At one point, the girl was downstairs, outside, screaming up at the boyfriend who was, apparently, out on the porch. The endearment that came through loudest and clearest was, "F---k you, Tyler, you drunken ass." Clearly, this was a case of the pot calling the kettle black. The good news was I had reason to hope that she was going home. But, no. She finally went back upstairs so she could get up in his face and continue to scream like a fishwife.
Would someone tell me why it is that people in apartments always feel the need to take the fight outside? This seems to be a fairly universal trait, if history tells us anything. And, apparently they need background music, because the first thing they do when they stagger home is turn on the loud, thumping music, heavy on bass.
I won't go into detail here, but, suffice it to say that these donnybrooks always seem to serve as foreplay. As soon as things quiet down, equally annoying noises begin. Then, all is quiet.
And, here I am, wide awake, sharing my discomfort and disgust with the world. Thank God for the blogosphere. And, thank God this only happens every now and then.
Maybe I can get back to sleep, now. Thanks for listening.