Another Saturday Night in the ‘Hood

So it is Saturday night, almost midnight, and apparently my neighbor is quite upset and most likely drunk.  She is upset about something her best friend said/did.  It’s a bit tough to figure out because we are only hearing one side of the conversation.  She must have forgotten that her balcony is not an enclosed sunroom but rather an echo chamber for the rest of her neighbors to hear what is going on.

“What? WHAT?? No, no…[makes some kind of cat-like noise]…you were my best friend.  I don’t understand.  You were there too.” 

At this point, I’m hooked.  Needless to say, SNL was not cutting it as a good form of entertainment.  This is like neighborhood reality television.  What doesn’t she understand?  Where were they? 

While she is outside her boyfriend, pimp, drug pusher, or who-ever tried to pull her inside and she yells at them to stop hurting her then he tells her to shut up because neighbors will think she is being abused.  Because I am not actually outside and can only hear what is going on, I have to assume some of this information.  This could be my neighbors with the over-sized Texas flag that doubles as a curtain or the ones that keep way too much crap on their deck.  Either way, the assumptions can’t be too far from the truth.

“You told me.  My friend would have lied.  [Starts that crazy, drunk-crying]”

Ok, really.  What is this girl’s issue?  Is her friend being honest or too honest?  There is a difference.  Being too honest can get you into trouble and actually be hurtful.  There are ways to get around this.  If you feel you can’t tell the truth then figure out a way to tell the truth about something else.  Someone will show you a picture of someone and states how cute/beautiful/handsome they are..  We all have heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  If I disagree with their general statement, I look for something I can comment on.  No one hands you a pictures so you don’t comment.  Usually, I get away with things by saying something like, “Oh my goodness, look at that cute bow she has in her hair!”  Or, “Wow, look how good that tie looks on him.”  You are giving an honest opinion; it is just centered on something else. 

“I hate this. [Laughs and makes cat-like noise again]”

Ok, how far gone is this chick, she was just crying two seconds ago and now laughing.  So, obviously, whatever the initial fight was, it is now over.  I’m kind of distracted by how someone can make those cat noises.  Maybe there is an actual cat out there with her.  Again, good assumption.

At least two cans have now fallen to the ground and I start to question my own living conditions.  I joke that I live in the suburban ‘hood, but now I am starting to believe it.  Come on, really with (what I assume) beer cans and the noise after midnight?  There are small kids around here trying to sleep. 

The drunk chic on the phone continues her too-loud laughing and I hear an extra loud “SHH”  shh-ing of another drunk person.  There is nothing quiet about a loud shush.  Ask anyone in a church service with restless kids knows this. 

“Open the door.  Seriously, open it!!  [Laughs]  I will pee out here then.”  Apparently, this chick gets her etiquette from watching The Jersey Shore.  Again, I start to question my living situation.

After a small bathroom break, (not mine, but hers) the party continues with more people.  They have started to either play Truth or Dare or are so drunk they are starting to do Drunk Confessions.

The confessions I heard were LAME.  Come on, throwing-up out your window?  Who cares?  Still sleeping with a stuffed animal?  This must be summer camp confessionals.  Driving without a headlight?  Oooo, hope the cops don't catch up to you.  I don't get it.  Usually, it seems like adding alcohol to the equation would make the stories more interesting or at least worth listening to.

I’m not sure when the confession circle turned to singing verses and have the other people guess the song, but this was awful.  I had to turn the volume up on the movie, ANYTHING.  The crazy drunk girl on the phone was easier to listen to than the smooth stylings of 3 Drunk Chicks and a Dude trying to bring sexy back.  This wasn’t even a hilarious, karaoke version of the song, but a cry for help.

Maybe I’ll try to find some AA flyers to leave on their door tomorrow with the empty cans of beer and a stuffed animal…or maybe I should just find a place to live in a better area...