Written at 2:30 a.m. September 3, 2007
Posted by merujo in apartment life, obnoxious neighbors, sleep.3 comments
I’ll give you the punchline first — these guys did it on and off until 4-something this morning. I finally fell asleep around 5 a.m. Here were my thoughts at 2:30 this morning:
Oh… mah… GAWD! There isn’t a white noise machine powerful enough in this whole universe to save me from the terrifying sounds of the marathon sex session still going on upstairs. I don’t know how many cans of Red Bull (or how much crack) Angry Indian Doctor and Mrs. Angry Indian Doctor must have consumed to fuel this tantric lovefest, but dear God, MAKE IT STOP!!!
There are just so many episodes of “Flip This House” any one human can watch in the middle of the night. I feel like I need a set of those wireless headphones for the TV/stereo so I can consider falling asleep without hearing barking, grunting, and their headboard banging against the wall. It sounds like pit bulls attacking a teacup poodle on top of loose boards.
Well… at least VH1 Classic is running some great stuff I haven’t seen in a gazillion years, like The Specials singing “A Message to You Rudy” (they all look like they’re twelve and have starved themselves while being stretched on a rack to fit into all those super skinny clothes) and Morrissey making me swoon with “Sing Your Life.”
But, really, I’d just like some shuteye. I worked today, and my brain is fried. But as long as the genital funpark is open upstairs, I’m the one who’s really screwed.
Right now, I’d give just about anything to live in a soulless concrete highrise with enough slabs between units to render it silent. That sounds fantastic right now.
Anyone up for a board game?
24…. with Merujo June 24, 2007
Posted by merujo in apartment life, entitlement, jerks, laundry, lint.5 comments
This conversation actually happened between 3:05 and 3:07 p.m. today…
Me (waiting for unfamiliar young studly dude to pull laundry out of the dryer)…
Dude: “Uh, you waiting to use this?”
Me: “Yeppers.”
Dude: (pulls laundry from dryer, starts to walk out of laundry room with armful of clothes)
Me: “Excuse me. You forgot to clean out your lint.”
Dude: (laughing) “You’re kidding, right? I’m a guest here. You can get that for me.”
Me: “Uh, no, buddy. I don’t think so. That’s not just fabric fuzz, you know. It’s also your dead skin and hair. You can remove it yourself. I don’t work here, hon.”
Dude: “I doubt it’s my hair. I wash and comb my hair, lady. Anyway, I’m clean. Have a nice day.“
Me: “Uh, no, bubba. I’m not talking about the brushable hair on your head. I have no interest in handling your butt and nut hair. Clean it out now.”
Dude: “I don’t know why this pisses you off so much. So it’s got hair in it. It’s laundered hair! It’s clean.”
Me: “It’s laundered nut hair. And unless I’m married to you or paid to wash your clothes, I have no obligation to handle your butt and nut hair. Clean it out.”
Dude: “I’m gonna tell my friend her neighbor is a bitch.” (Returns to clean out what I’m uncharitably going to think of as “butt and nut hair” from now own.)
Me: “That would be fine. Be sure to tell her the bitch is Merujo in Apartment X. You know, the building representative to the condo association? And tell her to have a great day and that she might want to escort her visitors to the laundry room in future.”
Dude: “…” (leaves, slamming door behind him.)
Dude: (from hallway) “Oh fuck.”
But apparently, he has the cleanest nut hair in the county.
J’aime la “vie d’appartement!”
And God bless us everyone.
