My Promiscuous Neighbor

"Sweetie, how's the house Mommy found for you? Do you like it?"

After graduating from university, my mom had bought me a house to live in.

The living room was split into two levels, which I really liked, but the wall was paper thin.

I could hear my neighbor's nighttime activities as clearly as if they were coming from my own TV.

I frequently worked late into the night trying to keep up with my busy job. By the time I got home, I was already exhausted. The last thing I needed was more disturbance.

Noise was something I couldn't bear.

"Open up. I'm here to check the meter."

I knocked on his door while using a voice modifier app on my phone to sound like a middle-aged man.

Hearing him come to answer, I fled.

There was a brief moment of quiet, but it didn't last long until the noises began once more.

Perhaps he was a satyriasis...

Noise pollution was a bugbear of mine. After a hard day at work, home was supposed to be my sanctuary from stress—my quiet place.

"Gasman, open up."

I tried his door again, hoping that this time it would have a lasting effect.

He opened the door immediately, clearly annoyed.

Peering out through the peephole in my door, I finally had the chance to take in this maniac who was keeping me awake with my own eyes.

He was dressed far more formally than I was expecting. Perhaps making the right impression when opening the front door was important to him ...

He had an elegant demeanor and gold-rimmed glasses.

As soon as he closed the door, the noises began again.

He obviously wasted no time picking up where he left off.

Judging by the sounds, he must have been quite skilled.

I rarely saw him leave his house.

Maybe I should quit my job and set up a stall on his doorstep selling "protection", I thought.

I doubt I'd need any other customers.

I couldn't help but admire this satyriasis. Most people might feel embarrassed by having their neighbor turn up in the night to ask them to quiet down, but he didn't let it stop him one bit.

My only remaining option was to call my mom and vent.

"The house is fine Mommy, but my neighbor's a satyriasis."

There was confused silence from the other end of the line. "Your neighbor's a what, sweetie?"

"He's like a rabbit. I can hear him going at it from dusk till dawn. My nerves are shredded. If you don't believe me, come listen for yourself."

I made sure to sound despondent. In truth, I'd been wanting to redecorate for a while and this seemed like the perfect excuse.

My mom's voice was full of worry. "I saw him a few times when I was buying the house. I would never have guessed he was a sex fiend. Maybe you should reconsider that nice man Steven tried to set you up with. He seems like a good match and if all goes well you can move in with him."

My mom and dad were divorced but after remarrying, my mom wouldn't stop going on about the wonders of marriage.

She seemed to have conveniently forgotten all the violence she suffered at the hands of my biological father.

Although even I had to admit, she'd done a good job choosing my stepdad.

"No thanks. As far as I'm concerned, there aren't any good men on this planet."

I could hear Steven, my stepdad, choke down a cough nearby.

Maybe I paid too much attention to social media, but I'd read enough horror stories, coupled with my own experiences, to put me off men for life.

"Then you should try soundproofing the house. Or I could come around and have a word with him about it?"

She sounded so sincere.

"Mommy, you can't just knock on his door and 'have a word with him' about his noisy sex life. I think you need to have the house redecorated."

What was she planning on doing? Turning up on his doorstep and telling him to practice abstinence?

Or maybe she was just going to tell him to keep it down?