Friday, January 1, 2016

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Tuesday, December 22, 2015
The Princess next door wakes up at 8 a.m. You know this because you are awakened by his typical annoying habit of playing his dreary music loudly enough for him to hear it over the shower—and for you to hear it clearly as well. He eventually leaves for work, but when he returns in the evening, he turns on the television in his bedroom, and it sounds like he’s listening to an old industrial film punctuated at times by loud car crashes.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015
The Princess finally goes to sleep at about 2 a.m., or at least, the noise from next door quietens down at around 2 a.m. Oddly enough, he doesn’t play music in the morning (or, perhaps, he doesn’t take a shower that day). You and The Boyfriend go to a movie, do a little shopping, have a nice dinner, and return home to find a party next door in full swing. The noise level isn’t as loud as parties in the past have sometimes had, but other neighbors still complain because by midnight it’s still going on. Exhausted, you fall asleep with the thumping of the usual bad music associated with The Princess’ parties.

Thursday, December 34, to Wednesday, December 30, 2015
No noises from next door. The Princess and, apparently, Bigfoot, his roommate, are gone for the Christmas holidays. You are able to wake up when you please. You are able to go to sleep when you please. No loud music. No television. Nothing but the lovely peace and quiet you’ve come to associated with the Princess’ holiday visits to his trashy family in Texas. I have no idea where Bigfoot goes, but you have to assume it’s somewhere in the Pacific Northwest.

Thursday, December 31, 2015
As you’re getting ready to go to a New Year’s Eve party at a friend’s home, you hear the not-so-faint sounds of what seems to be an old-time industrial film punctuated by car crashes. The joy of the holidays has obviously ended. The Princess has returned, and he’s back to his old ways.

Friday, January 1, 2016

You get home at about 1:30 a.m. You’ve eaten well and had a few celebratory drinks, you’ve watched the ball drop in Times Square (on television, of course), and you’ve kissed and hugged everyone and wished them “Happy New Year.” You’re tired and want to sleep. You go to brush your teeth and hear what sounds like the same stupid movie that was playing in the morning. You wonder if there’s some long industrial film on an endless loop next door. You grit your teeth and think that at least he’ll have to go back to work on Monday, giving you a few hours during the day without his racket. 

No comments: