Some people have great sights and sounds from their apartment windows, unfortunately I’ve never had the good fortune.
Many years ago, I did live across from a woman who occasionally walked around naked. But that was more a case of “I have to look because you are naked, not because I like what I see”.
The biggest torture I’ve ever experienced was undoubtedly when my home office window was about 2 metres from the kitchen window of an amazing Chinese cook. From about 3pm the intoxicating smells would start drifting through my window making any effective work impossible. I never did work up the courage to ask if I could pay them to cook for me too.
Lately, I’ve often found myself humming Sound of Music tunes. It took me about a week to realise that this wasn’t driven by a subconscious lust for Julie Andrews, but by very faint and consistent piano practice in a nearby apartment block. It reminds me of when my little sister was given a electronic keyboard for Christmas. The next day, on a 7-hour car trip, we discovered to our horror that this machine had no volume control and contained a set of automatically programmed tunes like Camptown Races. Now that’s a fatal combination.
I hate to admit it, but my incessant singing of Weird Al songs probably doesn’t add much joy to the lives of those nearby. It’d be better for everyone if we all just left the music to our local opera singer and her practice sessions.
Frankly, it’s surprising we can hear anything over the dryer noise.
