It’s Thursday night and 4:45 in the morning. I guess technically that would make it Friday morning. In that case, it’s mother fucking 4:45 am on a Friday. To make matters clear, the one time during the week I can sleep in late, my next door neighbor is fucking some girl (probably the same one) for the third Friday in a row against the wall I sleep next to. God damn the architects of this building for making our bedrooms adjacent to one another. This guy, man. In fact, I won’t even call it fucking. Nope. Fucking would insinuate loud, crazy, manic fornication worthy of a peaked interest in either watching or listening. We’ll just call this flat out BORING. SEXUAL. INTERCOURSE. It sounds about as exhilarating and tantalizing as shoving in a light absorbency tampon. Wearily waking from my slumber, I look to my left and see that my Chihuahua is already up, staring me down as if I’m failing to protect her from such an offense. It’s one thing to wake ME up, but my DOG?! Come on, she’s still a virgin man; she’s a fucking virgin at 49 years old (dog years), how DARE you insult her with such awful sounding sex! I’m a strong proponent in pornography and, normally, I would listen in and masturbate along with it. This shit though sounds like garbage; every 5 seconds (COUNT OUT LOUD IN YOUR HEAD NOW) I hear a loud, high-pitched, blunted, “UUUUUUUHH” followed by another ten-second silence coming from the lady, if you wanna call her that.
Every…five…seconds. It’s keeping me awake and also keeping me very dry at the same time. Needless to say, I am beyond enraged by this. Moving to the couch, I curse the sex gods for keeping me in a drought for the past two months and for even furthermore mocking me by making me wake up to listen to the sounds of such an awful, pitiful, excuse of people actually getting laid. Luckily for me, it only lasts for ten minutes, with no sounds of a climax at that. I cannot WAIT to confront my next-door-neighbor about this shit…if he thinks he’s dealing with an unsatisfied lady right now, just wait ‘til he’s confronted with my unsatisfied ass…and vagina.
Of course, confronting my neighbor is easier said than done. While I would love nothing more than to go parading over to his apartment at this hour, pounding on his door, and then beating him senseless until he realizes the full grasp of how awfully his awful fucking sounds are beating my ears and hopes for good sex senseless, I can’t possibly bring myself to perform such a task. I let him have his ten minutes of guilt-free glory, and instead, I wait, hoping to catch him either in the hallway or in the garage or in an alleyway with a gun to appropriately and effectively unleash my tirade of cynicism and contempt. Yes, any of the above will do. In the meantime, I will also further take it upon myself to tell everybody I know in the building about how pitiful of a lay he is and how I have all the proof in the world about it. FACEBOOK STATUS! Yes, in fact, I will update my status pertaining to the latter every morning after it is started and further ruined by him.
After a week of telling security, the neighbors, and everyone in the leasing office about him, I feel fully satisfied with myself. Thank the Lord I’ll be away this week for Thanksgiving because otherwise, I very well may just hang out my window, beat on his, and heckle his performance as he continues along with his futile attempts at pleasing this woman. I wouldn’t mind as much if it were at 12:45 in the morning or, hell, if it were even 7:45 in the morning (at least with that he could wake me up in time for yoga at 8:45). NO! It has to be at an hour where I am definitely and happily asleep and wasting away into a dreamlike wonderland, after a night of not getting laid my damn self. I can picture it now: The two of them doing blow all night at the club and finally too cracked-out to continue at 4 o’clock, causing them to leave the club finally and head back to his place, while she falls asleep in his bed and he somehow finally manages a decent enough hard-on to pound away at her while she unconsciously moans as a means to, not necessarily convey arousal or pleasure, but rather to let him know that she’s still alive and has not overdosed on cocaine. Hot right? NOT.
There were several moments in the interim where I very well could have confronted my neighbor. There was that one time I was in the hallway talking to another one of my neighbors, when he came walking by with three of his friends, wearing bright neon blue skinny jeans and bubbly bouncing along on a Friday night, obviously getting ready to go out. His one friend looked older and much like David Bowie. The two women trailing along looked like skinny, coked-out cougars. At this point, I’d say my neighbor is probably in his late 30’s; these lovely lasses looked like they were in their early 50’s. I wonder if one of them was the star of his poor-excuse-of-a-porno. I give him the ultimate death stare as they walk by, making note to not say “Hello” back when he passes with a, “Hey! How ya doin?!” There was also that time in the garage when I was pulling in and he was walking out. He waved to me. I contemplated giving him the finger in reply and instead opted to just give a discerning glare (as usual). Ha! That’ll show him!
