u r g

Können Sie langsamer sprechen?

Dear German Next-Door-Neighbor:

I had a really shit day today. So shit that when I came home tonight the only thing i could think of to make me feel better was taking a long, hot bath. I even used the good bath supplies. You know the ones: the kind with the salts that… fizzle.

As I got into the steaming hot water and waited for those little fizzy salts to evaporate in all the right places, my shit day started to float away. For the first time in three days, I didnt feel like I was in the middle of a panic attack.

That is, until, you decided to have loud, graphic German phone sex.

Let me tell you something: German is not a calming language. Nor is it exactly the language of love. And thanks to the fact that I spent a good amount of my high school experience having Frau Pantesco drill German verbs into my skull, I had a basic understanding of what you were saying. And, well, ew. Never again do I want to hear how you’d like someone to bread your schnitzel.

The fact that you then knocked on my door looking to see if I had a cell phone charger you could borrow just makes me think the universe has it out for me.