`m glad I explored it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: