vendredi 6 février 2009
They are back.
The street musicians that make my working life miserable.
Why does their making a living have to make my making a living so unbearable?
Last year they didn't start as early. I don't remember wanting to kill them until around at least May.
This year, they seem to have set up permanent camp outside my office window.
Every day, for about six hours per day, I get treated to either:
a) droning violin music; or
b) droning accordion music.
Sometimes in the summer I get a treat and get something different, like guitar music, which is a bit more bearable.
I guess that is what I get for daring to work in a high-tourist area.
Apparently it is a brother/sister team. Can't they find some other part of Aix to annoy?
If it could just be limited to certain hours per day, such as from 12-2 when people are eating on the terraces. Or like 30 minutes per location, then they have to go bother someone else.
That would be okay.
But no, seriously, every day starting up at about 10, going until about 1, then starting up again around 3 and going for another three hours.
Calling the police doesn't really help. By the time the police get around to stopping girl-watching by the Hôtel de Ville and mosey up here, I am ready to start tossing water balloons.
The musicians get chased away by the police but only move to about 50 meters away (better, but I still hear them), or else they just come back to the same spot in half an hour.
The only way I can somewhat tolerate it is to put earplugs in or listen to music. I suppose I could move my desk to the other side of the building, either by or in the bathrooms, which I have considered.
When I come home at night, I still have the constant droning going on in my brain. It's like the soundtrack of my life, a darn "Amelie" song on permanent repeat.
It's not even like I am humming it (scree! screeeeee!!! scree! scree!), it's like I actually still hear it in my head.
So if some day you hear of someone going nuts and getting arrested for throwing tomatos at street musicians in Aix, it is probably yours truely. And I already know what my punishment will be- that's right. Psycological torture.

7 commentaires:

screamish a dit…

dearie me, such language!!

I know how you feel. Ive almost had to cancel lessons because of the frenzied accordion players in the square under the office.

The worst are the "south american indians" ...a hotch potch or Bolivian pan pipe music and faux native american...Saturday market...try sitting on a terrace and having a quiet espresso with that in your ear!

Im sure you know them too...

but Mr guitar at Cours Ju, the one that spins his guitar around, he's great, I love him....

Starman a dit…

Why would the police stop girl-watching?

Anonyme a dit…

Maybe if you tell them that you'll give them 20€ if they move permanently to another location?

Betty Carlson a dit…

Dedene has a good idea. That sounds dreadful.

I couldn't read the entire title to this post BTW -- it pours over into your sidebar.

Have a good Sunday evening!

deedee a dit…

I thought of you the other day as I walked past your office :) and now that you mention it, the guy with the accordion must have been right under your window. I like the water balloon idea.

JChevais a dit…

I would go positively potty too.

I have a colleague who is a bit of a spaz.... I thought that was bad (she just radiates negativity) but I think that your case is worse. I can at least tell her to lighten up. Maybe park some dog doo where they like to play? It's winter and perhaps the smell wouldn't bother much?...

Anonyme a dit…

Saw a travel channel show about Aix today, complete with accordion and couldn't help but giggle and think of this post.

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