The swamp cooler: the newest in tools of torture

Knock knock.

Who’s there.

Swamp cooler.

Joke ends there. Will return to it in a moment.

“YES!! Jackpot! Temporarily. In passing.”

Such began my journal entry this morning. I was referring to the absence of the upstairs neighbors, the Clack & Clomp Couple, for the second morning in a row.

So. It. Appeared.

There’s but one word when they’re away. But one small five-letter word that says it all: Bliss.

Their absence brightens my world immediately! Dramatically! Because when they’re away, their Elephantitis of the Walk stops. My ceiling stops vibrating. Their intrusions halt. My space stills. Heck, *I* still!

I’m not only getting it from the inside but outdoors. Indoors they go THUMP THUMP THUMP. Their sounds reverberate through my entire studio. They announce their comings and goings by their stomping and their presence. Their presence is frequent. Usually one if not both are at home. So I’m verrrry rarely alone even though according to the lease I live alone. HA!!!

It’s a situation that’s been driving me batty for 7 months. Seven solid months. Seven solidly shitty months. I’m slowly coming around to knowing I’ll have to move. It hurts to do so, I like this space and love love looooove the location and view. Without those two key perks, I woulda been outta here by now.

The Tortuous Thumping Apartment, as I call it now. Certain residences or roommates earn nicknames, usually because there’s some undue and undeserved hardship ad/or trauma associated.

Thumping Inside. The couple above in my space.

And now Thumping Outside. A persistent unrelenting beating KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK … into seeming infinity.

THEIR swamp cooler. Directly above my space. IN my space.

Something’s wrong with the damn thing. Could be a belt but it’s not my job to find out. It’s the job of the repairman. Who to date hasn’t serviced the damn thing. Been a week since I put in the maintenance request at the rental property company. They’ve acknowledged it. Quick on the ball they are not.

I’ll tell you this about a swamp cooler that goes KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK without pause or change in rhythm for hours on end. That’s right. HOURS. Not minutes. HOURS!

It provides insight into the power of Chinese water torture!

The brain … it’s not designed for sameness … for repetitive thought and sound … over and over and over and over and over and over and over. It is not designed for repetition of sound without variance.

The brain needs … wait for it … stimulation from various stimuli. Shock! A repetitive and unchanging drone of a drip-drip-drip is unhealthy. Maddening. And if left to continue (especially to the exclusion of all other sounds) is a great tool of torture and method into madness.

The Chinese knew this. They knew it well. They are the world’s expert at torture. Research it if you don’t believe me. Suss out their torture devices. Very inventive. Frightening. And frighteningly superb, if you’re into torture. (I’m not.)

Now, I wouldn’t call the upstairs Clack & Clomp Couple a pair of Chinese torture artists. It’s not their fault their swamp cooler pounds pounds pounds pounds pounds. How they live with it rests, I venture to say in their general insensitivities / obliviousness to environment/sounds.

However, they can be held responsible for turning the damn thing on! (If I had a swamp cooler that banged that much, *I* wouldn’t use it … simply because I wouldn’t want to disturb my neighbors and drive them mad with hours upon hours of …

KNOCK KNOCK

Who’s there?

Swamp cooler.

No punch line. No joke.

End of story.
Beginning of throbbing headache.
Entry point into madness.

The Chinese overlooked THIS torture device

The Chinese overlooked THIS torture device

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