This should really be Part Two: Return of the Drunken Neighbors. Unfortunately I never did get around to writing part one.
So, I sum up…..
Two weeks ago there’s a knock at my door. It’s about 11:30 at night so naturally I’m wide awake. I open the door and see Jenn and Adam, my neighbors. They are pretty close to plowed condition. I let them in.
I’m easily amused at the expense of others and it had been a boring evening.
The next thing I know they’ve found my stash of two (count ’em two) wine glasses and produce a bottle of wine. Yeppers they surely needed more to drink.
It was delightful watching someone else make total asses of themselves, after all.
Things quickly went downhill. Adam and Jenn finished the bottle off, broke one of my wine glasses, listened to every Prince CD I own at maximum volume, found the on switch to my Peavey amps (which they cranked to 11) and sang along with aforementioned Prince songs.
I have tenure in this building so no one ever complains about the music. Heh. Fucking Plebes.
Anyway, by 2:00 am I’m as amused as I’m gonna be. Particularly after Jenn finds my toy box (the bedroom is where the computer is) and asks about the accouterments and why do I have all that rope?
I make a witty comment and maneuver their asses to the front door, not letting it hit them in the ass on the way out.
At 3:00 a.m. there’s a knock on the door. Yes I’m still awake. Yes it is Jenn and Adam again. I let them in and get them back OUT within 30 minutes.
So that would be Part One.
Part Two: Return of the Drunken Neighbors
Last night I was contemplating walking over to XOXO to hear Mark and Mister Vague. Had already done the traditional Annual Solstice Celebration with TK and was dressed to hit the town. Instead I thought “aw screw it staying inside where it’s warm sounds pretty good”.
A foolish mistake.
Now mind you, I blog with one main credo:
Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.
In this case every damned word is true. You cannot make this shit up.
There’s a knock on the door last night. It’s…. just Jenn; asking if she could borrow my phone because her cell was dead.
Me, being an idiot, says okay. She calls her boyfriend and tells me he’ll be there in a few, can she hang out till then.
‘Okay’ says the idiot.
Oh wait, she AND her 8 year old daughter.
So, I find out that Adam is not Jenn’s one and only. Not to mention that she has a daughter who lives with her. Apparently the management company doesn’t know about the kid and Jenn is afraid they’ll find out.
Maybe she’ll have to pay a $100.00 deposit for having an ankle biter in her apartment. I had to do the same for the cat so I feel her pain.
After her inebriated boyfriend arrives I go in to check my email -because I have no fucking life- then come back out to the living room.
To witness those morons going to town on my couch. My formerly pristine couch. The kid is dead asleep on the floor.
Finally got the fuckers (literally) out of the house before midnight.
The finale took place this morning.
There’s a knock at the door (this is getting old isn’t it) and it is ‘the boyfriend.’ I’m sure he told me his name last night but since I didn’t care it was not stored in the memory banks.
“I need to get Jenn’s shoes.” says boyfriend
“Whaaaaa?” say I.
“She left her shoes here last night” he says
“Whaaaaa?” say I.
There on the floor by the couch are a pair of tennies, that are not mine.
I can only surmise that she and boyfriend and small child walked home across the frozen icy snow covered parking lot barefoot.
That’s some serious drinking there Lou.
Rachael’s Home for Wayward Neighbors
Now please get the fuck away
Talk about the Surreal Life. Sheesh.
What did I tell you? You just can’t make this shit up.
Gustav Holst: The Planets, Op 32
By: Gustav Holst
Release date: 25 October, 1990