Last night I came home around 11pm to Neighbor Bob’s stereo blasting some 80’s rock tunes. I shook my head as I made my way up the stairs, indifferent to the noise because I knew I could fall asleep regardless…I was that tired.
Neighbor Bob’s wife’s daughter (you know, the one who always parks in my spot) came crashing through their front door crying and yelling at her boyfriend. I wasn’t surprised by the crying or the yelling, but I was a little taken aback by what she said:
“You motherf*&@!*, you made me wait so long to go to the bathroom that I pissed my pants!” She then must have started hitting him because he yelled, “you need to keep your hands off me.” She didn’t listen. “YOU NEED TO KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF ME!” and then he punched the wall. NB’s front door flew open, Homer escaped, NB started yelling because Homer escaped, NB’s Wife’s Daughter and Boyfriend run out into street where they continue screaming at each other, she crying uncontrollably. Then…he stole her car keys…and her car. He peeled out of the street, and she was left wailing on her knees…in her urine-soaked pants.
I’ve been living here almost one year. And yet it feels so much longer…