I’ve been here a little over a month now, and it has finally happened: My upstairs neighbors of beer-offering and squeaky-bed fame finally had a fight. This wasn’t just a little fight either. This probably wasn’t a discussion over the bills or her buying something overly expensive or the usual things guys have to put their women in line about. There were no slightly raised voices due to keeping the neighbors in mind, or soft sobs after the making up was finally done. This sounded like the kind of brawl that somebody ends up going to jail for before the night is over.
Around 8PM we hear sudden shouting. No, this fight didn’t even start with normal voices and then move up from there. The communication between our neighbors began with a solid shout, and was then responded to with a shout. I quickly paused the show we were watching and craned my ear upward, as if the several-inch adjustment would boost my hearing level to that of a dog’s. There was plenty of shouting, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Not knowing what Shout-Fest ’09 was about was killing me.
Moments later I found myself standing on my feet, doing what any normal person would do in this case: Standing on my tip-toes LOOKING at the ceiling. As if my brain could re-route power from my eyes and give my hearing a much-needed hand. This goes on for several minutes before it comes crashing down to a halt. And I am not exaggerating when I say crashing down. In the midst of the yelling, something comes down hard on the ground. I don’t know if he knocked down a piece of furniture, or threw that damned dog, or maybe he just sent that woman of his down for the count. My girlfriend speculated that perhaps he overturned the 50 foot tall pyramid of beer-cans he had been stacking… I did not disagree at any point.
So after he presumably slammed her skull into the floor, the noise stopped. I mean it came to a dead stop. We didn’t even hear the constant walking around at all hours or her turning on the vacuum at 3AM. I was a bit let down that they didn’t end up having super-trashy makeup sex after he apologized to her using the word “baby” no less than 50 times. In fact, they haven’t poked since then. Either that, or they actually bought a new bed so that they could screw without everyone within a 3 mile radius knowing.
Why did they fight? I don’t really care. I just don’t want it to stop. While most neighbors would be annoyed and cursing their fate for living underneath such folks, I know when I am sitting on (or sitting under) a drama goldmine. I hope to be a rich, rich man soon.
In video-game news – which was what I was going to slowly use this article space for until my neighbors turned this into a weekly update on just how trashy they are – I’ve been taking in a lot of new games. Not brand new, but new to me seeing as how I don’t usually hop on a game until it has been out several months and nobody is playing multiplayer on it anymore. I’m running through Fable 2, Bionic Commando (which surprisingly isn’t a pile of shit), and Mercenaries 2. I have decided to put Banjo Kazooie on the sidelines for awhile until the veins in my head finally settle down. My last few days were spent on it trying to destroy the high-scores of a certain Jeremy Gregory… which I hope only further demoralizes him.
Join me next week for, well… who knows. Maybe my neighbors will be perfect angels all this week and I won’t have anything to mention about them. Then again, I might be writing about how one of them finally killed the other and used a section of their intestines as a beer bong.
A Southerner, Billy seems to be the most adult of us all. Especially in that shady, seedy kind of way.
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