When we lived in Chicago we lived in the hood. Not the actual Chicago hood, but the Evanston hood. It was a bit sketchy around our street. Not “bars on the window, wear a bullet proof vest” sketchy, but definitely “don’t go out at night by yourself, always be aware of your surroundings and maybe consider carrying a golf club sketchy.” In the ridiculously inflated real estate prices in a big city, it was what we could afford and we were able to build equity in our condo relatively quickly.
I was reminded of “the hood” when I looked out my front door this week and a hubcap was in our front yard stuck in the snow. This seems to be a gift from someone who felt our yard was lacking something that could only be supplied by a piece of chrome from their automobile. A touching gift really.
Anyway, while reminiscing about our little condo in Evanston, I was reminded of our upstairs neighbors. I first met Tony in the stairway where he introduced himself and told us he lived alone upstairs, but would be getting married soon and was so excited for his fiancee to move in. For some reason, he also chose this first meeting as an appropriate time to apologize for the fact that, because he and his fiancee were staying pure until marriage, there would be a lot of noise coming from upstairs upon their co-habitation. Nice to meet ya.
I should mention at this point that Tony was a rather robust fellow. When I finally met his wife, she was very similar. I am trying really hard not to be insulting here, but they just weren’t the smallest people I have ever met. I should also mention that this particular condo building didn’t have the best sound proofing. I should further mention that several times during the 2 years we lived in the condo, we were awakened at 3:30 am with what I could only describe as some newlywed lovin’ going on. About 600 pounds of lovin’. The kind of lovin’ that is SO LOUD it wakes 2 people out of a dead sleep and disturbs them so much with it’s intensity and duration that they are forced to go out to the living room and watch late night TV to avoid the uncomfortable feeling that you are eavesdropping on other people’s private times.
We grew to be friends with these neighbors. In fact, of all the people in the building they were who we knew the best and trusted with those “we’re going to be out of town can you get the mail for us” kind of things. Still, I never really felt like I could look them in the eye. I also was not surprised in the least when they told us they were expecting. In fact, I am pretty sure I was in some way witness to the conception. The hubby and I also got used to the noise and learned to sleep through it. When we moved I kept looking for the part on the seller’s disclosure where I could detail the fact that “the neighbors upstairs enjoy a very healthy and raucous sex life.” Somehow that box didn’t make it on the form.