A Real Hoot

I couldn’t wait to get home from the gym this morning so I could vacuum.
Now, I know you’re thinking, Hey now. Who? What? Where? Vacuum? and checking your moon phase chart to see if that big hunk of cheese is either full or blue tonight. And I understand your confusion. The mere thought of me doing anything domestic is enough to make even the most stoic of people break into an apoplectic fit or at least raise a disbelieving eyebrow. I know. I would be as amused/bemused as you are.
Of course you know there had to be a reason why I’d be so rabid about wanting to perform this chore that ordinarily thrills me as much as listening to someone talk about a qualified subchapter S trust (QSST, for those in the know). That reason, of course, has to do with something I came up with a long time ago called “an eye for an eye”. Perhaps you’ve read about it.
You see, the new tenant who just moved into one of the apartments below mine — the one in the back, which is just underneath my apartments’ two bedrooms — has taken to being a loudmouth miscreant during the hours that non-loudmouth miscreants ordinarily like to perform such activities as, oh, let’s just say, sleep. His first display of inconsideration included speaking in a voice that not only wasn’t sotto voce but one that, if I’d been sitting next to him, I would have had to tell him to modulate. It was that loud. But I wasn’t sitting next to him; I was lying down, trying to do the sleep thing. And he was speaking as if it were 2:00 p.m. instead of a.m.
His next offense, a night or two later, but no earlier during the night, was even more charming. This time he was hooting like an owl. I woke up and heard the hoot, and my first instinct was to holler. To throw open the window (or “the sash”, if I were feeling particularly dramatic, which is my wont) and tell him to kindly shut the fuck up. But then I realized that my window was already open. I shut it, to see if the noise abated, but that was no help. I opened it again, and opened my mouth as well, ready to yell down to him, but decided not to disturb the others in the building. See, there’s this little thing called consideration. I have it for other people. I know it’s an outlandish concept, but what can I tell you. I’m crazy that way. So I shut the window, shut my mouth, and hoped he would do the same.
Last night he was doing something (it involved a sort of pounding) that sounded like running or jumping. I would guess it wasn’t anything sexual, because from the DOG’s description of the guy, it didn’t sound plausible that he would actually be getting “action”.
Ordinarily I will not vacuum (wait, let me finish the sentence) until at least 10:00 in the morning, because I want to be reasonably certain that the people who live below me are awake. The guy who lives in the apartment in the front (under my living room and kitchen) has two dogs, and if for no reason other than that, I don’t want to disturb his household. In some respects I do like to let sleeping dogs lie.
But the guy with the talking and the hooting? Well, no. I have no respect for anyone who shows none for other people.
So, anyway, I came home to vacuum at 7:50 a.m. in order to disturb this jackass’ morning. I figured a little tit for tat, a little eye for an eye, a little pushing coming to shoving … Who knows. I figured that someone who’s so obviously active at 2:00 a.m. isn’t going to be awake before 8:00 a.m. I thought it would be a real hoot to disturb his sleep.
I don’t know if I woke him up, but it certainly made my morning. I feel so much better now.
Note:  For another entry about NOISE, see this entry from just over a year ago.