War of the Asian Girls

"I hate you."

"You've changed."

These were words actually spoken on Kathryn and my second anniversary. Unfortunately for all the ladies out there (I'm still taken), they weren't spoken by us, but by our upstairs neighbors.

In April, two (or three girls) moved in to the flat above us. Before, we never heard a sound from the inhabitant of the flat, but now we hear every footstep and every conversation. They are stompers and yellers and they vacuum a lot. Oh yeah, they fight.

On these long summer evenings we often find ourselves sitting next to our open window trying to decipher exactly what's going. They are both (all three?) Asian, but they fight in English with heavy accents. We can only pick out words: boyfriend, room, TV. I'm fairly sure its a combination of all three of these as well as the mere presence of the other(s) that is leading to their little brouhahas, but for all I now it could be the carpet.

I guess it's part of living in a city, this feeling that I am constantly in the middle of someone else's life, and that someone else is a complete stranger. I mean these folks don't care that everyone on the street can hear their fight. Don't get me wrong, now, I'm not saying that I'm not entertained. Hot summer night, evening cocktail, Asian girls fighting . . . I could probably sell tickets. Hell, I have one neighbor that thinks they are filming porn for the internet.

However, things may be changing soon. The other evening they really went at it. They yelled. Feet stomped. Doors slammed (and not like people going through them but over and over as a noise maker), and silverwear was even thrown. It was the type of fight that you enjoy the devil out of, but are always wary that at any moment you will be put upon to call the police. The police ruin evening cocktails with Asian girls fighting.

They finally stopped. The next morning we heard through the ceiling, words that denote a new understanding and a new dynamic to confrontation. Cold War politics have taken hold upstairs, and we the audio voyeurs can only wait for the nuclear weapons. We heard them say, very cool, to each other:

"I hate you."

"You've changed."