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Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

28 October 2011

The Shouty McDeaferson's Upstairs

Dan can't hear.  Seriously.  He is completely deaf in one ear and partially deaf in the other.  

Long story short, dude can't hear shit. 


This means that we spend a LOT of time shouting at each other.  A LOT.  

Dan shouts because that's how he talks and I shout so he can hear me.  Which he can't, even when I shout.  Which leads to him shouting even louder because he seems to think that the louder he screams "WHAT???" at me, the more likely I am to speak up, because obviously, it's my fault that he can't hear me.  Of course.  But you knew that, right?

A typical exchange in our house goes like this:

Me:  *shouting from the living room to Dan in the bedroom, where he has the tv cranked up to 453724503847 decibels, which is drowning out whatever I'M watching in the living room (probably Deadly Women or Snapped! or both, using picture in picture)* "Hey, Dan?  Can you turn the tv down, please?"

Dan:  *shouting over the tv* "What?"

Me:  *louder*  "I said, can you turn the tv down please?"

Dan:  *wayyyyy out-louding MY loud*  "WHAT?"  

Me:  *yelling at the top of my lungs*  "CAN YOU PLEASE TURN DOWN THE TV!!"

Dan:  *getting pissed because he's deaf and can't hear me and as I said, that's my fault*  "I CAN'T HEAR YOU, DANI.  WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

Me:  *getting fed up and walking into the bedroom, where I bellow like a bull moose who just got shot by a tranquilizer dart*  "I SAID TURN DOWN THE FREAKING TELEVISION!"

Dan:  *instantly wounded and butthurt*  "You don't need to yell... Jesus, Dani!  We live in an apartment building.  Have a little consideration, for God's sake!! Why are you yelling at me?"

(The irony of this is that Dan's "indoor" voice is louder than my yelling voice, but obviously that's beside the point.  *eyeroll*)

Me:  *squelching the desire to leap upon him and beat him to death with my tiny bare fists*  "Why didn't you just turn down the tv when you realized you couldn't hear me?"

Dan:  *looking at me as if I'M the stupid one*  "Ummm... because I couldn't hear you and didn't know what you wanted?"

GAHHHHHHHH!

Me:  *with the patience of a friggin' sain't, yo... seriously, most people would have killed him by now*  "Wouldn't it make sense to turn down the freaking volume on the tv so you could hear me?"

Dan:  *because it's never his fault*  "Why didn't you just come in here in the first place instead of yelling at me from the living room?"

This is where we generally reach an impasse.





With as much complaining as I do about our downstairs neighbor, Mr. Awesome, I can't help but wonder if the extreme douchery works both ways.  I mean, he has his skank of the week, whom he bangs loudly on a regular basis, his loud karaoke parties that we aren't invited to (asshole), his music, which he cranks up so loudly that my furniture rattles, his motorcycle that he never rides but sits on and revs the engine for 45 minutes at least twice a week, his freaking CAR ALARM that goes off like clockwork every other day or so, and speaking of CLOCKS, his chiming clock that goes off EVERY 15 MINUTES...

Wait... what was my point again?

Oh yeah... he's a douche.

But I'm thinking that so are we.

Ponder, ponder...

Could it be?  Is it possible?  Do the real douche bags live upstairs?

Dan is LOUD.  And by "loud", I don't mean he makes a little too much noise.  I mean he walks loudly, he talks loudly, he laughs loudly, he farts loudly, he snores loudly... When Dan is in the apartment, his presence is known.  He is incapable of being quiet.  When he gets up in the middle of the night to pee, he stomps across the bedroom floor, walks into the door, trips over his own feet, curses and swears because he's pissing himself off, bumps and bangs his way into the bathroom where he crashes into the door, flips up the lid of the toilet and smashes it into the tank... And then he repeats the process on his way  back to bed.

Which is why I always know... ALWAYS... if Dan got up in the middle of the night to pee.  And I'm pretty sure Mr. Awesome knows, too.

(And there is the sliiiiight possibility that I've made a little noise, myself.  Maybe.)

And his "telephone" voice... Oh God help me.  I refuse to let him answer his cell in public places because he literally YELLS into the phone.  

Dan is so loud he echoes.

But he doesn't realize it.

He does, however, always realize it when I'M being too loud.  Imagine that.  And he points it out.  Loudly.  

Earlier this evening, we had this brilliant conversation:

My oven door came off the hinges this afternoon when I opened it to bake an apple crisp.  I slipped it back on, which seemed to work, and promptly forgot about it.  Well, tonight, after I finished the dishes and was washing the counters, I noticed the oven door was still a little askew again.

I opened it, slid it into the hinges, and shut it.

Dan, from the bedroom:  "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?"

Me:  "I was putting the oven door back on the hinges."

Dan:  *top volume, people... TOP. VOLUME.*  "CAN'T YOU HAVE A LITTLE CONSIDERATION FOR OUR NEIGHBORS?  WE'RE NOT THE ONLY ONES WHO LIVE HERE, YOU KNOW!!  YOU CAN'T BE MAKING THAT KIND OF NOISE THIS LATE AT NIGHT!!!  JESUS, DANI... PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!"

(I love that my neighbors know how big of an ass I am.  Dan thinks he's being funny when he says this to me, along with "You're a LYING ASS!" if I tell him something he doesn't want to hear, or when he informs me that I'm an asshole. They probably think I'm the LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.)

Me:  *because I AM Mrs. Captain Obvious*  "Your yelling is wayyyy louder than my oven door rehinging.  Just an F to the Y to the I."

Dan:  "Oh bullshit."

Yup.

And then there's the tv.




Watching tv with Dan makes me want to slit my wrists.

It goes like this:

We will sit down together to watch something that we've recorded.  All is well, all is happy, I'm laughing softly to myself and appreciating the fine, fine comedy that is Friends...

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *hitting pause and telling him what was said*

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *hitting pause and telling him what was said*

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *throwing the remote at him*  "HERE... JUST TURN IT UP SO YOU CAN HEAR IT!!!  GODDDDDD!!!"

Dan:  *giving me his "you're mean" look*  "Never mind... just watch the show."

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Ad nauseum.



I shudder to think of our retirement... Dan is going to be walking around without a hearing aid, shouting at everyone because he can't hear himself, while I frantically sign at him to shut the hell up.  (Thank goodness I know sign language... I've been trying to teach it to him.  In the 10 years we've been together all he's learned is "I Love You" and "More" but I have high hopes.)