very often, loud sounds can be heard coming from apartment 108, directly beneath ours. the loud sounds are mostly from tim, either blaring his awful music (generally, it will be the same song played on repeat) or shouting obscenities at his partner of a really, really, really long time, ken. or grunting, tim grunts a lot.
his preferred obscenity for ken is "fuckface."
tim and ken are an older gay couple. they have been together since ken was handsome enough to be a trophy boyfriend, and tim has always been the one who's paid ken's way. tim still pays ken's way, but begrudges him every cent now that he is older and not quite the trophy he used to be.
the arrangement: tim pays. ken cleans, does laundry, picks up trash in the space between our apartment building and the one behind us. tim lives in 108. ken used to. tim is fond of kicking ken out at all hours, and ken used to have to go sit in the lobby and cry while tim cooled off or had another glass of wine. now, tim rents ken an apartment on the third floor. this is so that when he needs to tell ken to "get the fuck out now!!!" ken has a place to go. it is also another thing to hold over ken's head when he lists all of the things he provides for ken.
did i mention tim is an alcoholic? he is.
he drinks white wine exclusively.
for a long time i have wanted to write a story about this, about how ridiculous it is, about how both coley and i are frequently woken up from sound sleep or our waking activities are interrupted by crashing noises or mini-operettas or yelling at the fuckface dog who lives up the street from us. but its ridiculousness is hard to capture, and hard to explain so that it can be understood or believed.
after all, coley used to tell stories and imitate tim before we lived together and i mostly thought she was exaggerating. she wasn't.
the life of tim and ken is sad but true. they are both very sick people, embroiled in an abusive relationship with each other & booze where neither one of them is ever happy.
but the life of ken and tim is also fascinating and amusing to me. obviously, i do not find it funny that tim is emotionally abusive to ken. or that ken is such a whiney bitch. but i do find tim's grunting funny. and it makes me laugh when ken goes out to try to quiet the dog up the street. and i always laugh when i see tim on his porch drinking white wine and chatting with the neighbors. in his underpants. at ten o'clock in the morning. and sometimes he says just really quotable things. so often, in fact, that coley and i have got many choice ones written down.
how about these quoteables?
*i am tim, and you are NOBODY.
*you are a user, ken. and yet you have a tiny little dick.
*you're just like a little boy with a dirty diaper on!
*so on top of everything else, i have to be PSYCHIC??!
*i can't see anyone today. i have a lot of things to discover about myself.
conversations with ken:
ken: is there anything else you need from the store besides hair stuff?
tim: a lot of things, ken, that you can't provide.
tim: can you let the cats out? i am very tired!
ken: why are you so tired?
tim: i was up all night, crying into my pillow... and praying.
to the neighbor:
... i mean, 'cause isn't that what life is all about? enjoying what you have?
to one of the cats, freddy, while brushing him:
*whine all you want, but i'm the one who pays the bills!
*do you want daddy to throw you over the porch??!
that is only a little glimpse.
about two weeks ago, ken and tim were at the neighbors having a barbeque and drinks. tim was overheard telling the neighbors that he was going to "party his brains out" as he would be off to rehab the next day, for thirty days. not because he was an alcoholic of course, but for his health.
the next morning, tim left. it was so quiet, it was almost eerie.
two days later, tim was back, a friend in tow. apparently, tim and his new friend decided to skip out of rehab together and just hang out in apartment 108, drinking. for the last two weeks, drink is what they have done. tim lounges around with white wine, while his friend sips coronas.
or, they did, i should say.
this weekend tim and the new friend went on a rager.
i saw them drinking on the patio saturday afternoon. later that night, while laying in bed, attempting to watch pulp fiction, the sounds of whitney houston could be heard from below. the sounds of whitney houston, tim, and his new drunk friend, in unison. later, "i'm every woman." i somehow managed to finish the movie and fall asleep around two or three that morning, though tim and his new friend were nowhere near sleep, and nowhere near quiet.
the next morning, possibly even before ten, when i removed myself from bed, they were at it again. maybe they'd never let up, i don't know precisely. but what i do know precisely is that on sunday they were lounder than ever.
and where was ken?
ken had been kicked out.
sunday morning's music drowned out mine, so i turned it off and left the house. several hours later, i returned, only to find the situation exactly as it had been earlier. loud music, lots of drinks, and nice conversation on the porch.
"when i do, i go all out, push up bra and everything." it was tim. i was intrigued, but he and his new friend went inside just then, and turned up the music, making it impossible for me to hear any further conversation about this transvestitism.
about an hour later, the new friend is on the porch when tim comes out, yelling, "see?!? don't i look goooood??!?" to which his new friend replied enthusiastically, "there is just no denying how good you look!"
unfortunately, the way our apartment is set up, you can't always see what's happening on the porch down below, and i missed out on whatever tim was wearing that was undeniably looking so good.
the two spent the entire sunday drinking. also, the entire night. i fell asleep to the sweet sweet sounds of drunk tim and friend. sometime around six in the morning i woke up to the sweet sweet sounds of "get the fuck out of my house, fuckface!!!" which i assumed was just more of the same, tim yelling at ken. i went back to sleep.
as i was leaving for work this morning, adolfo, our building manager, stopped me in the stairwell to ask me if coley was home. she'd left for work, so i said no. he asked if i would have her call him. sure, i said. i thought maybe we were in trouble until he asked "did you happen to hear anything from below you last night?"
when i got to work there was a message from coley asking me if i had heard any of the sounds from down below in the wee hours of the morning. no, i replied, just tim yelling at ken. nothing unusual.
i really missed out, i guess.
apparently tim and his new friend really threw down some obsecenties and racial slurs at each other, over several thousand dollars that may or may not have been supposed to be paid to the new friend, which tim did not have. or did have, but didn't want to give him, as he did not want him to leave just yet. i am still trying to imagine the scenarios which could have led up to this moment.
many people in our building complained. adolfo is asking everyone to write letters, gearing up to kicking tim out.
it just gets weirder every day.
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