Old folks party to the Barry Manilow techno remix.


I’ve recently moved house. As everybody in the garbage collection company knew where I lived, they had deliberately refused to collect my garbage and while I didn’t really mind the stench, I had a problem with the rats.

The apartment building in which I now live consists of ten units over four floors. Lots of old people live in the building, particularly on the lower two floors. I chose this building because I thought old people were less likely to have rave parties.

I was wrong.

The old people in this neighbourhood are bizarre and have energy levels disproportionate to their age. On Tuesday nights, they get dressed up in leather and wait outside the building, dancing to the sounds of Barry Manilow blaring out of a portable stereo. They do this for an hour and then a big van with darkened windows pulls up. They all pile in, including the stereo, and the van speeds off.

Mrs Lim on the first floor, who likes to stop and chat with me whenever she is watering her flowers, tells me that the van takes them to a top secret underground venue where a rave is held. It is so top secret that all the old people are blindfolded, even the ones who are partially blind, so they don’t know the way there. The reason for the secrecy is that the organisers refuse to apply for a police permit. They are of the opinion that it violates their right to peaceful assembly.

I asked who organised these raves and Mrs Lim said “The church, naturally. If you think about it, a rave is a combination of mass and a party, as it is a massive party. So if we can assemble for mass and for parties without a permit, we should be allowed to assemble for a rave.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“So what happens at these raves?” Much as I tried, I could not hide my slight disbelief and amusement.

“Oh, they are so much fun! Last Tuesday, the pastor invited Armin Van Buuren who played a great set. There was a brilliant light show, but Ranjit had a fit because of all the strobe lighting, you know he has epilepsy, and he had to be taken to hospital, but everybody else had a wonderful time, although I did lose my glow-in-the-dark Wonderbra. The spread was also superb, beautiful Madeleines and roti jala, but we’ve had better coke. Anyway, I wish I could invite you to join us, but it is a very exclusive sort of party, I hope you understand.”

I really didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded politely. At least the old people in this neighbourhood were having fun and not making too much noise while they were at it.

Copyright 2011 June Low All Rights Reserved

June is currently taking helicopter lessons after failing to get on America’s Next Top Model. She plans to drop a hundred litres of Mountain Dew on the models while they are sunbathing. Bitches.

2 replies on “Chapter 4: New Old People”

  1. Hi June – do you have a blog or web site? I like this stuff, and want to read more of it.

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