Hotel Memoirs #1
Customers will always complain about the bread factory. It squats next door to the hotel, one wide, square level which never sleeps and attracts droning swarms of eighteen-wheelers throughout the night. It emits a dull roar at all hours; when production is at full tilt the place is abuzz with the sounds of engines and fans and encircled in an invisible fallout cloud of slightly burned toast scent. I imagine if I was trying to sleep next to it, I'd be cranky about it too, but I don't. I stand outside and smoke cigarettes while staring at it just so I have something to stare at and while it's certainly no beauty it soothes me time and again.
I've got no problem with the hum of industry. I like the sound of a highway and sleep perfectly happily with the sound of garbage trucks banging manhole covers. All it says to me is that I'm tucked safely under the blanket of civilization, that I am among the great Us of machine-using humans and that, should I be stalked by wolves, I could probably get some backup and a safe place to hide in without too much trouble.
If civilization were to topple I could absolutely flip my shit without the sounds of humanity revving all around me. Yes, hearing the birds and the wind is nice. I enjoy them too on occasion, but the fact of the matter is birds couldn't give less of a crap about my getting eaten by wolves.
So, to sum up: Bread factories give me the illusion of being protected from roving bands of predators whose existence in the suburbs is entirely impossible, so I like them.
I've got no problem with the hum of industry. I like the sound of a highway and sleep perfectly happily with the sound of garbage trucks banging manhole covers. All it says to me is that I'm tucked safely under the blanket of civilization, that I am among the great Us of machine-using humans and that, should I be stalked by wolves, I could probably get some backup and a safe place to hide in without too much trouble.
If civilization were to topple I could absolutely flip my shit without the sounds of humanity revving all around me. Yes, hearing the birds and the wind is nice. I enjoy them too on occasion, but the fact of the matter is birds couldn't give less of a crap about my getting eaten by wolves.
So, to sum up: Bread factories give me the illusion of being protected from roving bands of predators whose existence in the suburbs is entirely impossible, so I like them.