My Amorous Neighbors

The other night I thought someone was being raped in the apartment next door. To be sure, before I called the police, I pressed my ear to the wall.

I finally concluded, from the tone of the word "baby" that peppered the woman's moaning, that it wasn't rape. At first I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to file a police report or be called to the witness stand, but then I began to feel a little put-on. Was this for real? Who moans like that? I mean really! Was she winning the lottery with each staccato slam of the headboard against the wall? Did each shriek mark the solution of some great human mystery? Was the sex really that good? Is sex ever really that good? Or was she just putting on a show?

The moaning was steady over the course of a half-hour period from 1:30AM to 2AM. From the man, there were some soft guttural growls.

What's funny is that I never heard any evidence of the neighbors' existence until that robust session. And there have been lots more since, always with the same vigor and enthusiasm. Yesterday's session was held in the bathtub -- I could hear them sliding around like a couple of seals. I've considered that she may be a "working girl," which would account for the drama and the odd times (sex at 4PM on a Monday?).

Until the answer is revealed (if it ever is), me and my cats (who seem equally intrigued) will remain morbidly curious.