You guys are hilarious. I just registered and thought I'd share this with you. Right after I got out of college, I rented an apartment in a large complex. The place built kind of cheaply and you could actually hear the people next door and upstairs from you talking in their apartments. One night I was just about to fall asleep when I heard the bed springs squeaking in the unit just upstairs from mine. I figured some amorous couple must have been knocking one off before bed. So I thought it would be funny if I initiated a little coitus interruptus. I went out to the mailboxes and looked up the guy's name, then got his number from directory assistance. I called the number and could hear the phone ringing in his bedroom. He answered, sounding a little annoyed and slightly out of breath. I hung up. After thinking about it, I remembered that the guy upstairs was this kind of strange, geeky guy, and realized that he wasn't having sex with a girl up there, but rather most likely with himself. A little while later I was just about to fall asleep again when I heard the bed springs squeaking once more. So I waited about 30 seconds, called again and hung up.
He and I must have had the same TV habits back then because the next night right after I got in bed I heard the bed springs right on schedule, but this time it was much quieter. After doing some quick calculations in my head, I estimated the time for him to reach his goal by taking my own masturbatory experiences and adjusting it for his obvious excessive horniness, and filtered the data again taking his geekiness into effect. I came up with 2 minutes as the ultimate time to wait before I made the call. Again, I heard the phone ring. This time he didn't pick it up right away, but waited for the 4th ring or so. When he picked it up I said in a low voice, "What the fk are you doing?" There was a long pause and rather sheepishly he said, "Who is this?" I said "It's Ed." (Not my name) He said, Ed who? I said, Ed Vann (best I could come up with on short notice) He said, "Do I know you?" I said "Is this Paul?" "No you've got the wrong number," he replied. I apologized and hung up. For the next several months, every time I'd hear the guys bed springs squeak, I'd call him and hang up. I'd always wondered if he thought god was trying to send him a message that masturbation was wrong or something. He must have figured he'd atone for it at confession though, because his habits never changed. (Bless me father for I have sinned. I have masturbated 5,695 times in the past month.)
