I normally just glance through the business section of the paper each day, finding profit margins and corporate takeovers a little beyond my scope of interest.
But last week I was fascinated by the headline "Quiet fast food". Living in a city environment where "quiet" is as alien as R2-D2, the mere thought of quiet anything piqued my interest immediately.
Apparently a socially conscious entrepreneur decided that the hearing impaired have as much potential any as able-bodied person to do any job in a restaurant. I'm sure he's quite right, and I can only applaud him for implementing this policy.
I see so many hearing-impaired people conducting business on the pavements of Sukhumvit Road, selling everything from T-shirts that say "I'm not weird; I'm a limited edition" and lamp shades to penknives and dubious Croc shoes. Armed with a large calculator and expressive hands, they discuss prices and haggle over discounts until both sides reach a compromise, and everyone goes home happy.
This is done without a single word being uttered. It's fascinating.
The spoken language has become irrelevant. Life continues without the need to make noises. I hope I don't sound condescending, but perhaps we should consider how we should put our ability to speak and hear to better use rather than just making "noise".
At the risk of sounding repetitive, I think Thais are very dependent on noise, almost like the way toddlers like to hold a security blanket while they suck their thumbs.
They feel more at ease if there's a sufficient amount of noise all around. Thai restaurants always have piped music blaring out of the speakers, and Thai parties hire live bands with the woofers cranked up to the max so there is no way you can even make polite conversation. All you can do is smile at each other across the table and hit the buffet table.
Then there are the supermarkets _ oh, those hypermarkets! Despite the clearly priced products, there is always a lady with eyelash extensions and big-eye contact lenses holding a microphone and touting some special new yoghurt at the top of her voice.
Walk past the instant noodles and you will be scared out of your wits when a voice like that of Phra Payom, the popular monk with the common touch, addresses you from behind the packets of Mama. An in-house radio DJ spins funky music while announcing the latest promotion for detergent in aisle eight.
And if you think you can escape the noisy city environment by heading to the country, you'd better think again.
There are pick-up trucks selling everything under the sun that tout their wares with squeaky loudspeakers through the villages. They are providing a public service of sorts, since you won't have to ride your motorcycle into the main market to get a handful of chillies.
Then there's the community radio network that sends out official news and messages over a PA system every morning and evening without fail before the 8am and 6pm flag raising and lowering ceremonies.
There's no escaping this, I am told.
And if you're anywhere close to a temple, you'd better enjoy the sound of luk thung music and firecrackers and temple fairs that mark every public holiday on the annual calendar, and more.
Peace and quiet in the country? I think not.
Thais do not enjoy peace and quiet, thank you. Being quiet is almost like being naked; you feel exposed and embarrassed, and you don't know what to do with your hands. It's just you and your thoughts, and that's too much to handle.
So if someone offers me a chance for a quiet meal, I'm going to check it out. I might even enjoy the soggy chips!
Usnisa Sukhsvasti is the Features Editor of the Bangkok Post.