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You are reading the life, times, and general musings of Jenna Tollerson. I am an independent web developer living in and around Athens, Georgia, USA. [read more]
At 3 AM, they started up again.
The boys in number 8 started up band practice again, almost 6 hours after they had finally let up.
At 3 AM, the bass came up through the floor and shook the furniture, shook the glass dining table, clinked together the martini glasses sitting on top the table. The sound was simultaneously melodious and irksome, like a bad pop song that somehow you end up knowing all the words too without ever trying to learn them.
One day, you find yourself singing along.
I should go down there and say something. Take a lesson from the school of Abie and go down there and be very polite and ask them, it so many genteel words, to turn the fuck down.
I pick up my sketchbook and it dawns on me that I should go down there— I should go down there make them pose for me. I could draw boys with guitars and drumkits railing away.
Then it occurs to me that wondering into unfamilar apartments full of strangers without an escort at 3 AM is probably not the safest thing a girl can do.
I curse myself for derailing my own great idea, and wait the half hour til they finally stop again.
You are reading the life, times, and general musings of Jenna Tollerson. I am an independent web developer living in and around Athens, Georgia, USA. [read more]
