Poor Girl

For some reason, I was thinking today about an apartment I had in Jackson. I had been separated from the wife for about a year and had moved into an apartment building that had very thin walls. Of course I was awakened one night by the sound of a couple in the place behind mine getting frisky. Apparently, their bed was pushed up against the common wall shared with my space. It started with a thump, then another, then began the rhythmic noise that announces a project in full swing. She was enjoying herself, I think. At least that's what it sounded like.

At first I was thinking, "good for you bro, I'm glad somebody is dipping his wick." This went on for a good bit, with me mentally cheering him on to victory. After about thirty minutes of the same thump, thump and the same moans and groans, I began to feel bad for the girl. Now, instead of thinking "hit it man!" I was saying to myself, "Cut the girl some slack! Put the horse back in the barn cowboy."

I have no idea why this particular memory is on my mind.