My apartment window opened into the space between my building and the neighboring building, not really an alley. They kept the trash out there and there was a locked gate to the street. Anyway, if you lived on my side of the building and you had your window open I could hear what you were doing.
They sounded like really boring fuckers. The chick gave what seemed like a predetermined amount of oh babys punctuated by the zombie like moan of the dude. It sounded like he'd just opened really big electricty bill. I don't know that I ever saw these people in the building and if I did I had no idea who they were. I imagined them being pale, 30ish, and frequently dressed in all black-- PC gamers or Renfare types -- folks you didn't want to see porking.
"Maybe they're rehearsing a play," Mongo said in his we turned out the lights forty-five minutes ago I just want to go to sleep voice.
"Yeah, I think it's Ibsen," I gave my pillow a couple of fluffs.
"Did we drink all the booze?"
"Yessir."
"Bummer."
They were still going at it and I couldn't deal with hearing them so I made converastion.
"Did you know that many words such as algebra, alcove, and alcohol are borrowed from Arabic?"
"No."
"Al is the definate article like El in Spanish."
"So I could just call myself the coholic?"
"Totally, Mongo Jones the coholic," I giggled.
The couple eventually stopped. The last thing I remember hearing Mongo say before I fell asleep was that while I was at work the next day he planned to sneak into movies at the Fox Tower.