A Knock Knock Joke

I think living in New Mexico was the first time I ever started to appreciate solitude. Boredom gets to me pretty bad, and I get Cabin Fever really quick, so I usually want to be out doing something and with people as much as possible, and in high school that was a pronounced need. I think other people would still say I'm pretty social, but I'm certainly less than I used to be. I'm sure there are a number of factors, and being in a relationship really mellowed that need at the time, but the first time I can remember really looking forward to being alone was one night in my least favorite state of the union.

I was living in a house in Taos, and there were always between 5 to 7 of us living there at a time. I shared a room (which was really a converted garage, and looked like it) with my friend Wolfy. To say I wasn't particularly close with most of my housemates would be an understatement, to document the list of illegal activity that operated out of or around the people in that house would read like a court indictment, and to say that I spent my 8 months in New Mexico in anything other than a consistent state of seething anger and frustration would be like saying that foreign nations are really appreciative of current US foreign policy. So I'd eat out a lot, often by myself and with a book, and I'm pretty sure that started a terrible habit that lasts to this day.

So when I finally got the house to myself, even for a few hours, it was an amazing and rare moment of serene pleasure. And one night the stars aligned and I was blissfully alone at last. Wolfy and Rocky had gone off to do something they weren't supposed to at Travis' (our old friend who you may remember from a previous post, famous for busting his arm doing drunken backflips trying fuck a fourteen year old,) and I don't remember who else lived with us at the time but they were all gone.

It was wonderful.

I put on some music, tucked under the covers, and pulled out some JLA. Heaven.
Now the entire front wall of our room was actually a giant glass window with a sliding door, which would cause some problems later. But you could easily see entirely inside or out.
I'm laying there reading about Martian Manhunter's change into the Fernus the Burning when I hear -

*knock*knock*knock*knock*

I figure Wolf and Rock have come back, but I don't see anyone, so I check the front door.
Nothing.

Okay, stranger things haver happened. I'm all tucked away again when I hear -
*knock*knock*knock*knock*

Now I'm sure they're just fucking with me cause they know I'm stoked to have some time to myself. So I call out that this isn't funny, and check the front door - no one's there.

I tuck myself in again, and start to relax when louder and more ferocious than either time before
*knock*knock*knock*knock**knock*knock*knock*knock*

Now I am pissed. I run out of the house into our gravel driveway screaming about what assholes they are when I finally notice that the knocking is coming from our upstairs window.
Along with the sound of a high pitched girl moaning in rapid succesion
*oh*oh*oh*oh*OH*OH*OH*OH*OH-OH!
and then a man's voice, deep and gutteral just screams out
*YEAH!*
in the kind of manner where you can just imagine a clenched fist being pumped into the air.

Trurns out John and Tracy were home.

I ran back to my room, hid under the covers, and tried to block the sound of a man screaming "Yeah!" to his climaxing orgasm out of my mind with obviously failed results.

Post script - I told this story to a set of aquaintances who had just recently gotten married. When I got to the end the girl's eyes went wide and she just pointed and nodded at her now husband.
So I guess John isn't alone in his battle cry.