Bouncing things annoy me

When I was in undergraduate school, I lived across the hall from two lovely chaps -- Paul and Scott. During the course of our freshman year, Paul got weirder, Scott came out, and my roommate, Jenel, and I tried desperately to stay out of their room.

Because it smelled bad.

The chaps never did their laundry, so it mildewed and molded and stunk to high heaven. I remember standing in the middle of their room (they weren't there -- I broke in somehow) with a bottle of Lysol and spraying (the whole thing) in an attempt to cleanse the hallway of the scent.

Um, gross.

Scott and Paul were generally great neighbors. They were kind, funny, and were willing to sit around and play music / talk about art with me. They shared candy. I liked them.

Most of the time.

When he was stressed, Scott used to stand in the hallway between our room and his in his boxers and juggle pins.

This often happened during mid-terms. At night. When procrastination could no longer be a friend. You know the time...

So Scott juggled. He wasn't very good.

And he dropped the pins...

All

of

the

fucking

time.

It drove me insane, especially at 3 in the morning -- thud, thud, thud -- while writing a paper of your own.

I blame the pin drops as the source of my current sensitivity to bouncing things. And hearing bouncing things.

I'm currently annoyed out of my gourd by the kids in my 'hood bouncing basketballs at seemingly all times of the day and night.

They remind me too much of the pins.

Apparently, I am a grumpy curmudgeon. Sad. I thought I'd be there about 40 years from now...