Flashback: Come and Get Your Love

I exist within the walls of a sitcom sometimes, except that issues are not resolved in 30 minutes. There are funny moments. We all have a good laugh. And there are a memorable cast of characters. Every now and again, there is a special guest star that adds some excitement to the show.

Here is a nomination for best guest star:

I lived alone right out of school in this quaint little 1-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t a traditional apartment building that you can find in every city. It was shaped kind of like a really huge house. It had three separate entrances, one for each set of apartments. No two apartments were the same. The entrances were locked and lead to nice, carpeted stairways.

You're Abe Froman? The Sausage <i>King</i> of Chicago?

You're Abe Froman? The Sausage King of Chicago?

Every so often, I would see my downstairs neighbor. He seemed nice enough, I guess, though he reminded me of the maitre d’ in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. He had sweptback, blondish hair and sported a disturbingly thin mustache. His appearance kind of bugged me, and I thought there was something kind of weird about him, but I tried not to judge.

One day I was sitting at home and I heard a little bit of music thunk coming from downstairs. Thunk, thunk, thunk. The bass was evident, but I didn’t really care because, hey, it’s not like I am trying to sleep. It wasn’t unbearably loud. Then I heard the the singer, only not. It’s not the singer…. It’s a singer…. It’s a very bad “singer.” It’s a very bad singer wailing to Come and Get Your Love by Real McCoy.


Is this for real? This has to be a joke. Is he actually trying to rap?! I listened to him in the same way you would stare at a car accident. I couldn’t help it. I had to. And quite frankly, I wanted a good story to tell all of my friends, so I didn’t stop him. And this turned out to be a mistake. A huge mistake. Apparently my weird, thinly-mustache neighbor liked to bring down the house on a regular basis. Every few days, he wailed like a dying cat to the same song! On top of that, every few nights, Karaoke Man liked to sing until 2am. I swear he must have thought my stomping on the floor added to the bass coming from his speakers.

He had special performances, too. Oh, yes, friends. One night I was treated to You are Not Alone by Michael Jackson. Then there was Mariah Carey night. Woo. What a horrific display that was.

The biggest performance of all was the Star Spangled Banner on Independence Day. He sang that one like Whitney Houston at the Super Bowl, except not since he was out of tune and forgot some of the words, though it is quite possible that he was wearing a white track suit and a headband.


3 Responses to “Flashback: Come and Get Your Love”

  1. curlywurlygurly Says:

    lol! we do think alike. i feel bad that you had to suffer through the karaoke cabaret. i avoid mariah and whitney because i know i just don’t have the range. hee hee.

    consider yourself lucky that you didn’t live above MY old neighbor. we think he was making pornos downstairs. talk about horrifying noises!!

  2. megan Says:

    That sounds like my next door downstairs neighbor, who looks like Jesse Ventura and owns a very mean dingo, who a few times a week cranks up such hard-rockin’ hits as Gentle Ben and Hopelessly Devoted to You.

  3. that girl Says:

    Wacky and tacky neighbors make the best stories!

    Pornos? Really?

    LOL @ Gentle Ben.

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