Sleep Town
It was a beautiful spring morning when my new neighbor moved in. Like any other day, I was outside with my notebook scribbling lyrics across the blank white pages in an attempt at making a song out of nothingness. As an idea actually started to form somewhere in the back of my mind, I was interrupted by the sound of a car screeching to a halt followed by slamming doors and choice words. My new neighbor, Tom, had finally arrived to the house next door. My excitement would soon turn to frustration as I got to know him more personally. I would very soon regret any friendly conversations I had had with him encouraging him to move in.
I had met him a few months prior to that day at the coffeehouse where I work; a comfortable place where all the local cool kids would go every weekend to hang out and listen to the most "in" music. Tom had stumbled up to the bar and ordered a Blatte; the most popular drink in the entire city. As I transferred a shot of dark espresso to the freshly-cleaned blender, I heard him strike up a conversation with a fellow college buddy pertaining to rooming. After being denied a room in his friend's apartment, I realized that there was a vacant house to the right of mine. I handed him his drink and told him of the small but cozy house next to mine and told him to stick around until after my shift was over so we could discuss the house. Why oh why couldn't I have just handed him his drink and sent him on his way?
Deciding that any chance of a somewhat pleasant melody would be near impossible, I thought it would be proper to go welcome him to the neighborhood and ask him if he needed any help. As I quickly trudged across my well-kept lawn, dread spread through me as I finally realized how many boxes he actually had in the back of his jeep. This would more than likely take a lot longer than I had hoped.
"Howdy neighbor!" he shrieked in quite possibly the most high-pitched and most irritating tone of voice I had ever heard escape from the lips of a twenty-four year old guy. "How's it going?"
"Oh, you know; same old same old." I replied weakly. "Need any help?"
"Sure, that would be just dandy!" he answered much to my regret. "Well, I need to get all of these boxes into my house, and then I need to unpack and set everything up. Here, take this!" he said as he handed me a box that I swore contained at least thirty extremely large and ridiculously heavy cement blocks.
When we finally reached the house with boxes in our hands, I was relieved to set the box down on the bright red shaggy carpet. As he left the room to go back for more, I decided to be sneaky and check what he had in the boxes. I cut the flimsy tape with my pocketknife and lifted the cardboard flaps to reveal thirty gray, worn cement blocks. "Awesome." I thought to myself.
About forty-five minutes later, we had hauled all of the jam-packed boxes into the house and he had begun to organize the contents throughout his house in a very odd and unusual way. He had a phone connected in his bathroom, a fish tank in his kitchen, and a blender in his bedroom. I felt it would be best not to ask any questions for fears of more conversation and that irritating shriek of his.
As I walked across my perfect lawn to get back to my peaceful afternoon, my cell phone rang. "Hello?" I answered.
"Hey neighbor!" he responded in his awesome tone of voice. "You forgot your hoodie here!"
"Are you sure? I don't think I had a sweatshirt today, its eighty-five degrees out." I retorted with annoyance.
"I think so. It has a guitar on it and says something like… Fen-deer?"
"Fender." I corrected him through gritted teeth. "That's your sweatshirt Tom."
"Oh! You're absolutely correct! Thank you so much for pointing that out!"
"Whatever." I said getting irritated as I hung up the phone. I had already started to realize how much of a pest he was going to end up being.
The following morning, I woke up to the annoying ringing of my phone. Wonder who that could be…
"HOWDY!" Tom yelled even louder and more obnoxious than the previous afternoon. "Want to go shopping with me this afternoon?"
"Uhmm." I replied drowsily. What for?
"I need to go to the mall today to buy a new outfit for my cousin's wedding next weekend. Wanna go with me?" he questioned excitedly.
At this point, I thought it would be rude to deny him, so I decided to go with him. Moving into a new house is a stressful situation and even Tom didn't deserve to be treated that poorly. I also questioned what room he was in and what phone he was using when he called me. I decided I probably would rather not know.
A few hours later, I left my house and went over to Tom's and jumped into the driver's seat of his rusted pick-up truck. His usual annoying voice filled my ears as he told me exactly how his morning went. I think the filter that controls what people do and don't care about in his mind was clogged. Did he think I honestly cared what he ate for breakfast and how many times he went to the bathroom?
We arrived at the mall a few minutes later and walked through the weathered door of the front entrance. Tom had decided to enter every store in order to catch every sale. What a fun day this would be…
"Ohh! American Eagle!" he gasped as he walked toward the store. He immediately went to the clearance rack to look for a new shirt or whatever he needed. The amount of time he took to look at each rack told me that this was going to be an extremely long day.
"Should I get this in blue or yellow?" he questioned every thirty seconds.
"You're such a girl!" I replied jokingly.
"Whatever!" he said with a chuckle. I really don't think he was picking up on my irritation.
Four hours later, we were half way through the mall and were completely empty handed. After browsing through at least twenty stores, he had bought absolutely nothing! I was beginning to wonder if he really had a cousin's wedding to go to at all…
"Ohh! The food court!" he gasped as though we had just rediscovered Atlantis. "Let's go to MacDonalds!"
"No way! We're going to Taco Bell!" I hollered back. I was not about to break my pact with myself of refusing to eat at any fast food restaurants besides Taco Bell.
"Eww!" he piped. "Taco Bell is disgusting!"
"Whatever!" I replied as I shooed him over in the other direction and walked to my favorite restaurant. I honestly could not deal with an argument over food with Tom. That voice of his just made me want to punch him square in the jaw. Seriously, I kind of get the feeling that if his voice was music, he would go beyond C sharp and B flat and go straight to the high "Q" note in pitch.
After grabbing my tray from the acne-ridden teenager at the counter, I sauntered over to Tom's table where he already polished off half of a Big Mac. "Hey." I mumbled.
"Howdy!" he replied ten times louder than the necessary level.
"How's your food?" I asked not caring but wanting to start a conversation so as to eliminate any chances of an awkward lunch.
"Great!" he replied with a mouthful of disgusting chewed-up French fries.
"Dude, Tom! I hate sea food!" I complained. Silence followed as he pondered the statement and questioned its meaning.
"Oh my god! That's hilarious!" he hollered as loud as a human being probably could ever possibly be. And that's when I heard it. The most obnoxious laugh I had ever heard in my entire life. It sounded a bit like a goat trying to give birth or something of that sort. I then decided that I couldn't take anymore. I had to do something.
"Tom, we have to talk." I whispered.
"What is it?" he answered.
"Well, honestly I think you are the most annoying person I have ever met in my life and I really don't think we should be friends. No offense of course." I said with the nicest tone I could manage.
"Oh." He replied with shock replacing happiness on his face. Before I could further explain the situation, he jumped up from the grimy food court booth and stormed toward the front doors to leave.
"Sorry for wasting your time!" he snapped back noticeably disturbed and disappointed by this sudden dismissal. All I could do was sit there with my tacos and watch him as his brightly-dressed figure left the busy mall bumbling with people.
"At last, Tom has left the building ladies and gentleman!" I whispered with a chuckle to myself; …and then I woke up.