No Boxspring Bird within earshot

Upon coming home from the laundromat (yes, the damn apartment washing machine is still broken), La noticed that our upstairs neighbor was all done up and leaving the apartment with a date. It was a Sunday, just like the last time she uncaged the Boxspring Bird (ee EE ee EE ee EE!). I was hopeful and expecting a late night wake up call.

I know I should be minding my own business. I'm just rationalizing that it becomes my business when the sound waves travel through the ceiling. They're my sound waves, now! Over the past few weeks a story has unfolded in my mind about her life. You can tell a lot about a person through the sound they make above you.

She gets up in the morning around 7, and for some reason her feet weigh 50 pounds heavier than at night. Right out of the shower, she must put on her high heels because for the rest of the morning I can track exactly where she is in her hardwood floor apartment. She slams open the garage door that make a distinct noises that sound like 3 deep heartbeats. Then, her car starts with an odd wheezing yelp. It's a noisy morning. On the last 3 or 4 weekends (after the moaning marathon), she has been blasting sad music in her living room. I must have heard Beck's Sea Change album on repeat on at least 4 occasions. It made me want to see if she's okay or even just give her a hug. This is what made me root for her last night.

Around 11pm last night, she came home with another set of footsteps and a deep voice. Giggling ensued. It was going to be so on! I fell asleep waiting for something to happen above me. I think I might have heard a moan, but that was probably a dream. 7am this morning, she got up, the deep voice still present. No morning nookie. I can't help to feel disappointed for her. For all I know, it could have been the story of bad intentions turning into a sweet "let's just hold each other" night.

I'm still rooting for you, girl!