Okay, it’s summer. I get your point. But does that really mean I should spend my day listening to the struggling lawnmower a few hours round the corner? Surely not, I hope.
It’s already a steaming hot day with the sun belting down from a beautiful clear sky. I woke late this morning with a slight headache from the heat, made worse by the constant strain of a lawnmower pushed beyond belief along a stretch of grass that I presume is in need of a trim. You’d at least hope it’s not for the sake of it.
It reminded me of an occasion while waiting in the reception area of a helicopter training office, where I had previously had a one off flying lesson in a helicopter. It was time for a pleasure flight, to enjoy the scenery from above, without being distracted by the controls that had surrounded me. I was sat on a rather comfortable sofa, quietly chatting amongst the group of people I was with as an irritated woman made her way into the premises.
Her presence turned heads, before she had even opened her mouth. She stormed across to the desk and demanded to see the manager, who unfortunately wasn’t there to witness such event.
“What are these helicopters doing?”
It was an amazing question to ask. What were those helicopters doing in an airfield?
“They are being used for training purposes, is there a problem?”
It was a reasonable response to a fairly straight forward question – whether it was a little obvious or not.
“Well I’d like to speak to the manager please. Is he here? I want to make another formal complaint to the manager now. Where is he?”
She sounded awfully aggressive to the lady behind the desk, with students making their way into the reception area hoping to sign in for their lesson.
“The manager is away today, he’ll be back on Monday. Can I leave him a message on your behalf?”
Again, a polite response. What more could she have replied with?
“No you most certainly can not. Do you know how loud those helicopters are?”
At which point, with almost perfect timing, a helicopter flew down besides the window and landed only feet away from where the desk was. A quick personnel change and it took off almost straight away. It was amazing to see it so close from inside the little hut we were in, exciting me for my turn to run out under the rotor blades.
“Do you see what I mean? It’s horrific! I demand you to stop making so much noise!”
The lady behind the desk was beginning to get upset, as the tone of voice used by this angry woman was becoming more and more aggressive. I looked away from sight as a smile began to stretch across my face. After a further five minutes of ranting and violent shouting, the woman stormed off outside hand began to shout at members of the public – those enjoying the atmosphere at an airfield and waiting for their pleasure flight.
Once she was out of ear-shot, the lady behind the desk apologised to us before saying something quite remarkable.
“I’m terribly sorry about that, she comes in here every week like that. I’m really sorry you had to witness it. She lives a few minutes walk away behind the hut and constantly complains about the noise.”
Did I hear her correctly?
The woman lives a few minutes walk from an airfield – but complains about the noise?
“The airfield has been here for nearly thirty years, to which she has been living across the road for just over five. She’s made violent complaints in the past and we’ve even tried to buy her house of her – just to see her move away!”
I laughed. I’m not going to hold it back I thought, so I laughed and laughed. I don’t know anyone who could be so stupid to live not he flight path of a busy airfield and then wonder why it’s so noisy.