That’s using your schmekl

Right now we are subletting an apartment from a man named Michael.  We share a house; we live on the first floor and Michael lives above us.  Michael’s mother used to live where we live, but she passed away a few months ago, creating the vacancy.

Michael simply defies description.  Picture a caricature of the dweebiest, creepiest, smallest, weirdest, introverted, middle-aged Jewish man you can think of, and you probably have a fair image of Michael.  Except Michael has a full head of hair.  And is really into jazz.

Honestly I don’t think Michael looks especially Jewish, but he sounds Jewish.  Anytime I talk to him (which I try to avoid as much as possible, given the weird and creepy factors) I keep waiting for him to tell me about the shpilkes in his geneckteckessoink.  

But all that is really beside the point.  The man has loud orgasms.  Often.  In all his creepy weirdness he has managed to be dating a rather attractive Hispanic woman, which were his mother still alive, she would probably think it was completely meshugeh and she would most certainly think it was a shande.  I assume I’m mostly hearing them shtuping but I also assume at least occasionally he’s operating by himself.  Talk about adding to the creepy factor all around.

Shudder.

But seriously, we’re operating on the famine end of things around here.  It’s rough to know, first-hand, that Michael is having a feast.

Oy vey!

(Yes, BeThisWay, I did have to look up how to spell schmekl, and a couple other words.  I promise I actually knew all the words though!!  I’m sure you’ll tell me how good or bad my usage is.  🙂 )

(Also, I swear this isn’t meant to be pandering to the sex tag clickers.  I just needed to vent!!) 

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