A few years back I made this observation:
The volume of the music being played by a neighbour is inversely proportional to the quality of the music.
I went on to say:
I am convinced that those who play music stupidly loud in apartments or houses are those who fail to get positive attention by the normal method of not being a complete prick.
Little has occurred in the time since I wrote these words to give me cause to change my mind.
I am currently sitting on my balcony in Thailand having to put up with blaring music from the block opposite. The occupants of the apartment appear to be two men in their late 50s, lily-white, unfit, bald, and sporting recent tattoos and some swarthy chap with hair down to his arse who looks to be in his 40s but thinks he’s still in his 20s. I’m not sure what nationality these twats are, but I’d put a strong bet on their being American or British. Each has a Thai hooker girlfriend in tow, and it is probably for their benefit that the music is being played. And sure enough, the music is utter shite: commercial house from about 15 years ago. Stuff like Encore Une Fois and a remix of The Key, the Secret. We were all listening to this stuff during my second year in university, and we knew it was naff then but at least it was current. Now we have blokes old enough to be my dad – who would have been past 40 when it was fresh – playing it off balconies in Thailand. I mean, don’t they have any Rolling Stones CDs?
Like I said, I’m sure this is all done for the benefit of the women they have lolling about the apartment, who regularly get blind drunk and scream the place down. It smacks of a desperate attempt to appear young, or at least cool, to girls who really couldn’t give a shit who or what you are so long as you’re dispensing ready cash.
I’ve never yet met a sex tourist who I’ve found the least bit entertaining or interesting…sex tourists in the main are men who would find it difficult to get a half decent girl back in their home towns. You think that just because you’ve sat in the economy section of a long-haul flight for a day that you’ve suddenly become a fascinating person? Think again.
Words which would be lost on these dickheads living opposite me, I’m sure.