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So yesterday afternoon, I'd just finished my shift and gone to my room (I was on duty that night and had to stay overnight at the motel). I'd just plopped down on the bed and started chatting with Hubby, when I hear a scream!
I mean, it sounded like someone was being murdered! I jumped up and headed to the door. Hubby was right behind me. As I get to the door, I hear another, more blood-curdling scream. Oh my God, I thought. Someone's getting the sh*t beat out of them!
We both fly out the door. Boss Man has also stormed out of his apartment next-door. We're giving each other WTH was that? looks as we run out into the parking lot to try and discern who was screaming...and more importantly, why.
That's when I see CW standing at the back office door. She has an annoyed, exasperated look on her face. "It's the soccer players," she called to us.
Earlier that day, a youth soccer team had checked in. Apparently, one of the teammates had purchased a 25-cent bouncy-ball from the vending machine in the lobby and was bouncing it along our 2nd floor balcony, and every time it got away from him, he started screaming! This wasn't playful, childish screaming...no, it was horrible, terrible, someone-is-dying screaming! The last time I heard screaming like that was about a year ago when there was a domestic dispute in one of our rooms...a dispute that ended up with someone in the hospital and another in jail! And then there was this kid, screaming bloody-murder over a bouncy ball!
"I already asked the parents to quiet him once, but be warned," CW said. "You might have noise complaints tonight."
Ugh. I just want one night at work where I can sleep through all the way!
Alas, though, karma had the final laugh. As I departed in my car to take our mutt to the dog park, something hit my windshield. Something small, green, round, and rubbery. It bounced off my car and into the bushes, where retrieval would be near impossible.
Methinks the parents of the child told him no more bouncy-balls, as all was quiet that night!
I mean, it sounded like someone was being murdered! I jumped up and headed to the door. Hubby was right behind me. As I get to the door, I hear another, more blood-curdling scream. Oh my God, I thought. Someone's getting the sh*t beat out of them!
We both fly out the door. Boss Man has also stormed out of his apartment next-door. We're giving each other WTH was that? looks as we run out into the parking lot to try and discern who was screaming...and more importantly, why.
That's when I see CW standing at the back office door. She has an annoyed, exasperated look on her face. "It's the soccer players," she called to us.
Earlier that day, a youth soccer team had checked in. Apparently, one of the teammates had purchased a 25-cent bouncy-ball from the vending machine in the lobby and was bouncing it along our 2nd floor balcony, and every time it got away from him, he started screaming! This wasn't playful, childish screaming...no, it was horrible, terrible, someone-is-dying screaming! The last time I heard screaming like that was about a year ago when there was a domestic dispute in one of our rooms...a dispute that ended up with someone in the hospital and another in jail! And then there was this kid, screaming bloody-murder over a bouncy ball!
"I already asked the parents to quiet him once, but be warned," CW said. "You might have noise complaints tonight."
Ugh. I just want one night at work where I can sleep through all the way!
Alas, though, karma had the final laugh. As I departed in my car to take our mutt to the dog park, something hit my windshield. Something small, green, round, and rubbery. It bounced off my car and into the bushes, where retrieval would be near impossible.
Methinks the parents of the child told him no more bouncy-balls, as all was quiet that night!
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