For the first time since moving to NYC, I have neighbors I don't just like, but truly adore. They're a bit younger than me, there are three of them squashed into a one-bedroom because they're financially struggling grad students, and they're fun to have a few beers with once in awhile.
But truth be told, they're putting a damper on my sex life.
Since they're new to the city (and fresh out of college), they have yet to understand that, as New Yorkers, we don't really know or associate with our neighbors. Why? Because we're assholes. Or more seriously, we're a busy lot and not exactly the friendliest of people. I know this is a horrible stereotype, but it's true. I'm blown away when someone in my building says "hello" or a stranger actually takes the extra few seconds to hold the door for someone. You can't help but be mildly confused.
Just as I started to get to know my new neighbors, I started hanging around a guy who, like me, keeps unconventional work hours. As a writer who works from home, I'm sometimes up until 2 or 3 a.m. trying to reach a last-minute deadline, and the dude in question is a tattoo artist, so he works from late afternoon until midnight. Basically, while people are working their day jobs, we're screwing. While this was all fine and good when my grad student neighbors still had classes during the day, the situation has now changed thanks to the summer.
On more than a few occasions, I have been mid-orgasm when I get a knock on the door from my neighbor Adam. I try my best to continue with what I'm doing, but he knocks louder and yells that he knows I'm in there because he can hear the music. Again, my guy and I will try to ignore it and continue about our business, but I'm often forced to cover myself in a sheet and beeline it to the door where I have to quickly explain, all while ruining the mood, that I'm "indisposed" and I'll pop over later. Sometimes Adam gets it, but sometimes he doesn't. On those days when he doesn't, he goes out on the fire escape and tries to crawl into my window. How many times has he been scarred at the sight of me having sex in my own apartment? At leave five times in the last couple of weeks, and yet that hasn't stopped him.
During one instance, I was having sex on the couch in my living room, and heard a thud in my bedroom. Who was it? Adam, coming through the fire escape. He always sweetly apologizes, then uses the apartment door to leave, but it's getting to the point where I'm almost in constant fear that he will interrupt us, so it's taken the thrill out of our afternoon romps!
I have told Adam time and time again that if I'm home and not opening the door, it's for one of two reasons: I'm working or I'm having sex. But for some reason, the little darling has yet to understand this concept. I'm waiting for the day he starts dating someone, because you better believe I'll be crawling through his window, too. Fair is fair, don't you think?
Have you ever had your neighbors ruin your sex life?
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