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Sunday, December 20, 2009

Ooh Ooh Aah Aah

News stories of the “strange but true” never cease to amaze me. I get a total kick reading them, and sometimes they bring back a memory or two.

This past week I read with piqued interest about the married British couple who’s been issued a court-ordered ban on their noisy lovemaking sessions. Catherine Cartwright and her husband Steve are so loud when they succumb to the passions of the flesh that neighbors describe the noises as “murder” and “unnatural,” with the city council saying the noise registered 47 decibels. Wow.

Okay... either Steve has special talents that belong in the Guinness Book of World Records, or Catherine has an overly active and overly sensitive kitty cat, or they both love putting on a show.

I remember a few year ago having the same problem with neighbors who lived above me. They were like clockwork; every morning at 3:50 AM she would start moaning, actually gasping for air, and then her voice when get higher and higher and louder and louder. She was a chorus of “ooh, ooh, aah, aah” until she reached that moment of surrender with ear piercing glassing shattering noise. Not even the Tabernacle Choir could reach such high notes.

The first night I woke up thinking the fire alarm had gone off.

The second night I got... well... I... enjoyed the rhythm... Aaah.

The third night I was really tired and cursed their overactive loins.

The fourth night I was still tired from the night before and had had enough. When Marcy finally screeched her orgasmic shrill cry of freedom, and Johnny grunted and groaned and finished bouncing on top of her, I opened my bedroom window and applauded them; not once; not twice; but a standing ovation kind of applause.

Marcy laughed. Johnny grunted, “What the fuck, man?”

I slammed my window shut.

The next day in the hallway they avoided eye contact.

They moved shortly thereafter.

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