Wednesday, 2 August 2017

Crap Lumberjack

I was woken up at 8am this morning by a set of lumberjacks from a company called B and N Tree Care who seemed to be cutting down the evergreen in the next door neighbour's garden where the squirrels live. The noise was like nothing I've heard before. I thought the window must have been open because it sounded like someone was operating heavy machinery above my head. I opened the window and shouted down: "Is there any chance you could do this a little later?" I knew the question would fall on deaf ears. "It's 8am," the lumberjack quipped, arrogance dripping from his ear defenders, "I'm allowed to make as much noise as I like. I have a living to make." I explained that I was trying to sleep. "Should have gone to bed earlier," he said, like a smug, barrow boy Tory.

I loathe it when so-called "morning people" imply that a night owl's lifestyle is somehow lazy. I work in the arts. For my whole life, my working day has started and ended later. 

I tried to write, as usual, at the kitchen table, but the sound of rotary saws was so intense that I realised my skin was beginning to crawl. After an hour of constant noise, I spontaneously burst into tears, and realised it was time to take myself to a cafe. Passing through the garden, I stopped to ask the lumberjacks when they were expecting to finish. "Why?" He asked, somewhat aggressively. "Well, it's quite loud and I'm trying to work from home. Actually, it doesn't really matter why I'm asking the question. It's not going to affect the answer!" He told me he didn't know when he was going to finish (he totally did!) then repeated his line about needing to make a living. And I thought, "yes mate. So do I. And as a composer, I can do without a million decibels of white noise bombarding my ears whilst I'm trying to write."

As I walked up the path, two more lumberjacks were pushing a big tree trunk in a wheelbarrow. As they tipped it out, one pointedly and sarcastically said to the other, "careful not to drop the log. Logs are really noisy." He then looked at me like a child who had won a name-calling spat in a playground. I flipped him the bird. 

You know what, B and N Tree Care? You may be brilliant at tree care, but your customer service sucks!

No comments:

Post a Comment