Humpdays: Vicariously

In an attempt to structure myself,
I may or may not implement
themes to certain days.
Clearly Wednesday Humpdays are an easy start.
So, without further adieu....


There is no better remedy for
returning from a long night of aimless drinking
whilst suffering from a lack of nerve to approach someone
than a strong nightcap and a good Netflix queue.
You turn off the lights,
cozy up in bed under the sheets,
and prepare for a marathon of your favorite Cartoon Network show.
[It's a recent add to Netflix. Overly spectacular, I know!]



Shortly after your favorite character's catchphrase - we'll use "Oh My Glob!" in this case - you hear moaning.
Realizing as a grown young adult
that many cartoons carry strong sexual undertones, you recognize the source of the moan as not your laptop.
Curious as George, you pause the show.

The next sound instantly alerts you to what's happening: the clacking of a headboard against the wall.
Your roommate is once again "getting it in."
Immediately, you are plagued by a strong case of hate.
Your brain racks for ways to cockblock,
maybe by blasting the ending credits of your show
at truck volume for even the neighbors to hear.
Oh god, can the neighbors hear the sounds of intercourse, too?

Snapping back to reality,
you realize you should be happy for them.
From the sounds of it,
they're pretty happy themselves.
Then you feel like a perv,
listening for over a minute all ready.
Jaded, you take another gulp of your nightcap.
"Fuck it," you think. "I'll listen for rhythm's sake,
see how good they really are."
And also because your lonely self
could use the pointers.

And so you continue to stalk your roommate
and their partner through the paper thin walls
without even readjusting yourself in bed.
Your room suddenly turns black
from the laptop conserving its energy
from lack of use in the past five minutes.
You enjoy the sex sounds
like a dull married couple
enjoys the music of the rainforest
but tenfold.

Then you hear her scream in ecstasy.
The deed is done,
and you can only stare at a wall in amazement.
Hearing one of them squeak out of the bed,
you frantically type the password into your laptop
and attempt to watch Adventure Time as quietly as possible.

The next morning
- when you wake up past noon
and spot your roommate on the couch -
you casually mention the poor quality of the walls
and smirk at each other like the devilish 20-somethings you are.
It'll be a vicarious night you won't forget for some time to come.
Word