K8 the GR8

Life in a Semi-D isn’t always easy.

I knew my neighbour was the same breed of smartarse as myself from the minute I set eyes on her.  We knew that there would be a lot of unwanted information shared between us… our super thrifty local authority houses are separated only by a layer or two of plaster-covered polystyrene from the sounds of it, so we knew to keep the t.v. volume low and be aware of the decibel levels of our arguments.  There is something, however, that is very difficult to keep secret.

1.00am - Thump thump thump etc…

1.15am - Thumpthumpthumpthump *pause* thumpthumpthumpthump etc..

1.30am - Thump.  Thump.  Thump. *groan* Thump. *groan* etc…

… this would carry on for a surprisingly long time and we would try so hard not to listen but you know how it is… there’s always the part of us that didn’t mind listening at all, especially since it let us off the hook in the bedroom accoustics on our own side.  We listened to each other’s love-lives for a full month before anyone had the balls to say anything.

Then it happened.  We met each other on our front-door steps one morning and shared a shmoke, but said nothing.  The atmosphere was pregnant, each of us dying to take the piss.  It just needed one trigger… a badly timed pun would do… anything.

“Took a trip to Bargaintown yesterday and got meself a new three-piece…” my neighbour finally said.  “Got bunk-beds for the kids on order too!”

“Savage… gotta love the bunk beds!”  I said, teetering on the edge of a dirty grin.

“Yeah speaking of beds…” (here we go!) “… Ye wouldn’t push yours about a foot away from the wall, would ye?”

That was it.  We exploded in a torrent of filthy laughter and revelled in each other’s embarrassment and it was good.  The issue did eventually require that we both go out and buy sturdier beds (with obligatory celebratory pint!) and since then it’s been quite peaceful… until last night.

It started at about 3.30am and continued for two hours.  I won’t go into details except to say that it was graphic, and awakened a newfound respect in me for my neighbour’s husband.  He really is a trooper by the sounds of it.

She knew just from the look on my face this morning… that ‘HA!! I’m surprised you can walk!!’ face …that no apology was necessary.

I went into town for a few bits today and had a sudden goo for a burger and a portion of tasty-chips but when I dived into the shop to find my neighbour’s husband waiting to take my order I stopped in my tracks.  I nervously examined the menu for a few seconds and decided to go hungry instead and walked away, for the temptation to enquire after his battered sausage was far too great.