That’s pretty much all you need to know about how I feel about arguing neighbors.
A few weeks ago my upstairs neighbors had quite the drama. This guy and this girl, a couple, went at it for hours — yelling, screaming, and crying until nearly 4am. Although it would’ve been nice of them to let me sleep, I must admit it was probably one of the best reality shows ever.
Much of what these maniacs were saying was audible through my ceiling, walls, and windows, but I was not able to hear every single word. Basically, it was the dude’s apartment, and he just found out his girl cheated on him, repeatedly, with her ex! Juicy.
He just kept crying, and yelling for her to “Get the fuck out! Get the fuck out of my house! Get the fuck out of my life! You’re a liar! All you do is lie!”
Not to be biased to my own gender, but it sounded like the guy wasn’t at fault at all. This girl actually blamed her infidelity on her “own insecurity.” Oh, shut up. She kept trying to seduce him to calm him down, in attempts to get him to give her one more chance.
At one point they went out on the balcony for a cigarette, and I could hear every single word, crystal clear. He went on, “You’re a cool girl, but not right for me.” She was begging for more chances, and I so desperately wanted to chime in.
It would’ve been hilarious (at least to me) if some voice out of nowhere would’ve randomly blurted out an opinion on the situation. “Dude, you can do better. There are plenty of girls in L.A.”
In the end I decided to bite my tongue, and stay out of this. I’m proud of myself for exercising restraint. You people should be proud of me, too.
So how did this all end? Who knows, and who cares.