Okay. So my upstairs neighbors? Ugly. And not like quirky-indie-movie ugly. I mean straight-up please-don’t-make-eye-contact-at-the-grocery-store ugly. Which wouldn’t be my business at all… except they have sex. Loud sex. Every. Other. Night.
Now, don’t get me wrong...I’m all for people doing their thing. But when your headboard becomes the midnight church bell of this apartment complex, you’ve basically made it my business. And unfortunately, my brain is creative. Which means while they’re up there squeaking, I’m down here painting mental pictures I never asked for. Her body moving in weird puzzle pieces. His frame barely keeping up. Her teeth meeting his lips before her lips do. Yeah. Exactly.
It’s like they’re screaming through the ceiling, “YES, UGLY PEOPLE HAVE SEX TOO!!” And you know what? Fine. Congrats. But must the rest of us be dragged into your PSA?
Possible solutions:
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Blast Digital Underground’s “Humpty Dance” on loop every time they start.
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Knock on the door and casually mention, “Hey, I’ve caught Tuesday’s show, Thursday’s show, and Saturday’s rerun. When’s the season finale?”
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Start fake-moaning along from my apartment like a deranged hype-man. “YEAH, SHORT DADDY! GIVE HER THAT KNOCK-KNEE PASSION!”
Because honestly? Not all sex is sexy. Some of it is just… ugly noise pollution.
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