The other day, Mrs H and I visited a large and unattractive local shopping centre. We rarely visit this one but if the weather is poor and we are in the area we sometimes drop in for a coffee and an idle stroll round.
To begin with, we popped into a first floor coffee shop so we could sit by a window and gaze out over the vast car park for a while. It gave us a sense of being above it all even though we weren’t.
After a while, Mrs H mentioned the coffee shop acoustics because there were about twenty people in there yet it wasn’t at all noisy. As if the acoustics had been designed to subdue the buzz of nearby conversations and create a sense of calm. We have no idea if the acoustics of such places are designed this way, but that was our impression.
A little later in a vast clothing emporium I sat waiting while Mrs H tried on a pair of linen trousers in the changing room. For some reason I listened closely to the ambient music, trying to pick out the words of the songs. After a few futile minutes doing that, I scaled down my ambition to see if I could pick out a single word. Just one would do.
Nope. My hearing isn’t top notch, but I failed to recognise a single word. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be listening to any of the words. Maybe they weren’t any. Perhaps the ‘songs’ were all supposed to be nothing more that wordless laments, formless cries of entitlement and loss, only to be assuaged by spending therapy.
I don’t know how they worked it, but by the time Mrs H came out of the changing room I hadn't managed to pick out a single word from any of the songs. Not even ‘the’ or ‘and’ or even ‘spend’. For all I know it wasn’t English, but a kind of formless consumer lament playable anywhere in the world.
Apparently the linen trousers were a good fit though. Satisfyingly cheap too.
5 comments:
I like the idea of a coffee shop which is quiet and calm. I've read somewhere that retailers often make consumption areas less comfortable so that customers move on quickly after buying. Once they've got your money, they don't want you relaxing and hanging around and taking up tables.
Come to think of it, the same might apply to the piped music. The last thing they need is you listening to your favourite music while sitting there in your unpaid-for linen trousers. Ideally retail ought to look great from the outside so as to lure you in, but then move you on with the feeling that next time all your dreams will come true.
Sam - there was a sense of hustle about the clothes shop, but the coffee shop was almost soporific. I suppose coffee cools down so there is a natural limit to how long people stay without buying another.
Quite a few years ago, I started listening to Ray Coniff records. There was a human choir which didn't actually sing, but simply supported the music. I found it quite calming, especially as I was a concerned 19 year old, stationed in Borneo, fighting the evil Indonesians who were attacking Malaya and Singapore territories and threatening invasion. I still, at times, look up that music on youtube, and still find it calming and enjoyable.
I have never succeeded, at any age, in understanding any announcement over a tannoy. I might pick up the odd word but never the whole message. I am multi-skilled: I haven't understood in English, in French, and in German.
I confess I've never heard a tannoy announcement in Latin but I'll bet I wouldn't pick that up either. I suppose I should visit the Vatican to try the experiment.
Penseivat - sounds is if there could be a book in your Borneo experiences.
dearieme - reminds me of a Laurel and Hardy clip where they are supposed to be taking the train to a show in Pottsville.
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