So, I lived in a place where the houses were basically made out of ticky-tacky. And yes, many of them did all look the same, as the “city” really only got popular from the 60′s on. My sister even wondered if it was the city that inspired the song.
The apartment I lived in technically wasn’t connected to the neighbor’s, but the walls were so thin — the outer walls — that I could easily hear his music, a blend of show tunes and sad folk songs, which he sometimes sang to in a blustery quaver. There’s a lot I could say about my complex, haunted neighbor, but tonight, I remembered one thing: what he sounded like when he came!
He was old enough not to care about people seeing or hearing him having sex, and he had some regular casual hookup nights. I think there was a group he went to on Thursdays, because he always came back with someone to have sex with. Usually, we were too busy making techno to hear anything, but one Thursday night, I was lying in bed with gut-burning nausea.
It was, of course, made worse by the fact that it was about 90 degrees — the usual temperature for about half the year — with no air conditioning unit, since we’d probably fry the whole block’s circuits if we put one in. I got the dubious honor of hearing my neighbor’s orgasm.
I tended to think of my neighbor as a hot guy who had long ago run to seed, and the sound he made wasn’t remotely sexy. It was the exact sound that a guy makes when he discovers that his pet had done something bad on the rug, or when his friend tries to shock him with a disgusting — and probably false — story. In fact, when I heard it, I thought he was on the phone. It took me a few moments to catch up.
“Ugh!” What is that smell?
“Ugh!” I stepped in something squishy.
“Ugh!” Please, spare me the details of your bodily processes.
“Ugh! Ugh!” Oh God, it’s leaking all over the floor!
I had to bury my face in the pillow to muffle my laughter. Even if he had heard, though, I don’t think he would have minded. We both had an over-developed sense of the absurd.
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