Dave is having relationships issues. Dave has a number of issues, as I have observed over the past couple of weeks, his haircut, fashion sense, taste in music, depth of vocabulary and concern for his neighbours’ sleep patterns head, what I am confident is an extensive list, however his relationship was his chief concern this past weekend.
As Dave has told me, well, I should clarify that, as he told his girlfriend, which I overheard due to the volume of his telling her, Dave does not appreciate it when she is late for dinner.
Dave also has communication issues, which, in my humble opinion, are exacerbating his relationship issues. When Dave tells his girlfriend, ‘You fuckin’ bitch, I hate it when you’re late, you said you would be here an hour ago, what the fuck, fuck you!’ it should come as no surprise to Dave that the response is, ‘Fuck you, you asshole, you’re a fuckin’ bastard!’ Perhaps if Dave tried a different approach and expressed his displeasure in a gentler way, his girlfriend may then be able to explain why it is that she is late and a conflict could be avoided. However, I am also learning that Dave’s girlfriend has a similarly substantial list of issues, with communication also high on the list.
I don’t know the name of Dave’s girlfriend as I have only ever heard Dave address her using pet names, Dumb Bitch, Fuckin’ Bitch or You Slut, if Dave is feeling particularly romantic he employs all three, You Fuckin’ Dumb Bitch Slut.
After a period of quiet, in which I can only assume Dave and his girlfriend were consuming the gourmet delights he had spent hours preparing, or phoned for, given the amount of pizza boxes which appeared on their doorstep the following morning, the pair exited their apartment to attend a pre-planned social activity of which the details are unknown to me. Once again, their poor communication skills ignited a conflict. Having apparently unsatisfactorily addressed Dave’s hurt feelings at her tardiness, he made a offhand and in my opinion unnecessary comment as they were leaving, that they should make haste or rather, ‘Fuckin’ move it cause you made us fuckin’ late.’ Unsurprisingly Dave’s girlfriend took umbrage and replied, ‘Fuck you, you asshole, I’m not fuckin’ goin’ anymore!’ Dave expressed his satisfaction at her change of mind and stated his intention to attend the soirée alone, ‘Fuckin’ fine then, fuck off, I’m goin’ on me own!’
Upon returning from the social outing, Dave decided it would be best if his girlfriend found alternative accommodation for the evening. I can only assume the sound of glass smashing, shortly after he re-entered the apartment, was his girlfriend dropping her wine glass in shock, when he communicated, no doubt poorly, his decision. Further sounds indicated that Dave was possibly having trouble locating the broom, with which to tidy the mess. ‘Fuckin’ hit me then, go on, fuckin’ hit me!’ was an unusual request from his girlfriend at the time, though perhaps the combination of a humid evening and open window had seen a mosquito enter their apartment and land on her body in a place she could not reach. In any case, once the matter of her sleeping arrangements was resolved, Dave assisted his girlfriend to remove her bags from the apartment, ‘Get the fuck out of me house you fuckin’ bitch, go on, fuck off!’ Dave then escorted her down the staircase, up the driveway and onto the street, wishing her a safe evening and pleasant sleep, ‘Go on, fuck off you bitch!’
Dave returned to his apartment, where after an exhaustive evening he made no further sounds. The following morning Dave employed the healing technique of musical therapy, to release his ill feelings towards the preceding evening events.