Warning:this post might be considered by some to be somewhat off-color, so ifyou’re unprepared to read about some of the more unpleasant realitiesof modern urban living, I would suggest that you point your browser here instead.
Last night, at about 1:30 AM, I was awakened by the sounds of my upstairs neighbors having particularly loud sex.
Atleast, I’m pretty sure that’s what they were doing. It’s entirelypossible that these fine people were simply conducting repeated loadtesting of their new inner spring mattress. But somehow I doubt that.What I heard was a metallic “EEE-ert” noise that went something likethis:
EEE-ert.
EEE-ert.
EEE-ert. EEE-ert. EEE-ert.
EEE-ert. EEEert. EEEert.
EEEertEEEertEEEertEEEertEEEert
EEEertEEEerEEEeertEEE-ERT!
I dunno; sounds like sex to me. For the Jean-Pierre Jeunet fans in house, it was straight out of Delicatessen.
I’ma little bit disturbed, because I’m not quite sure how to handle thesituation if it persists. Keep in mind that I just moved in to thisbuilding and do not actually know these people. In fact, I’venever even seen them before and would be completely unable to pick themout of a lineup if such an opportunity were to be afforded to me. SoI’m going to pose an open question to the readers of this blog: what dowe think we should do here?
Hardto say, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want my first words to these peopleto be “Hey, I’m Steve and I can hear you when you’re f*cking.”
