…in exactly the same way that bricks don’t. Harmir: got me summa them now. Shit, what are you gonna do. Nothing you can do. Just woke up and they’re still there.
And here’s why I woke up: there was knocking. Knocking on the door. And it kept on. And I tried to ignore the fuck out of it. So finally I come to the door and some leftover genetic malfunction of a man, all pink and lurpy with that white trash moustache that you love so well, is asking me if my window is open.
No apology. No “I’m sorry sir to wake you up, but…”
I tell him I don’t know if my window is open. He tells me that “If it is, it needs to be closed for point grinding.” I tell him okay, I’ll shut it if it’s open. I close the door. Then there’s another knock. I open the door again.
“So is it open?” the same waste of skin asks me.
“I think so, yeah. I’ll close it.” I tell him. I shut the door.
Another knock. I open the door again.
“Please close it.” the motherfucker says, apparently not noticing the fact that he hasn’t yet given me the three and a half seconds I need to get my ass across the damn room and shut the damn door. At this point I want to grab him by the face and smash his skull into the door latch.
“Hold on to this door,” I tell him, “so that the spring doesn’t shut it again. And then you can watch me close it.” He actually takes the door and watches.
I go and shut the window.
And having finally seen with his own hairy-possum eyes that I did indeed close the window, he lets the fucking door slam. No “thank you,” no apology for waking me up or for acting like he was the fuzzy foetus of his mother and her half-wit brother.
So now my window has to stay closed all day, so that the room can get all hot and poisonous, while this insane grinding noise goes on just outside of it for renovation. No problem, though… since I have no Internet access in there anymore, I’m not in there anyway. I’m sitting on a bench on the first floor half asleep and drooling on my keyboard.
The charm of I-House is wearing off really fast.