Whilst bustling about my still-in-the-fixing-up-stage room tonight, it got really stuffy and hot. That lead me to open the two windows to let some fresh air in. It really served to cool the room down nicely. As an added bonus, it brought in all sorts of ambient sounds from outside. Cars passing by. Occasional horns blaring in the distance. (Not the sound of sirens wailing, however; tonight was clearly pretty chill around here.) The conversation taking place across the street between two disputing daters. Two nights before I made the big move out to California, I was up late cleaning vigorously. The act of cleaning produced quite a bit of trash, which around midnight, I decided to run out to the dumpster. Being outside anytime past 11:30 at my old apart complex always made for an interesting experience. Tailgate parties were pretty common, for instance.
This night was no exception. I was treated to a raging dispute between two clearly fucked up lovers: one an eccentric woman with a buzz cut, the other her drunk boyfriend/husband guy. Who happened to be in the car, preparing to drive away while she screamed obscenities into his ear from outside the driver's side window (which was rolled down). Had I bothered to count, I may have found that she used an average of five swear words for each sentence, each sentence averaging 7-10 words. I didn't count, however, because I happened to be sane enough to know that I shouldn't probably stick around. Maybe I was clued into the fact that the guy kept inching backwards (by about a dozen inches at a time) while the nearly bald girl screamed and then profusely apologized and held onto the car and was being dragged across the pavement (sort of) as she begged him to come back inside even though she had just informed him of how much she "fucking hated his guts."
So tonight, when I heard the little "argument" across the street, I was profoundly disappointed that it didn't have the obvious Maury potential like the aforementioned fight. It was really more of an Oprah moment, I guess, as the girl spoke in a somewhat raised voice about having set aside time to spend with the guy, and he just didn't understand that other human beings had feelings. The whole argument was so logical and, well, rehearsed, that I couldn't bear to eavesdrop for more than a few minutes. I wonder what that says about me. Maybe it says that if your drama falls short of entertaining me with lines such as "I fucking know better than to fucking take your shit" followed by "Don't go! Don't fucking go! Arrrghhh!!!! I fucking hate you! Wait! I love you! Just come back inside, PLEASE!!", I won't bother breaking out the soda and snacks and trying to figure out the whole story there. Maybe.