This weekend I managed to hurt myself because being unable to walk is apparently not enough of a challenge for me. I tried to get back on the scooter and my right knee slipped and I landed on the toes of the Bad Ankle. Later on that night there was a painful throbbing in my right thigh that was only alleviated by lying on my back and swearing, which can also relieve horniness.
I took 4 Advil at 4:30 in the morning and not only were one of the McPoundersons up and about, but so were the Druggertons, who share a bedroom wall with me. He was yelling, as he always does, at some poor hapless woman. This time it didn't escalate to shouting and screaming, which it has in the past, resulting in me calling 911. That time the woman had been screaming for him to let her go, and I got the impression she was tied up. My 911 call, which I whispered because I'm a big giant coward, explicitly said for the cops to ring me so I could buzz them in through the intercom system but then they were to immediately go to the apartment next door and leave me out of it.
I buzzed in the cops and then of course they came right to my door. After I said "Are you people fucking crazy?" they decided not to arrest me for being obnoxious and went next door. I guess the girl changed her story because the police left her in the apartment. I spent weeks waiting for Mr. Druggerton to confront me but I guess he was too high to remember anything about that night. Since then he's had a lot of different girlfriends but I haven't had to call 911. One night many years ago he got a girl who fought back. She smashed in all his windows, threw his clothes into the pool and broke some huge clay pots with her foot. The entire building wants Druggerton out. He's the George W. Bush of our block.
On the very odd occasion that I am fed up with living in apartment buildings in big cities I always think there would be nothing to do if you lived on a block in a neighborhood in a suburb. I grew up that way and left home at 17, since I was fantastically bored. I panic thinking I could be buying cardboard Girl Scout cookies or discussing lawn fertilizer with a neighbor instead of why I called the cops on the Druggertons. I might be an Incident Junkie.
End of chat.