A strange annoying noise
in the apartment above me.
I know it well. It’s the slow, fast
clack, clack rotary tapping of a
sewing machine. I can visualize
the foot movement on the floor
pedal…Clack, clack, clack…
I recognize it for I did a bit of
sewing myself years ago. Haven’t
heard that distinctive sound in a
long, long time.
New neighbors upstairs. Heard
them move in the other day. Heavy
footsteps and thud, thud sounds of
furniture being dropped and moved
around.
Sure hope whomever it is isn’t a
tailor or a seamstress. I mean pro-
fessionally, one who sews for a
living, you know. I can put up
with that clacking for a while,
but it becomes aggravating as
hell the longer it persists.
I thought sewing was a dying
profession in this country these
days. Most folks buy their gar-
ments at Walmart or T J Max.
When apparel wears out or
becomes old fashion, folks
just throw them away. It’s a
lot easier to shop for new at
a brick and mortar store or
place an order online.
If this person upstairs is a pro, I’m
in for lots of noise. I figured all the
serious tailors and seamstresses
were to be found in the fashion
centers of Paris and New York or in
sweat shops scattered throughout
Asia, the Mid-East and Africa.
It would be my goddamned luck
to get the last one alive in Kansas
City who moved in and now lives
and works at all hours above me.
But then I realized that the rent is
much cheaper here in the Midwest.
-30-
Chris Hanch 2-4-2021
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