Foiled Again.


One mystery I never solved while in Edinburgh last month was why the window to the flat opposite my digs was completely covered in tinfoil.


I can’t help but wonder if the motivation for this chintzy curtain-substitute was nefarious. Were they growing weed? Or were they trying to protect themselves from being spied on by Major League Baseball, like Bart Simpson on his anti-ADHD medication? While it may have just been insulation or to help black out the sun so they could sleep, this seems unlikely, as aluminium's not the easiest material to take down quickly if you’re too hot or it’s time to get up.

Funnily enough, my last run-in with a tinfoil-covered window was in Edinburgh too, when the people running the venue where I teched my friend Fraser’s show last year decided this would be the best substance to block out the daylight and give the option of a blackout, without taking into account the First Rule of the Fringe: any room where there's a show on will be hotter than the Earth’s core as a matter of course. Their solution to this second problem was equally poor: to open the window and drape the foil back over the gap, thus resulting in the noisiest curtain since records began; just some black material would have been better.

I’m amazed curiosity didn’t get the better of me this year, for me to hammer on their door demanding an explanation. Maybe the room was just packed from floor-to-ceiling with Kit Kats.

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