Slacker

In any city you have to take the rough with the smooth, with this many people crammed together somebody’s going to overhear everyone else.

So when I surfaced from the night’s slumbers at 7.30am to the sound of drumming the first thought was slight irritation, which soon metasized into extreme annoyance.

The first thought was “Someone’s got a new drumkit,” which is irritating at the best of times. Hint: If a mate has really pissed you off buy his kids a drum kit.

But maybe in one of the apartments opposite there’s some budding musician inspired by Ringo Starr (or even the Drummers of Burundi) working on his or her dream of one day making it into a band. Besides I thought, you've only lost an hour's kip and you can make an early start on the day.

But the really annoyance came when they stopped. This slacker only practiced for a touch over 10 minutes. You need at least half an hour in a practice session, preferably an hour, to get better. If I’m going to lose an hour of sleep in the morning I want it to be for a good reason, not just for a dilettante to make some noise once in a while.

While I’m not about to go out and exercise my right to bear arms it made me a little tetchy. That said I’d sound pretty stupid leaning out the window and shouting “Get back on those drums you little slacker.”