Thought you would appreciate a conversation I had with The Boyfriend earlier tonight more than I did.
We keep Skype on at our houses, but we were chatting by phone while I took the dogs out for a walk. I was stopped behind a homeless man behaving erratically, waiting to see which way he went so I could go the opposite way when The Boyfriend says:
“I hear a strange noise…”
He says this while stirring something. So I tell him that I hear him stirring. Unusual, but not strange.
He then tells me, no…that it sounds like it’s coming through skype, coming from my empty apartment.
I’ve got the radio on at home, maybe it’s that?
He’s quiet for a minute. And then says nooooooo, it’s like…it’s like…I don’t know…
I ask him to describe the noise.
He’s quiet for a few more seconds and then asks me whether my bedroom door is closed.
Yes. It’s closed. D-e-s-c-r-i-b-e the noise p-l-e-a-s-e.
…It’s not the radio…
Ok, cool. It’s not the radio. Tell me what it is because you’re scaring me…
“It’s like…I don’t know…movement. Be quiet for a second, let me listen…”
A void of nothingness at the heart of a black hole at midnight after a mass extinction would have generated more noise than I did while listening to The Boyfriend listen to my abandoned apartment.
At this point, I’m right at the building, so I cross the street to try to get a better view through the curtains into the living room. Did I forget to lock the door when I left with the dogs? Did some crazy person break in? Are they nestling deep into the bedroom closet only to come crashing out as I’m going to sleep so they can torture and kill me in some kind of gruesome way? I don’t see anything through the living room window…so then out loud I say
What. Does. It. Sound. Like.
I don’t know, I can’t tell….
Faaaaabulous. Well I’m home now so I guess I’ll go inside now and get murdered by whatever is making a weird but completely indefinable noise that you can’t describe in any words whatsoever. .
I’ll be on the phone, protecting you!
So I hung up on him, just in case he had to listen to me getting mauled. Checked behind the front door, checked the bathroom (INCLUDING the shower, I even lifted the lid on the clothes bin in case it was a tiny assassin), checked the closets, the kitchen, the bedroom, the bedroom closet and then met up with The Boyfriend on Skype in the bedroom. And THEN, THEN after all of that anxiety, after the standing outside in the freezing cold longer than absolutely necessary hoping to catch a movement of anything inside, after the accelerated heart rate, after listening breathlessly while Michele listened, THEN he says:
You know what it sounded like? It sounded like a ventilation fan or something.
A fucking ventilation fan. Something the conversation definitely should have begun with rather than ended with.