GOT COOL WHIP?
The problem with going too far is that you never realize you’ve gone too far until you see the expression on everyone else’s faces. Then its a struggle to kind of back-up from the scene you’ve just created. Sometimes you have to back-up so fast you can hear the warning
As you move.
Sometimes you just leave the scene without explanation because there is nothing you can say.
Today I may have gone too far.
Please understand the environment where this all happened before you judge me though.
For the moment, I live in an apartment complex in Los Angeles. My apartment has a balcony which has a lovely view of my neighors across the way and their balconies in a competing apartment complex. I’m on the third floor which, from my angle is actually the fifth floor because we have two levels of above ground parking before you get to the apartments.
In between the two apartments is a man-made canyon of incongruent levels, sidewalks, alley, and even grass. The two companies who made these buildings were NOT in agreement with each other regarding design and overall appeal between the two buildings. As such, it gets quite echo-ey.
I currently work from home, which as a writer, works well for me as I usually get the kind of quiet that only comes from everyone else being at work. But not everyone has a job.
I’m doing business on the phone when I hear a woman’s loud voice screech “(NAME)!”
Aw hell, for the purpose of this story let’s call my next door neighbor Dick!
So I’m on the phone when the woman in the next apartment, standing on her balcony, shouts,
It’s right next door, right? Loud as all get out and echoing.
I try to continue my own conversation on the phone. I go over and shut my glass sliding door. That just lowers her screech by a few octaves but does nothing to lessen the decibels.
Christ Almighty Freaking cupcakes, dude! Answer the woman! Then a man’s voice echoes from below.
“YOU CALLING ME?”
Woman: “YEAH! MAKE SURE YOU BUY SOME COOL WHIP!”
Woman: “BUY SOME COOL WHIP ON YOUR WAY BACK!”
Dickie: “I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU!”
Woman: “BUY SOME COOL WHIP!”
Dickie: “THERE’S TOO MUCH ECHO!”
Woman: “BUY SOME COOL WHIP FOR TONIGHT!”
Woman: “ANSWER YOUR CELL PHONE!”
Woman “I’M CALLING YOU ON YOUR CELL PHONE!”
I decide to hold on with the person I’m speaking to as I now feel the matter will soon be resolved without further Jerry Springer inbred ado. No such luck.
Woman: “AN-SWER YOUR CELL PHONE!”
Dickie: “I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU!”
Woman: “FORGET IT! YOU LEFT YOUR CELL PHONE UP HERE!”
Woman: “YOUR CELL PHONE!!! IT’S UP HERE!”
Dickie: “LOOK, I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”
I’m just boiling right now, see? Buncha inconsiderate motherfuckers! People live here and these two old farts are screaming their goddam heads off at each other.
Woman: “NO!!! WE NEED COOL WHIP!!!”
Dickie: “JUST TELL ME WHEN I GET BACK!”
Woman: “NO!!! WE NEED COOL WHIP!!! TO-NIGHT!”
You can see my problem, right? You can understand why I’m going crazy, trying to conduct business and having this shit going on right next door to me. I hastily say goodbye, hoping I’m not being rude to the person on the other end of my phone. Then I step out onto my balcony to end this mess. I thought I was going to tell the both of them to Shut the Hell up when I get sucked into the vortex of conversation. My female neighbor is a much older lady and as soon as she sees me she begs for my help. There are tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. This poor old lady is screaming her voice ragged for her freaking Cool Whip.
Woman: “Can you please help me?”
So right now I’m very angry, right? But half of the people who’ve roused my anger are now asking for my help to end the problem. She must really need that Cool Whip. Perhaps she has to take it with her medication or something.
As any of my friends will tell you, I’m not only a helpful cuss, I also have a deep voice that both carries and projects quite well.
And I want to help.
But I’m still really angry.
But I still want to help.
So I shout into the apartment complex canyon thusly,
“SHE WANTS SOME FUCKING COOL WHIP!!!”
“…FUCKING COOL WHIP! Fucking Cool Whip!” echoes with far greater timber than both of their yelling combined. And after the echoes, dead silence. It’s like my voice even made the traffic stop. A silence like you get after a tidy A-Bomb sweeps the area.
That kind of silence.
Only in my frustration I publicly dropped an F-Bomb. Mommies and babies live here too. Christ, I may have gone too far!
I pop back into my apartment like a cuckoo in a clock.
Dickie’s voice warbles up, softer than a shout.
Then to my astonishment: the very cherry on the top of this freaking scene; up echoes old Dickie’s horny chuckle with a snicker so perverse I can feel the sex-in-a-bar-bathroom leer riding on the sound waves – which makes me want to puke.
I hope I don’t get kicked out.
(originally posted on June 14, 2007 – Thursday at my MySpace.com site)
P.S. I didn’t get kicked out, but Dickie and the old lady moved.