Boy Racers

I live in the middle of the Jordaan. I love where I live…. mostly.

Two things I do not love about where I live just now; plumbing problem and Vespa ralleys.

I have a plumbing problem, specifically every load of laundry is currently costing me two towels to mop up the leakage. I feel like the sourcerer’s apprentice.

Last night, starting sometime after midnight (I can be quite accurate on the time because I was mopping up after a load of washing until 11.30) a bunch of guys with their Vespas gathered at the corner of my street for no productive reason beyond testing the echo capacity of the various streets in the neighbourhood.

Based on my observations for Vespas to run well you need to

  1. rev the engine frequently
  2. take short sprints of around 50 metres around every half hour
  3. pile three people onto them

Apparently they don’t work well if you wear a helmet at night.

The noise is pretty hard to sleep through, afterall the motorbikes were named after wasps. I lay in bed practising yoga breathing and trying to attain a zen enough state to fall asleep. When that didn’t work I lay in bed fuming and ranting to myself that young people nowdays have no sense of social responsibility, don’t they have homes to go to, and jobs to wake up for in the morning.

This went on until sometime between 2 and 3 – I’m less exact of the time it ended because I put my iPod on and listened to music to block out the noise from outside.

But this morning standing in my pjs, looking at my messed up kitchen, I came up with a better solution; buy more buckets, store the water, and have target practice on the boy racers.

image from iralifack via flickr

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