Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Post Valentine's Day


Dear Neighbors Who Live Below Us:

I'm so glad you had a nice Valentine's Day. We had a nice Valentine's Day ourselves. Chelle got me a beautiful photograph of Secretariat winning the Belmont Stakes, signed by jockey Ron Turcotte--you know, that classic shot where he peeks back to see that they're ahead by some 31 lengths or so. And, I made her favorite meal: Pacific Rim pork tenderloin with roasted baby red potatoes and fresh green beans. Dessert was chocolate-dipped strawberries. I also went with a mushy card theme this year instead of the usual humorous Valentine's Day card because I wanted something more heartfelt.

So, I'm all for Valentine's Day. It's a good day for couples to remind each other how much they truly care. Let's face it: sometimes that message can get lost in our day-to-day lives. In fact, the longer we've stayed together, the more I've realized that really, every day should be like Valentine's Day. Every day both persons should try to do at least ONE thing to remind the other "Hey, I love you; you're safe; I'm not going anywhere; I value you; I value us together."

I'm glad you two down below spent at least yesterday reaffirming your bond.

But really. Yesterday was a Tuesday. Didn't you two have to be at work this morning? Now, the first time y'all had sex, I just put in my earphones and finished a movie I'd been watching on Netflix because, you know--your wife is a little loud, and I don't really need to hear her responding to each of your lusty thrusts. In fact, I feel like I'm being forced into eavesdropping, which honestly makes me feel like I'm a little bit of a pervert. (I must say, though, this is the first time I've ever heard you two having sex, and you've lived down there for at least six months now.)

But the second time (or at least the second time I could hear), at 10:30pm, was a little much because, you know--I was almost asleep and then came her high-pitched wailing again. Now I was wide awake again. Alas, my laptop was put away, Chelle was already asleep, and the lights were out, so I had no choice but to lie there and listen to ... well, your grunts and that high-pitched wailing again. I wondered idly if she's ever sung opera. I also had to experience the whole "oh my god I'm a pervert I have to listen to this it sounds like he's killing her" stuff again. It also sounded like you'd changed places in the house and were trying out a different room. Now I am all for variety, so please don't get me wrong.

I do have a kind suggestion, though: maybe you could spread your sexual activity out a little bit and do it more frequently and slightly earlier in the evening instead of trying to pack a year's worth into one single night of the year. I think your wife might be walking a little funny today. Or be adventurous, and try a ballgag or something. Oh, the places you might go!

Thank you. Now where is my coffee cup? I'm hoping there's a pot still on in the break room....

Signed,
Your Upstairs Neighbor

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