Signs of the Apocalypse!
12 hours of hell.
9:00 PM
Last night, my neighbor Butch was on a drinking binge from hell. Butch loves his beer, and nothing is going to stop him from drinking. He's no longer a functioning alcoholic, as the drink has taken control of his life, and I feel bad that he hasn't made the decision to quit.
That being said, last night I would have gladly poured a fifth of vodka down his throat if it would have made him just go to sleep and shut off his damn radio. You see, neither Butch or I have air conditioning, and it has moved into the freaking hot and humid time of Cleveland weather. I have to sleep with my windows open. Butch chooses to stay on his porch all night. Usually that means masturbating, and turning up his music loud enough that it echoes off the houses across the street. My bedroom window is right above that damn radio. Last night...I contemplated cutting the power lines to his house, pouring a bucket of water on the radio from my window, or just swinging a baseball bat. Instead...I called the cops.
This is where it gets interesting. Butch only will turn up his music to songs that he likes. He then turns the music back down. So my first 4 calls to the police resulted in them showing up just as he had turned the music back down (Noise disturbance calls aren't their priority). Since his masturbation acts are always performed behind the porch wall (only I get the fabulous view of watching a man who looks like Jesus Christ pound his pud), they were never able to catch him. Until the last call.
2:30 AM
Butch's radio started playing In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, by Iron Butterfly. You know it...the 22 minute song from hell? He turned it up so the music blared, and I hit the speed dial button to the police station. Upon answering, the dispatcher could hear the rock concert going on outside my bedroom and said "He's at it again, Mr. Doyle???" GOD BLESS THE CLEVELAND POLICE. The squad car came within 2 minutes (I swear they were parked a block away and were waiting to catch the Son of a Bitch), and they had their lights on.
Girl cop, got out of her car, and in her toughest voice screamed...TURN THAT RADIO DOWN!!! And after several argumentative words...Blissful silence...and I finally found sleep.
5:00 AM
Alarm clock goes off. I can barely move I'm so exhausted. I climb out of bed to hit the snooze button, only to accidentally catch the cord with my foot and pull the plug out of the wall. There will be no snoozing now. Decide I should just go for a run by the lake.
6:00 AM
While running by the lake, clouds suddenly roll in and it begins to rain on me. My mood does not improve. As I try to run faster home, I slip on the sidewalk, and go down like the Titanic. Now bruised, wet, and exhausted...I head home. Ironically...it didn't rain by my home...only 1/2 mile away. Fuck.
7:00 AM
Ever take a big drink of milk, only to figure out too late that that it went sour?
7:30 AM
I am now driving on my way to work...cursing every driver that seems to be in my way, when I finally get an opening in the traffic. I start to increase my speed only to be cut off by a black Saturn. I stare at that car with a loathing, wishing flat tires upon him for a month, and then it dawns on me. I recognize the license plate. God...if you really love me...don't let it be who I already know it is.
God hates me! But he made up for it, because as I passed that car, I noticed the new double chin from one too many big mac combo meals, and not a sign of recognition from the spawn of Satan. I debated what I should do for a split second (ignor him?...Cut him off?...ram his car off the road?) and before I could catch myslef, my middle finger had rose to eye level.
9:00 AM
The company cafeteria announces over the intercom system that the coffee machines are broken, and they will not be able to serve any coffee. Panic has now ensued!
