No, of course I hate the idea of our school’s conservatory being used as a place for some…warbling competition. “Glass is made for shattering”? Is he quite mad?
This is an academy for gifted individuals, and while shattering glass with one’s voice requires some degree of skill, we are not that kind of place. We’re not even a place that would allow a third-party to temporarily celebrate such a thing! It’s my job to put a stop to it before Saturday.
Oh, I know they said they were contacting glaziers who’d fix the damage, but I can’t stand the thought of all that chaos. And we just had the balustrading put in! It was quite a nice old wooden spiral staircase leading to the observatory, but the board ruled in favour of modernising the place a little bit. I thought the glass balustrading was quite fetching; sort of a fusion of now, 2018, and the late nineteenth century when this academy was founded. Old floorboards, new, contemporary and chic balustrading. It was a match made in heaven, and I’m not going to stand idly by and watch my contribution to this academy be ruined by a night of people screeching at the glass in an attempt to break it.
Our glaziers spent time on that balustrading! It was quite precious to them! I mean, imagine it was, as it is to me, but never mind. The point still stands: I must stop this madness. End of story. Full stop. Right now.
Oh, but the balustrading…so beautiful. I wanted to leave this job when I was old and grey, and look back on the many ways in which I’d improved the physical grounds of the academy, and say… “that balustrading? I put that in. I was the driving force. Look how beautifully it blends the old and the new. Behold the craftsmanship.”
Maybe I need to organise some sort of protest. Melbourne stair balustrades do not deserve this kind of shameful treatment. And since it’s a balustrade that I ordered, that makes it even more important.