You read about buildings like mine in novels and cheesy screenplays never thinking they actually exist. That prewar 7 story structure now wedged in-between the garish new. Despite its issues, it continues to stand but unless, like me, you’re a lover of all things old you barely notice it.
The facade may appear dated and staid but what goes on within its walls is another matter entirely.
When I came home the other night did I get a surprise. One of my neighbors was engaged in some heavy carnal activity making it impossible for me to get up the stairs to my apartment. Like many erections of its kind (pun intended), there is no elevator.
After regaining my composure, not so easily lost living in New York as long as I have, I cleared my throat hoping they’d get the message. Come to find out, I was no match for hallway lust.
My neighbor of 12 years or so is a very passionate gal. Despite walls supposedly built thick as a pyramid, I learned this her first week in residence. This is why it did not surprise me she didn’t notice nor hear me.
One could say she gives focus all new meaning.
I went back out to regroup since I really didn’t know what to do. I like this person and even though I shouldn’t have been, the embarrassed one was me.
She had to take on a roommate to help pay the rent which explains why they were going at it in the hallway but still, I really needed to get to my apartment. After working all day I was ready to drop.
I decided to call her on her cell.
After a series of rings she breathlessly picked up.
“hah, hah, hah, hullo?”
“Hi, it’s me Susannah and well, I hate to bother you but I need to go home and you’re kinda blocking the stairwell. Could you at least move over a bit? I’ll be quick and try not to disturb you.
What was I saying, and why wasn’t I mad? This is the same girl who has kept me up countless times having sex like it was 1985. This is how I got through War and Peace. I’d read till her oohs and aahs called it a night. You can imagine how delighted I was when her roommate moved in cramping her style.
The other thing is, she’s young and healthy and I can’t help feeling a little happy for her. You should have sex in your 30s, tons of it, so you can remember what it’s like in your 50s.
Wish someone whispered that to me.
“I’m so sorry Susannah,” she said, rather horrified.
“Oh it’s alright but I’m going to come back in now, okay?”
When I crept up they were both seated on the step like two naughty school kids. Her mascara was smeared and his zipper was at half mast. To my idiotic credit I pretended it was just any other evening.
“So how’s work?” She looked at me like I was nuts, a fair assessment.
“You’re not mad?”
“Mad about what?” I said, winking at her.
The next time I ask her to ask her roommate to open the window when he chain smokes that carton of Luckies, I hope she remembers this.
I took ‘Love thy neighbor’ to new heights…
well, to the second floor at least.