I have recently inhabited a two-story townhouse in Florida and the silence and calmness I've experienced here is bliss. The sounds of the waves crashing into the shore, the tree frogs outside, the frequent downpours in the middle of the night. Let me fill you in on why I am grateful and previously unbeknownst to this newfound serenity. Kelsey and Hollee... if you're reading this... please forgive me.
"DUHNNNNCHHYAA WUHHNNAA SEEEEE YO SUN!!!" "YOU NO GOOD, WORTHLESS LYING MOTHER!@#$%!!!!" These are the sounds that fill my apartment every single evening. And when I say every evening I mean exactly that. Apparently, this woman has a child with this man and is unable to come to terms with the fact that she has an equal hatred for both her baby daddy and her life. Since I am broke and could not afford cable for most of the duration of my stay, her nightly diatribes had begun to replace my evening sitcoms. The best episode, I must say, happened recently on Mother's Day, when she gave Baby Daddy $20 of her own money to go out and purchase her a card from their unfortunate spawn. He returns later with no card and a $20 losing lottery ticket.
As I'm sitting on the couch listening away, I hear what seems to be the beginning of a downpour. As I run outside to check the weather, I am almost drowned in dog piss coming from the balcony upstairs. It's not enough that the chick upstairs has kept me awake seven nights in a row with her theatrical pornography auditions, now her dog is pissing all over my door and causing it to rust. After several sleepless nights I resort to sleeping on the couch because I'd rather listen to Baby Mama's emotional outbursts than hear Jenna Jameson getting nailed upstairs. A few weeks later I am in a local bar and a guy I've just met through another friend inquires as to what apartments I live in. After I tell him, he exclaims, " Oh,I know where that is! That's where that prostitute lives!"
Lucky for Jenna Jameson and my sanity, she was evicted after a few months. The replacements, whom I sadly never got to see, were also determined to make their presence known. I'm positive they were training for the Special Olympics because all I heard were rumbling sounds up and down the floor at a constant pace for hours on end.
Just when I thought I'd achieved a lasting peace in the bedroom, the Sexingtons move in next door. These people would literally go at it every single night for hours on end (they had clearly just met). It wouldn't begin at like the normal before bedtime or when you first wake up in the morning.. these escapades would start at all hours of the night. For a girl working 80 hours a week this did not fly. When I'd finally work up the nerve I'd shout things through the wall like "She's faking it!!" or "Shut the fuck up already, no one lasts that long!!" Needless to say it was pretty awkward running into those two in the parking lot.
reading this i felt like you were writing my life story at the moment. Except I have cable. I woke up at 1:30 AM to hear the "Sexingtons" having sex, and not only did it awake me, but also Kenny. In his reaction he rolls over putting his arm over me and goes "yUuuOohhHhmmm" my reaction- " get the f* off me" hahaha and I told him he would be disappointed when he finally sees those two people in person ( bc they aren't as attractive as they sound). The people next door, lets just say had the cops called on them within the first week of moving in. And oh she had another baby... great.. now the creapy father of two watches me take out the dog as he stares me down and wonders if i will clean up after my dog, although they must have had a rough night of drinking that ended up it sickness which killed a plant!!! And the rumbling... is still there.
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