FUN MONDAY ONCE AGAIN
OUR HOST - The passionate, long suffering, but ever so idiosyncratic Ari from beyond my slab and Buddha .
OUR ASSIGNMENT -Tell us about your all-time worst Neighbors from Hell. You know, the family of Irish clog dancers who once lived in the flat/apartment above you? Mrs. Nextdoor and her banshee-like multiple orgasms? Mr. and Mrs. Hard-of-Hearing with their television on full blast? The guys across the street who set off 4th of July fireworks starting in March and didn't stop until the first real snowfall?
Now a lot of people pull a face when I say we live next to the Pope, (Their last name not “The Pope”). Carl is well know in the area as pretty much a curmudgeon and was most of his life, well all of my life anyway. But truth be know he is a pretty nice neighbor, even with all his fussing around. He is now retire, but every day he brings my Dad the paper, and the mail, he sweeps a path for him when it snows, and when his wife bakes any goods he always brings over a couple for my Dad. Besides if you ask there is little Carl wouldn’t do for you so I don’t think that would qualify. All in all we have pretty good neighbor some have there quarks, but I fear as kids we would have been the bad neighbors for a shear number.
But I will choose the up stair couple my first year at State College, I lived in an apartment on the third floor of a four floor apartment building, with two room mates, D Cupps - Denise and Miss Split Personality - Melissa. While we were all very different we all got along well, Denise was a throw back for the hippy 60’s and was always bring home stray people, Melissa’s personality changed depending on who she was dating at the time. By the second week we knew the whole third floor, most of the second and for the most part became extended family. Apartment doors were left open and depending on what you wanted to do would depend on where you could be found. All was going fine with our little extend family. Than one night about 2:00 am I was awoken by a blood curdling scream. I look across the room and Denise and Melissa are sitting up in bed. The scream again, Melissa grabs her robe and heads to the kitchen to call the police, I grab a baseball bat and head upstairs. Denise heads over to Jeff’s to get the boys and reinforcements. When I get to the top of the stairs I find the door locked, try as I might I am unable to budge the door, another scream. I run back to the third floor and up the stairs on the other side of the building by that time Denise and a few of our neighbors are with us, Melissa yells out that the police are on there way. We get to the fourth floor all is quite not a sound, no music, no water running nothing. Too quite, we all look puzzled at each other and walk down the hall. Than a loud moan as if someone is in pain. We trace it down to the apartment above ours 403. Knock loudly, again nothing, than that mournful moan again. We knock again, and nothing. Just as we decide to try breaking the door down the police show up and a high pitch scream again, they knock on the door, identify themselves and state they will be break the door down. Just as they are ready to hit the door with the ram the door knob turn an a sheepish young man opens the door. The police go in and do what police do in those situations. Later as we were all having a cup of tea to settle our nerves they stop by thank us for our concern and tell us it was just a man and his wife being passionate. Guess they could see the “you got to be kidding look” on our face and they stress again and tried to explain to a bunch of clean cut college kids that some are a little more vocal than others. Their attempt were met with more disbelief and settled for having tea and cookies with us as we joke around.
Denise being the sweetheart that she is even when as far to finding the wife alone one day and to make sure she was indeed ok, she guaranteed Denise she was and it was nothing more than a night of delight. Now all was fine again for about a month than one night in the middle of the night the screams again, we bang on the ceiling to let them know they are disturbing other, to no avail, well more screaming more banging than finally quite, the next night the noise again. The next night the screams again this went on for about a week. Now one of the thing you don’t want to do is deprive an engineering student from the little sleep they are afforded. We are evil, either know how or have friends who know how to rig things and we can get our grease little paws on what we need to accomplish the task. I hope the neighbors up stairs developed a taste for
bagpipe music but either way we never again were awakened in the middle of the night by the screams of the banshee.
Thanks for stopping by you can read the other FUN MONDAY player over at beyond my slab .
I will be away for the next week, trying my culinary skill over an open fire.