So this day went straight to the dogs. Not one useful accomplishment. The night before I only slept for 2 hours so I had planned for an early night, and so went to bed at 10 PM. Was however awoken by roaring laughter and and hysterical screaming 45 minutes later, outside my bedroom door, inter-punctuated by the sound of someone sounding like he was coughing up his lunges.
”You serious maaaan?? You are coughin' yourself to death and now want to smoke more??"
"Hell, yeah, man! Let's light it up!"
Later on, two Arnold Schwartznegger's, one with a high-pitched voice and another with a base vibrato, was battling it out, screaming orders to "Get ze hell out of hiere!" and "This ting is gaaana blooow!!". Accompanied by applause, shouts and whistles and someone sounding like a Formula 1 Car. The unbelievable ruckus continued until about 1 AM and by then I was exhausted, pissed off and doomed to another night of insomnia. At about 5 AM I got up to have something to eat with the hope tha a "night" snack might make me able to fall asleep. There was only one of my Pitas left. I opened the fridge. Like I suspected, my 1 kg bag of kosher sausages was badly decimated. Someone's had munchies. Meh. I ate my pita wiht the remaining hummus and managed to sleep for 2 hours....
After one hour in Ulpan I had to give up, I couldn't understand what anyone was saying, so I dropped my bewildered drill intructress a note (in Hebrew) and went home and finally fell asleep. Later on I got hold of some of the party animals and was told the appalling and fascinating story of how legendary weed-heads Cheech and Chong* had showed up in the apartment uninvited, and forced those present to inhale a full two bongs of marijuana and making them do all kinds of crazy imitations, including one of a Ferrari Testarossa in full speed reverse on a gravel road. After which they ransacked the fridge and disappeared, leaving the horrified and perfectly innocent and drugged out victims of their raid to fend for themselves. These victims managed however, after a while, to heroically get their composure and head for their respective apartments for some well deserved sleep. And as we already know, I was left to wrestle the sheets for the remainder of the night.
To quote Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon movies: "I'm too old for this shit".
*Cheech and Chong's real names Pedro and Man have been left out to protect the innocent.
”You serious maaaan?? You are coughin' yourself to death and now want to smoke more??"
"Hell, yeah, man! Let's light it up!"
Later on, two Arnold Schwartznegger's, one with a high-pitched voice and another with a base vibrato, was battling it out, screaming orders to "Get ze hell out of hiere!" and "This ting is gaaana blooow!!". Accompanied by applause, shouts and whistles and someone sounding like a Formula 1 Car. The unbelievable ruckus continued until about 1 AM and by then I was exhausted, pissed off and doomed to another night of insomnia. At about 5 AM I got up to have something to eat with the hope tha a "night" snack might make me able to fall asleep. There was only one of my Pitas left. I opened the fridge. Like I suspected, my 1 kg bag of kosher sausages was badly decimated. Someone's had munchies. Meh. I ate my pita wiht the remaining hummus and managed to sleep for 2 hours....
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| Protagonists of a less likely explanation... |
To quote Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon movies: "I'm too old for this shit".
*Cheech and Chong's real names Pedro and Man have been left out to protect the innocent.
OMG ( as they say ), that's a wonderful piece on a dreadful night! I'm looking forward to your "Selected Short Stories" book, that will eventually emerge. For now I'll follow you here :-)
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