Matching Tracksuits

Fun in Fours

Middle Ages

Thursday 9 December 2004 | general

Your Honor, the State would like to conclude its case with two exhibits:

Exhibit A:

My client and his recently spent a weekend in Krakow. With Advent coming, that Saturday night was the last big party night for a while, and they were supposed to go to a club opening with some friends. It all fell through, and everyone ended up going back to my client’s friends’ apartment and having a small “impreza” there.

The aforementioned friend lives with five roommates; each of them has a girlfriend–throughout the evening, people were coming and going. The thought of living in such conditions was enough to make my client’s steadily-approaching-middle-age entire body queasy. No privacy; no silence; an apartment always full of strangers; never pausing, let alone stopping — my client got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Exhibit B:

When younger, my client swore to himself that he would never let these two sentences fall from his lips:

  • That’s not music!”
  • The stuff I listened to growing up — now that’s music.

And yet.

And yet my client has said those very sentences — thankfully not to anyone but his wife — about techno, which my client refers to as “that abomination, that assault to the ears.”

Your Honor, on the basis of the case presented, it’s clear that Middle Age is preparing a full attack on my client, and I, as his counsel, am forced to respectfully request a restraining order be placed upon Middle Age.

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