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Old 05-19-2001, 07:22 PM
Coldfire Coldfire is offline
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Join Date: Jul 1999
Location: Near Amsterdam, NL
Posts: 15,981
Quote:
Originally posted by DRY
Quote:
Originally posted by Coldfire
I do have a great story involving my housemate, and a military bed placed too closely to the heat radiator. Maybe I'll tell it tomorrow.
Is this the one where the guy strangles the duck?

Anyway, I can't wait to hear it.
Not exactly, no.

Alright, here it goes.
When I was in university in Maastricht (the very south of the Netherlands), I shared a house with 5 other people. It was a pre-war family house, basically. We all had our rooms, and we shared the ground floor - kitchen, big living room, bathroom and all that.
One day, I arrived home at about three in the afternoon. I tossed my bag on to the couch, and sat down reading the morning paper - I had to be at the U early in the morning, forcing me to postpone that daily ritual. The only one home appeared to be my housemate "Jeroen" ('cause that's his name ), from whose room I could hear the stereo at considerable volume.
After reading for about five minutes, I heard someone parking their bike out front, and ringing the doorbell. With a sigh, I put down the paper and get up - almost.
In Jeroens room, the stereo goes off, and a quick series of steps down the stairs told me I could sit back down again.
Lots of smooching and kissing sounds in the hall further explained that the visitor was Jeroens girlfriend-at-the-time. We'll call her Agnes.
Two pair of feet dashed up the stairs, and after the slam of the door, sounds of people tossing off clothes whilst moaning and a-grunting could be heard.

Now, here's the thing. Jeroen had this old military style steel bed, that had its head end positioned some 10 centimeters away from the heating radiator in his room. We all know that steel heat pipes are a great sound conductor.

Yup, I was treated to a semi-rythmic metallic CLANG! CLANG! CLLLLLANG!! CLA-CLA-CLA-CLAAAAANG!!!! concerto, with lovely vocal support to boot. Both the front and back radiators made sure I got a perfect stereo reception. This went on for the proverbial ten minutes (what can I say, I always seemed to be able to hang on to my girlfriends longer than Jeroen ). Then, sounds of dressing up and saying goodbye could be heard. Two pair of feet down the stairs, a quick kiss goodbye, and the slamming front door.

Ten seconds later, Jeroen struts into the room, barefoot, jeans on but unbuttoned, shirt likewise. He's sporting his trade mark victory shit-eating grin.

Until he tilts his head to the right, only to see me on the couch, peering out from over the newspaper, returning the courtesy with an equally impressive EVIL grin.

Three seconds of dead silence.

Then, the historical words: "JUST WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET HOME, DAMMIT??"

Still worth a good laugh, 7 years later.