Thursday, February 15, 2007

You will never believe what happend to me

Actually you will. but this still rocked my world.
Last night, around 4 AM, when I was dreaming about a big yellow spider (according to it means that have a fear or an inability to make a decision or take action. The spider means that I feel like an outsider in some situations. Or that I may want to keep my distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation. The spider is also symbolic of feminine power. Alternatively, a spider may refer to a powerful force protecting me against my self-destructive behavior), when I heard a human voice. There is a guy who lives here, who talks way too loud on his cellphone when he is climbing the stairs to his studio, so I didn't make much of it. I just thought he was incredibly rude. But, when he announced"C'est moi!!" on the top of his lungs, I knew that it wasn't a friendly cellphone chat. And when he started singing, I quickly realised he was completely hammered. Serenading the whole house, he struggles to make it up the stairs to the second floor where I have my studio, where Drunk Man decides it's the perfect time to look for his keys. Then he notices that there is a couch in the middle of the hall. (don't ask why, I live in a student ville) and decides to make himself comfortable, while singing the same couple of lines over and over again. Now, if I were to speak fluent french, I would be able to tell you what song it was, but because of all the slurring and pauses, I am unable to find the lyrics at this moment. Maybe my fellow Wallonian classmates will be able to help me.

Anyway, he then decides to start the beastly climb to his studio, one the 3rd floor. Climbs back down a couple of times, mutters something like "incroiable", makes some key jiggling sounds (still singing, bien sur) and finally manages to open the door to his studio, slamming the door shut. I think he crashed right into his bed, cuz I didn't hear anything anymore.
Except Ellen who was wide awake (probably with the rest of the house), who was, shame on her, thinking about what a great post this would make. Luckily, I managed to fall back asleep half an hour later.
But, all in all, this story has a happy ending:

  • Drunk Man is a happy drunk. We always prefer happy drunks over aggressive drunks

  • He didn't hurl in the corridor. Or at least, I don't think so. I didn't hear any gagging noises and I'm not smelling anything nasty.

  • He didn't ring my doorbell or try to break into my studio, which happened to my dad once when he was a student.Luckily, Drunk Man only had eye for his music-career.

But man! That dude has to have some hangover! Seriously, why would you go through so much trouble to totally make a fool of yourself, AND blow out your kidneys at the same time? I kind of want to join some uber-conservative women's organization against alcohol. Seriously, where do kids learn to drink like that?

You know, he still owns me for that hour of lost sleep. Maybe I should blast some music with a heavy beat. Or Xiu Xiu perhaps??

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