No one knows what goes on behind closed doors
Sleepless in Spotswood writes:
Dear Westie, I don’t know about you, but when I was a young lass the thought of bringing ‘guests’ home to shag was unthinkable. I could barely acknowledge that I had a boyfriend without risking banishment to the local nunnery. As modern parents, my partner and I have been determined to be more relaxed with our son (22 years). However, he is testing our progressive attitudes to the limit. He is on these apps called Hinge and Tinder and is bringing home a different ‘friend’ EVERY night. And let me tell you, they are very close friends. Even though our bedrooms are at opposite ends of the house, and even though all doors between are firmly closed, the noise that emanates from his room is driving us crazy. We don’t want to curb his enthusiasm, but how can we gently … well … curb his enthusiasm?
Ooh la la SIS! “How saucy”, as the French would say. But in French. So, it’d be different, but you get what I mean. They’d probably say something like “Comme c’est ose!” which actually means “how daring”, which is not quite the same. But that’s translation for you. It’s not an exact science – messages, meanings and intentions can be misconstrued. And I think that’s what’s happening here (nice segue, if I say so myself – bon mots monsieur!). One woman’s relaxed attitude to her offspring and his enjoyment of the odd horizontal tango, is another man’s (son’s in this case) invitation to a 24/7 dance marathon.
So that’s the problem, but what about a solution?
As far as I see it you have three choices. One, you cover his bedroom door in egg cartons as a subtle hint about noise insulation. Two, when you’re quite sure they’ve finished dancing (if you get my drift) you and your partner burst in holding up cards, a la ye olde Olympic Diving judges, scoring the performance out of 10. Or, thirdly, you and your monsieur fight fire with fire and get up to a little Dirty Dancing of your own in the corridor outside your son’s room, while loudly singing “I’ve had the time of my life, and I’ve never felt this way before” (as per the movie soundtrack) in perfect, but very throaty, two-part harmony. If that doesn’t work, you might have to sit junior down and have a little talk about the birds and the bees and the inadequacies of modern domestic soundproofing.
From last edition
In last month’s Dear Westie, we dealt with the issue of people not sharing the burden of mowing the conjoined nature strips so many of us share. Victor Mower of St Albans, unimpressed by our reader’s plight, urged him to “Get off the Grass!” Jim Smowing of Altona Meadows urged caution, recommending our reader “not take the lawn into his own hands” in regard to this dispute. We at The Westsider, as responsible members of Melbourne’s media community, also eschew violence and conflict in situations such as this in favour of more passive aggressive solutions; in this instance we recommend our reader only mow his neighbour’s section of the nature strip, just to **** with his head.
If anything in this column has raised issues for you, or if there’s anything you’d like to get off your chest, write to Dear Westie via editor@thewestsider.com.au
