Curvy Jones on: An Open Letter to the Guy Upstairs
I mean the tenant in 8208.
So, listen. I know I’m single. And I’m not dating much. In fact I can’t remember the last time I went on a date. My last kiss, besides the ones I give myself in the mirror, is a distant, faint, dust covered memory. At this time of year, I am reminded on a daily if not hourly basis that I’m single.
I’m trying to ignore this message, and the inherent message that there’s something wrong with that. I’d planned on spending Valentine’s Day on the edge of the earth where roses, candy, and “Every Kiss Begins With Kay” does not exist. Lo and behold, I couldn’t get a flight out, so I’ll be at home doing whatever it is I do on Sundays.
It’s been a long, cold, dreary day. I came home from work and 3 minutes later had my pajamas on, was in my bed, and had Law & Order SVU on the TV and my blog reader on the laptop. And then around 6:30, I hear this rythmic knocking.
Really? At 6:30 in the afternoon/early evening? Well good for you. Let me just say this, though:
HURRY UP.
Cause I’m already not feeling well. Already in a bad mood. Already terribly single and sitting here directly under your bedroom listening to your bed bang against the wall? Not my idea of a relaxing Tuesday evening. So, if you could just hurry it on up, before I start to really feel lonely and sad and tired and all those things the media wants me to think about being single around Valentine’s Day, that’d be SUPER.
Many thanks,
The Girl Who Lives Below You Who, Despite Her Snarky Attitude, Is INSANELY Jealous
Filed in: Daily Grind · Love & Relationships · PersonalTags: 2010 · no love · open letters · Valentine's Day
I say you find a broom or mop and knock on your ceiling in the rhythm of a song.
I recommend Poker Face by Lady Gaga.
Well if that doesn’t bug him, my hysterical laughing will! HAR!
1) OMG! I think we have The Shining! I was going to post a letter on my blog today!
2) Mrs. Happy Pants not only has the greatest screen name ever, she has the best idea on how to deal with oversexed neighbors. If that doesn’t work, play show tunes…really loud!
Tex In The City´s last blog ..I believe this with all my heart and all my soul
Mrs Happy Pants does have a great name, lol!
My upstairs neighbors are an oversized boyfriend who must have been a past football player in high school and his girlfriend. I don’t know much about the girlfriend other than she wears high heels that I can hear in the kitchen and bathroom. I also know she cries a lot and he yells and says “fuck” a lot. They are ALWAYS fighting. It’s a good reminder that I would rather be where I am today than where they are.
Sarah´s last blog ..He wasn’t lying after all
One of the reasons I moved from my old complex in May was because the walls at my old place were so thin I could hear my next door neighbor peeing. They worked at night, maybe at a bar or something, so at 3,4,5am they’d come home, talking loud, slamming doors, fighting, throwing things around. The BEST is having to get up at 6 am and being awakened at 3:45 am by their bed slamming against the other side of the wall, in the loudest, most a-rhythmic sex I’ve ever heard. How she was not more frustrated, I can’t really say.
I would just turn the TV on. ALL THE WAY UP. I guess they got the point after awhile. Sometimes on Sundays they’d have sex twice. And then fight. And then she’d ‘pretend to pack’ to leave and they have sex again.
So glad I moved. At least I can only hear guy upstairs when he really gets going.