These girls next door never quit!
The laughter comes in waves. The current laughing cycle began at 5:50 a.m. or thereabouts.
Self peers out her apartment window, sees one lighted window in the building next door, and it’s on the side facing hers. She wouldn’t mind so much if, Friday night, the same laugh/screech/laugh cycle hadn’t occurred until the wee hours.
Honestly, there is no room for meaningful discourse in this dialogue. Because there is just one uproarious laugh after another.
See that yellow spot on the carpet? (SCREECHING LAUGHTER)
See what time it is? (SCREECHING LAUGHTER)
Know what my name is? (SCREECHING LAUGHTER)
At first self thought, they’re young and giddy because they’re so excited about being in San Francisco! San Francisco is the Golden Gate, the Dragon’s Gate, the Ferry Building, Golden Gate Park etc. And we’re young! And WE’RE HERE! AND WE’RE SO COOL!
Self is gratified to know that somewhere in the building next door, there are girlfriends who know how to be girlfriends. How to simply LAUGH. It must be such a joyous feeling to have laugh fest with your roommates, at 5:58. To know that, at the drop of a hat, at any hour of the day or night, you will have hilarious interaction with your roomies.
(Self recognizes your individual laughs, girls! She knows the one that goes: gasp/hiccup/HA!/gasp/hiccup; as well as the one that goes HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!)
If self were the mother of teenage daughters, would she have to endure this type of giggly on a daily basis?
BTW, self read somewhere that “giggle” should never be used, in any form of writing. Never. Because, according to advise dispenser, no one but no one giggles.
Self will now hunt for that writing website, so she can tell the author of the article that she lives next door to girls who really know how to giggle. Non-stop. Now, that level of giggle takes commitment.