Loser's Guide to Life
Years ago I was living next to some people who apparently didn't like my playing the piano of an evening. If I so much as broached a quiet prelude or bagatelle, there would be an enraged loud thudding on the wall, as if to say: Have you no couth, man? It's prime time!
I would sit there angrily not playing the piano, hoping, no, demanding that my silence would plague them with shame for the remainder of the evening. I could feel the silence seeping through the wall, spoiling the punchlines of their retarded TV comedy. Where before they may have had to strain to hear it, now they had the unmuffled faux humour echoing loudly in all its insipidity. I imagined them sitting there, unable to meet each other's gaze and pretending to laugh at this poor entertainment, exacted at such inhuman cost!
Felt kinda bad about it later.