Tuesday, 6 December 2011

'But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?'*

(*The balcony scene, Act 2 Scene 2, 'Romeo and Juliet' by William Shakespeare)

My apartment building has resembled a construction zone for the past four months as workers undertake the massive task of replacing all the windows, frames and balcony doors. The contractor has blocked off a fair percentage of our beautiful grounds for their work area and uses a shipping container to house the new material. Each weekday morning at 7.30 they commence work in earnest and the sounds of drilling, hammering,  tugging and plundering fill the air. I know the latter two are not construction terms but that is what I imagine when I hear them at work. This project will continue into the new year before it is completed.

On the weekend a second contractor joined the fun delivering extraordinary quantities of scaffolding. This lot is for the replacement of bricks that cover the 13 storeys' tall building. The bricks that cover the building are cosmetic. The bricks do not hold the building together. They are designed to provide a more attractive 'skin' than the concrete or whatever it is they conceal that actually does that job. Unfortunately those bricks, now in place for 43 years, have started to fall out. Hence the replacement project.

Yesterday, Monday, whilst I was at the hospital the brick contractor constructed his scaffolding on the rear side of the building to the level of my dining room, six storeys up. The workers were gone from the site by the time I returned home.

This morning as I dressed for the hospital I heard the usual sounds of activity at 7.30 and looked down from my front window (the lounge room) to check that the window contractor had commenced work and I observed the familiar sight of their activity.

Thinking nothing of it I continued my preparations. Sitting bare torsoed I was putting on my shoes when I suddenly realised that the sounds of work were not coming from ground level at the front of the building but from the rear as construction of the scaffold for the brick work had resumed. I had completely forgotten about the new construction and there I was semi naked in full view of the scaffold workers.

Scaffold workers seen through my dining room window
Now there were times in my younger days when the thought of hefty tradesmen at my door with me semi naked and available would have set of all manner of sexual fantasies but I am older and sadly more conservative nowadays and my reaction was embarrassment followed by a speedy relocation out of their sight.

When I returned from my day at the hospital 7 hours later the smiling workers were still constructing their tower of Babel.

The growing Tower of Babel
I will be more prepared for my balcony scene tomorrow morning.


  1. Oh the cost!

    Probably just as well to hide your perky pecs from those bruisers. Who knows what they might do if they were aroused.

  2. Andrew, I'm trembling at the thought....of the workers being aroused, not the cost.