Tabatha Deans

THE DOM NEXT DOOR
With the warmer weather I enjoy the luxury of sleeping with both of my windows open. My apartment is on the corner of the building, so one window faces west, and the other faces south, so I get a pretty good cross-breeze that brings the cool night air across my bed. The south-facing window looks over the alley way, with the building next to me being about 20 feet away. When my neighbor, number 36, has her window open, the noise bounces off the wall of the neighboring building, which amplifies the sound and bounces it back through my window.
The girl who lives there is pretty quiet, doesn’t often have visitors, and I believe is in her early to mid-thirties. I see her occasionally in passing, and have heard her come home stumbling drunk with friends a couple of times. Last night was one of those times, and I heard 36, a man’s voice, and what sounded like a quiet, shy third voice of a girl. I tolerated the first 20 minutes of the loud, but muffled talking coming through the wall, covering my head with my pillow and trying to drown them out.
Then I heard number 36 raise her voice. I sat up in bed and leaned closer to the wall. Her voice alternated with the other girl’s voice I’d heard, and they appeared to be yelling at the guy. Perhaps they were in trouble. I strained to hear what they were actually saying, my heart rate increases anytime I hear raised voices, and automatically assume there’s danger. The voices were definitely getting louder, and I heard the intermittent interjection of the man’s voice. Something bad was going on, and I grabbed my phone and stepped into the bathroom to see if I could hear better through the vent.
Yup, I was sure of it. Trouble was a brewin’ in apartment 36, and I prepared to do my neighborly duty and call 911. Then they opened their window. And I realized that the only angry voices coming from number 36 were not the kind to call the cops about. Someone was getting yelled at, and apparently they liked it.
I put my headphones on, cranked up the sounds of the 70’s, and reminded myself that I moved here hoping for the true urban experience, and apparently I was getting it.

June 1, 2012 - Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized