Noise
May 08, 2004
One thing I’ve come to really hate about Japan is the noise. I’m on the 10th floor and when my windows are closed, nary a peep is heard from the outside. Since summer is creeping near like the sweat that slowly runs from your hair into your eyes, I’ve been sleeping with the window partially open. The noises have returned. There are first off, the recycling trucks that come around. They take old electronics and machines that you don’t want and they probably strip them for parts and sell them. They take things like televisions, computers, refrigerators and the such. The great thing is, the service is free. The shit thing is, they have this blasted speaker on top that blasts a stupid tune followed by a recorded message of what exactly they take and don’t take. It is really loud and annoying, especially when you’ve just awaken from a cool alien-fighting dream.
Next, in my old apartment, there were the food trucks. They’re these little pickup-like trucks that sell food like ramen, fish, bbq skewers, and etc. They have ridiculously annoying recorded messages as well. The sweet potato truck blasts this message that to me, sounds like, “YAAAAKIIIII…. MOOOOO KWAY MOOOOO”. It’s devastatingly annoying.
There’s the kerosene truck as well. There are many houses that lack central heating and as such, the tenants require little kerosene burners. These trucks provide a much needed service to all the old ladies and dudes that would have trouble lugging around a canister of 18L of kerosene. Great public service. Ridiculously annoying music. This song would fit in Sesame Street because it’s catchy and sung by children. It’s also the kind of song that leads 15 year olds to kill their classmates with automatic rifles.
Let’s not forget the ass kids with their little scooters. I swear that on Wednesdays at 12:30am, there’s one person who deliberately drives his scooter around, reving the little 10hp engine over and over again. Usually I’m in bed naked at that time so my motivation to go downstairs and peg him with my BB guns are quite low. One day though, I will get that turd ball.
Lastly, I’m going to close with drunken business men. It’s a well known fact that Japanese business men, or salary men, as they stupidly call themselves (they get a salary and they’re a man… salary men), work long hours and afterwards are coerced into a drinking binge that leaves them no time for sleep or for their family. They clumsily stagger home while laughing and talking really loudly. I’d like to peg their drunken asses with my BB guns as well.
