Please do not blame me for smiling from ear to ear. I have a very good reason to do so. 😀
About fifty yards away, in the stillness of the night, with the sounds of crickets and other night insects defeated, an ensemble of promising, no promise and forgettable voices tried to ruin the good sleep of their neighbors. Loud music blaring from a karaoke, they did not give a whit if people far away kept swearing at them, that they might accidentally swallow a mosquito or two so they could get back their normal senses.
Personally, I do not mind listening to the musical circus, noting that they were old enough to know what was right and wrong. If singing out of key was right, then it’s wrong to point it out to their faces to prevent any untoward incident. 😀
I recalled a true story that passed through the grapevine a few months ago. No one claimed responsibility for the cause of the misunderstanding. It taught everyone a lesson: how technology could be used and abused.
An irritated farmer, tired from a whole day of work in the field, went home to discover that his neighbors were having a drinking spree. It should have been okay except the distorted singing got to his nerves. He could not complain because he, too, was similarly guilty of the same stunt earlier.
He excused himself from his wife, who placed cotton in her ears to dampen the noise from next door. Pretending to check his animal tied to a tree, he brought along his old-model cellular phone. With a substitute SIM card, he dialed the number of the local police station.
“Hello, is this the police? I like to report a protest rally,” he reported, changing the tone of his voice and using a different dialect to mislead the listener.
“At this hour? Are you sure?” the recipient of the call on the other line asked, suspecting a crank caller. “What is your name? Where do you live?”
He gave the complete name of his neighbor and the address. He added, “Please come immediately. They are shouting bad things about the Mayor.”
“Don’t go anywhere!” the male policeman ordered. “We’ll bring a whole unit.”
The farmer went back home quickly, got inside the mosquito net and under the thin blanket while acting asleep. He waited for the solution to his sleeping problem.
From a distance, everyone awake could hear the sing-song note of incoming sirens. No one suspected that trouble would spoil the wholesome celebration.
“Who’s the leader here?” asked the policeman in charge. “Break this protest rally or I’ll have you all arrested.”
Almost half of those present were either groggy from too much alcohol intake or on their way to semi-unconsciousness, they did not recognize the uniformed lawmen.
“This is a birthday celebration, officer,” the man of the house explained.
“Is this your name?” the lawman asked, showing the man his notes.
“That’s me. Why?”
“You reported a protest rally at this address. Are you trying to fool us?”
“No officer. I would not do that. Why should I do such a thing? It’s my birthday.”
The law enforcer wished to vent his rage on the prankster but he could not identify him. Instead, he did the unexpected, trying to regain his honor as a peacekeeper.
“Stop this noise this minute. I could arrest all of you for disturbing the peace.”
No one could protest: only a few could stand on their feet. They were goners.
And, it was indeed late. Peace had to be restored.