Those of you that know me know that I am not prone to hyperbolic melodramatic rants. I'm not a complainer, I'm a stoic optimist. I see the good in people and assume their intentions to be benevolent and their hearts pure. So what follows should be understood as an anomaly to my general good cheer. But holy fucking shit a peg leg has moved in upstairs from me and I might have rabies.
Some background. I live in a lovely English Basement apartment in the quaint gayberhood of Dupont in DC. An English basement is code word for ground level townhouse apartment. My bedroom is in the back of the apartment and has both a large window and a door to a small patio area. This patio area is attached to the houses garage. Directly above all this is a deck. Any sound that is made in the garage or on the deck is clearly audible from my room. Likewise any loud thud, yell, or scream in the main house can be heard throughout my quaint English basement.
For the past year the upstairs house has been occupied by my out to lunch sixty something landlord and her husband. They have a dog. The dogs name is puppy. They like to let puppy outside in MY patio area, the garage and the deck then vigorously call her back inside for hours at a time. "PUPPY. COME HERE PUPPY" has woken me many a hungover Saturday morning. This was mildly annoying but my rent is cheap and I like my area so whatever, I dealt with it and secretly cursed them and their stupid dog.
Since the day I moved in my landlord has been threatening to move to California and rent out the house. This summer it appeared that this might actually happen. After hearing them "move out" for six weeks straight there was a lull. A heaven sent lull. The last three weeks have been marked by relative peace and quiet. Puppy and her owners have peaced the fuck out and once again I can sleep passed 8:00 a.m. on the weekends. It also so happens that my time in the apartment is winding down. This Sunday I'm leaving the humidity behind and moving to London (following a short stay with the parentals in the ever lovely New Jersey).
Imagine my surprise when this past Friday I come home from work and there is a semi-strapping young lad moving things into the house upstairs. Just my luck, I think as I prance around outside pretending to pick up the mail and daintily take out the trash, that a boy moves into the house upstairs as I am on my way out. I didn't see the boy again until I arrive home from work last night. I am packing my room (and watching the Real House Wives of Atlanta and eating a cupcake) when I hear the voices of young males outside of my window. I crack the blinds and what do I see through the slats but multiple shirtless young males moving things into the house via the back door. While I can't see their faces in my imagination they are hot and looking for a one week fling.
I continue packing up my room and eating cupcakes until around 11:00 when I succumb to exhaustion and plop down on my bed to catch up on TV and relax. Over the sound of the television I hear chairs being dragged onto the deck immediately outside of my bedroom. Voices of girls can be heard. Techno music begins to blare. Shit. It's a Monday night, I have had a long weekend involving a lot of food and a lot of liquor. I have two back to back meetings the next morning. I want to watch the Daily Show and go to sleep. No way, I tell myself, no way are they having a party on a Monday night.
By 11:30 I switch off my TV and put my pillow over my head hoping to drown out the conversation being had on the deck and the fucking trance music coming from their speakers. The pillow does nothing.
Boy 1: Yeah I saw this light moving really quickly in the sky changing colors.
Boy 2: Yeah it was moving too fast to be a star and it was too far away to be a plane.
Boy 1: And did you know Mexico city is like the number one place to see UFO's.
Girl 1 (note she had the voice of a hyena): No that's area 51 in New Mexico.
Boy 1: Whatever. UFO's are real. Ghosts are bullshit but aliens are pretty legit.
Blather ensues. I heard every word of their god damn conversation. Twenty minutes later it got even more exciting.
Girl 2: I love hash. I didn't know what it was at first and everyone was like Kelly how do you not know what hash is (vapid giggle).
Girl 1: God Amsterdam is sooo cool. I am so cool. I smoked weed in Amsterdam. I love Europe.
Boy 2: I have a hookah, lets be cliche and smoke out of it.
Boy 1: I can't find my lighter!
I consider calling the police to tell them hoodlums are partying in the house above my apartment. Finally after what seems an eternity they move inside. While their voices are still audible the sound is now muffled and I think sleep may be near. The music is still going but at least I don't have to hear them talking about goddamn UFO's and their super trendy drug habits.
I'm dozing, images of flowers and rainbows coloring my head. THUD. Holy fuck, I'm awake. Thud, drag, thud. When I spied the boys moving in about six hours earlier they all appeared to have both legs but now I realize one of them must have a peg leg. More thuds. Techno music. I look at my clock, its 1:00 a.m. I have to be up in six hours and the fucking wooden legged pirate upstairs is having a god damn dance party. I get up and go out to the living room to sleep on the couch. My roommate is sitting there, bleary eyed and pissy looking. We exchange what the fuck glances and I go back to my room.
"Lets play drinking games," someone screams around 2:00 a.m. I am going to get out of bed and go up there. So what if they are hot. They could be a house of male models and I wouldn't care at this point. IT'S MONDAY NIGHT. I consider what I'll say. I might tell them that I am pleased to make their acquaintance on this fine evening and I too question the existence of ghosts. I might also relay that I understand how hard it must be missing a limb but is there a quieter way to get around. Can he get a cushion for the leg?
I mull over my script. Its too nice. "Fuck you and be quiet." That sounds better. I remember that I am wearing an over sized t-shirt that says "Hug Don't Hit" and bright blue pajama pants. I decide to stay in bed and silently cry myself to sleep.
My alarm goes off the next morning and I feel like shit. I get ready and curse the stupid boys upstairs who kept me awake until nearly 4:00 a.m. I somehow make it out the door on time and to my surprise the garbage I had taken out the night before has been ripped open and the contents splayed across the side walk. Ironically enough three of those bags had food waste and one had papers, receipts and various other personal items I threw away while packing my room. Guess which bag was broken and what now litters the street. That's right my birth control packaging, my dirty tissues, my CVS receipts, old pictures and keepsakes.
I now need to clean this up and re-bag it before the garbage dude gets there. I glove my hand with a plastic bag and start loading a new bag. As I am tossing old mardi gras beads a homeless man walks by.
"Scuse me miss, you throwin' those beads away?" The homeless man asks.
"Yeah."
"Can I have them?"
Why the fuck not. I hand over the beads to the homeless man happy to see I have made his day. I repackage the trash, wash my hands of the rabies I have probably just contracted and head to work.
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