Sleeping Noises, Unwanted Sounds, and Past Love

I believe New York is the most extraordinary place on earth. The aroma of fried food and coffee hang in the air as I enter the diner. A waiter shows me to a vinyl booth, “I'll have a Number 4—ham omelette—with coffee—please.” “Coming right up,” the waiter chuckles, exposing his red gums. He disappears to place the order. I close my eyes, and massage the ridge of my nose. I eat my breakfast leisurely, while humming a melody; a new melody I bank away with the others inside my head. Suddenly, a loud noise breaks out; it sounds "inhuman". I'm not longer eating, or in New York.

I wake from my dream, sit up, and look across at my wife in our bed. She is not only snoring, but snorting, twitching, and grunting in her sleep. Utter despair floods my body. The intensity of the noises emanating from her body reach that of a pneumatic drill - 90 decibels, and rising. 

Her false teeth in a glass beside the bed are starting to speak in a foreign language. I think it's Bengali; something about "Satyajit Ray" and his films. A momentary thought (for one hour, at least) of depopulating the planet by a unit of one. Surely, I'd have a good alibi if I captured her distressing sleeping habits on my cellphone camera? Then an idea! I pushed her over on her side, and sewed a large rock into the back of her pyjamas. Now when she lies on her back she suddenly wakes, sits up, and shouts, "I can't see in this snow! Where are my goggles?" and goes back to sleep on her side. As a result, I get to return to New York, and finish my breakfast.

I detest "unwanted sounds" especially those that are variable, or intermittent. For example: my wife's voice; pre-recorded public announcements ("Do not give your luggage to unknown persons" (Are they nuts?), "Do not buy a house within forty yards of a traffic light, unless you have machine washable earmuffs"(the noise can be unbearable - I prefer gray earmuffs. They go with my skin colour); revving engines; car horns; loud bursts of random music from cars. 

Also, locals smashing our windows, and protesting about 'nutters' in the area. It tends to interfere with my concentration, and increases my stress levels. I immediately check my collection of weaponry to ensure they are fully operational: four flamethrowers, three samurai swords, two pet Chihuahua's, and a partridge in a pear tree. Is it just me? - or is this starting to sound like a "Christmas song"?

Reflections: I met an old girlfriend today. We went to a bar for lunch. For some reason she still looked marvellous. Though grey-haired, she remained a fiercely beautiful woman. After some small talk about "six little things" - five of her little toes, and one of mine - she turned to me and said:

"Do you remember that afternoon by the river? What images and sensations does it provoke?"

"A fear of rats."

"No. You're teasing me. It's the passage of time, emotional currents, fish, men in nylon thigh waders, fishing rods ..."

"You have a great memory, and if I may say so, a great imagination?"

"Do you notice anything about me?"

"You still look great".

"No, silly. I'm wearing the same skirt!"

"But you were seven, and I was eight! You ... you must be approaching sixty!"

"How do I look, and be truthful?"

I lied as best I could. It seemed to satisfy her desire for assurance regarding her appearance. I didn't let her know I was wearing the same underwear - a bit tight; like my finances.