The Cunts live just above me. At first there was only one Cunt, and that wasn’t her name to begin with. When she had a problem with her stereo, I fixed it for her. She flirted with me and made a fuss over my dog. Apparently it was all just a front to her psychopathic ways.
One evening, a couple of years ago, my former girlfriend and I were at my apartment planning for some quiet time alone. All of the sudden the ceiling starts thumping with bass, vibrating everything in my apartment. I might not have questioned it if I had ever heard such racket coming from upstairs, but I hadn’t. I directed a puzzled look at my girlfriend, squinting an eye and turning up the left side of my lip in disgust. I’m immediately annoyed.
“What the fuck is that?”
“It sounds like your neighbor is playing loud techno music or something.”
“She never listens to techno music, and if she does, I’ve never heard it. She forty-something years old!”
I climbed up on my sofa and pounded on the ceiling. She pounded her heal into the floor.
“She’s mocking me! What the fuck?!”
“Brad, just calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Oh, but it is! I hooked those speakers up and not only is she playing music at a totally inconsiderate volume, but she just pounded her foot back at me and the music is still thumping. If you were playing music really loud and your neighbor pounded on your floor from below, what would you do?”
“Well, I would probably turn my music down.”
I head for the door.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to ask her to turn her music down.”
I march out of the front door, down the steps, across the lawn, up the driveway, up the stairs and knock on her door. She comes to the door as if there is absolutely nothing wrong.
“Do you think you could turn your music down? My girlfriend and I are trying to enjoy a quiet evening at home tonight.”
“No,” she says with ‘fuck you’ subliminally inserted for maximum effectiveness.
I roll my eyes. “Why not?”
“Your dog was barking at 2 o’clock in the morning and it woke me up.”
“I’m sorry. She’s usually only does that when she’s being protective. Now, can you please just turn your music down?”
“No. I have people over, it’s Friday night and we’re hangin’ out.”
I look inside for company, but she seems to be the only one. Besides, there’s no way that they could possibly be conversing, even if she did have people in her apartment.
I pause and look her square in the eyes. “You’re a fucking cunt.”
I immediately turn around and walk back down the stairs. I step off the last stair and she yells down. “Well…you’re a bastard,” to which I let out a hearty laugh as she slams the door.
I walk back in to my apartment with a grin on my face.
“I called her a fucking cunt to her face.”
“Well, she wouldn’t turn her music down and was being a bitch about the whole thing. I started off playing nice, but she wouldn’t play along.”
About ten minutes pass and the music gets turned off. I hear a bunch of footsteps in her apartment and a few minutes later she is walking with a few people to a car parked in front of the building.
The evening marked the beginning of a war.