At this point, you may think I’m a pussy for not taking either opportunity to call him out on his shit. On the contrary, I am actually a noble adversary, in that I will not embarrass you in front of your friends and I will respect you enough to put you in your place while I’m standing in front of you and watching your face react in horror and shame as I, “SHAME ON YOU ASSHOLE!” with passion and fervor. Yeah, bitch.
Standing in front of my building on a Tuesday night, walking my dog at 10 o’clock after work, I wait for my dog to take her usual shit when I notice a tall, tanned and distinctly cut and ruggedly jacked man making his way towards me. I gulp hard as I glance back at this Adonis of a man in a baseball cap, wife beater, and mesh pants sauntering my way, his eyes fixed on mine as he makes his way closer to me, smiling and slowly stalking on over. I glance behind me to see if there’s anyone else standing there that he may be looking at instead (ya never know!) and see that I’m the only one standing on the sidewalk at this point. Oh my God. He’s looking at ME? He must have been blowing lines at the gym and now desperately needs somebody with whom he can be Coked-Out Chatterbox Charlie. Jesus Christ he is beautiful. FUCK I am one lucky bitch right now.
In his tight shirt showing off his muscles, the fresh sweat from the gym now glistening in the street lights, a familiar face begins to formulate in my view as my arousal almost immediately and instinctively turns to anger. It’s my neighbor. Now walking directly up to me, I roll my eyes and shake my head, simply stating, “Oh it’s you,” refusing to hide the contempt in my voice. Fuck, was my neighbor always this hot? My neighbor gives a little chuckle and sheepishly asks, “Hey you…umm…do you still live next door?” Knowing damn well that this is my moment of glory, I adamantly reply back without hesitation, “YES ASSHOLE! I DO IN FACT STILL LIVE NEXT DOOR AND BEAR WITNESS TO YOUR AWFUL POOR EXCUSE OF A FRIDAY MORNING FUCK FEST EVERY WEEK! THAT SHIT IS GARBAGE AND IT SOUNDS BORING AND IT KEEPS ME AWAKE! I AM SO ANGRY WITH YOOOOOOOOOUU!!!!!”
Completely stunned and taken aback, my neighbor lets out a shriek, grabs his hair in his hands and replies with, “AAHHH! OH MY GOD!! I’m so sorry!!!!!” as he begins to blush and giggle out of shame and unsurprising disgust for himself. “YEAH BITCH TAKE THAT!” I exclaim to myself as I gear up for another round of verbal abuse. “Ugh that shit sounds awful! You’d think that I’d have something better to listen to but NO that shit sounds as arousing as fondling a pregnant panda at the zoo! And even THAT would probably get me off better than YOUR poor-excuse-of-a-sex show next door! UGH YOU DISGUST ME!”
The both of us now getting into the elevator with one another, I can’t help but get turned on by this interaction. Something about the way I’m able to demean his sexual performance coupled by his bulky biceps and sultry brown eyes, that body of a god on him, mmmm mmm mmm…I’m utterly turned on by this showdown. Continuing to offer apology after apology, my neighbor can’t help but laugh at my demeaning remarks as he quite simply and eventually states, “I can’t help it…I’m just a man in love.” Womp womp. Fuck, man. Realizing how upset I actually am by this statement, I try my best to conceal my bitterness when I reply, “Aww, well isn’t that fucking cute…boring sex with the person you love.”
We continue to talk and shoot the shit as we walk on to our apartments, my neighbor asking what sort of restitution is due in attempting to make amends. I tell him he needs to let me pepper-spray him. He declines this offer. I tell him I’m still angry with him then. We stop in between our apartments as we bid each other adieu. He tells me that he will not be waking me up this coming Friday morning, as his lady is still away from the Thanksgiving holiday. I tell him he’s lucky because otherwise I may have to viciously touch myself and violently pound the wall along with it so he knows what a woman really sounds like when she’s enjoying herself. As he walks back to his apartment and I unlock the door to mine, I scream back at him, “Hey! What’s your name Don Juan?” Letting out a laugh and walking back over, my neighbor reaches out his hand and replies with, “I’m M&M,” as he locks his eyes on mine and grabs my hand in his, an electrifying intensity now sparked in the simplicity of this touch. Looking back at him, I can see it in his eyes that he feels it too. I tell him my name and how lovely it is to have finally met the man with whom I have shared far too many involuntarily intimate moments these past couple weeks, as I wink and walk back into my apartment.
I don’t do men with wives, girlfriends, kids, etc. I’m much like a seasoned sniper when it comes to dating and fucking: no women or children in my kill count. I try to shrug off the undeniable chemistry between us and tell the universe that I want to fuck my neighbor under my previously mentioned standards. Climbing into bed, I proceed to masturbate to thoughts of my neighbor and, in my rendition of his performance, I’m as loud as can be as I climax uncontrollably…and it is glorious.