Sunday, January 27, 2008

The Vocalists Next Door

I got new neighbors last month & thus far, they've been tolerably loud. I say "tolerably" because I've been too chicken to say anything to them, primarily because there's no easy way to tell perfect strangers, "I can hear you having sex at least twice a week."

Last night, they hosted a very loud birthday party, which I specifically know because it felt like their guests were singing "Happy Birthday" from my bed. After finally falling asleep around 3:00, I was awakened early this morning by a lot of, shall we say, personal sounds.

So I drafted about five different versions of a respectful yet awkward note to the perps & slid it in their door handle. Then, as soon as everything quieted down, I promptly went back to sleep but was awakened yet again by a knock on my door. "You've woken me up twice today," I thought angrily, "and I am not getting up this time." Also, you know, I'm scared of confrontation, which may have been a contributing factor to my refusal to answer the door.

Anyway, they ventured over here again around 8:30 tonight, & when I answered the door, there they were: The pretty, tiny Latina girl I held the elevator for on Thursday & said "hi" to at the grocery store tonight, and her short, tough-looking boyfriend (husband?). Their names are Anita & Alvin. Quaint. As I looked at them & shook their hands, I couldn't stop thinking that I've heard these people doing it.

"You can just knock next time," Anita told me while Alvin stood there with intimidating, unblinking eyes. "The note was kind of awkward."

Oh, really? Waking up to your own personal porno wasn't awkward at all, folks, & I'm sure knocking during the next one won't be, either.

It's official: I just discovered the one thing I hate about apartment living.
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