My vacation is just three hours in progress, but already I’ve resorted to crouching and scuttling along the walls in my apartment, easing the windows up and the doors open so I can get a better vantage point to see and hear the two — TWO! — separate bouts of drunken relationship re-evaluation happening outside of my little apartment complex tonight.
I get seriously giddy any time there is conflict and I get to be the fly on the wall. However, if there’s conflict and I’m involved or those involved are aware I’m there, it’s not nearly as much fun. I like the conflict where I’m not a part of it at all, I’m literally invisible to the people involved, so there’s no observer effect. I’m just a fly on the wall, insignificant, frantically sending out dispatches to the other flies about what utterly human things these crazy people around us are doing.
The first conflict I overheard was some dude loudly pouring out his heart to his woman, telling her she’s always going off to these other guys and they don’t care about her, and then she comes back to him and he’s always there because he loves her. I think they moved their fight from the courtyard to the back parking lot, because I heard muffled protestations coming from inside a car, and went to the bedroom to open my window so I could hear (God, I’m a nosy bitch) and it turned into a “fuck you! fuck you, you shiftless cretin*! And then the car started up and squealed out of our parking lot in a fit of drunk-driving anger. (I was sort of worried for a minute that the “fuck yous” were directed toward the nosy bitch who opened her window to hear the argument, which made me feel bad, but only for a minute.)
The second batch of turmoil came from my neighbors on the balcony next door, who, I think, were having a loud discussion — drunken? possibly — about the other neighbors who were having a fight. I couldn’t really tell. By that time I was juggling between the two theaters of drunkdrama, not sure which would turn out to be the most interesting.
Now it seems like things are mostly quiet, except for the sound of an air mattress next door being inflated by something loud and annoying, and the sound of my silly little keystrokes.
*Not really, but it would have been awesome to hear someone use “cretin” in a drunken fight
Hello. I’m listening to my roommate argue with his ex-girlfriend on the phone right now. He usually calls her names like a dirty whore, dipshit, skank, skank-ho. And he usually says things like, “where did you get your pictures from? Slut.com?”
You breeders.