Having disturbed my dinner party one evening because she didn't like the fact that four middle-aged women were having an in-depth discussion on Spinoza's Tractatus Theologico-Politicus (I think that's what we were talking about - memory's a bit hazy from this distance, but frankly, it seems unlikely to have been anything else), and this being a few days after she and Gormless had awoken me in the middle of the night with their screechingly loud alien friends on celluloid (that's a planet close to Uranus - or close to theirs, at any rate), everyday communication between us has been a little strained.
Cartesian Logic being somewhat remote from the everyday life of this self-absorbed, unreconstructed pair, it has befallen me to educate them in the rules of how to live amongst others in society.
Thus, you can imagine the relish with which I greeted the latest opportunity to school them further with The NiceEtoile Course on How Not To Piss Off Your Menopausal Neighbours To A Dangerously High Degree In The Middle Of The Night. (Free call to the emergency services with every subscription).
As is common with this couple's particular educational void, the full extent of the gaps in their knowledge became apparent once more at 3.30am one night last week. There had been torrential rain for some hours, and the lovely pair had swung back through the branches to their apartment, having doubtless enjoyed an elongated tea party with their simian friends elsewhere. Naturally, they were soaked through from the heavy precipitation, and Monkey Woman began to run a bath. I know it was her because she then lay in it and SHOUTED affectionate terms of endearment to her beloved, WHO WAS IN A DIFFERENT ROOM AT THE OPPOSITE END OF THEIR ABODE. CHERIE.
Having splished sploshed for a while with enough force to sink the Titanic (Every night in my dreams, I hear you, I HEAR YOU!!!) she then emerged from her ablutions and dropped something heavy onto the floor (it would be unusual for that part of her anatomy to have succumbed to gravitational pull so early on in her young life, so I think it must have been something else, but a good thought nevertheless! You're obviously getting the hang of this). At the same time as whatever it was hit the carpetless undergrowth, a loud swearword emerged from her lips.
Well, I thought in typically resigned fashion (well, perhaps not typically, or indeed resigned, but apart from that...), at least they'll now get to bed, spend some time monkeying around (ooh ahh eee ahh ooh) and then get some sleep.
Little did I realize that someone had taught them a new chimpy trick at their tea party, and on now went the washing machine, followed by the tumble dryer. For two hours. Not a continuous sound, but 8 seconds of low tumble hum, followed by 8 seconds of silence. (Zzz...) Followed by 8 seconds of low tumble hum, followed by 8 seconds of silence. (Zzz...) Followed by....you get the idea.
And so it became apparent that whilst they may not have much of a liking for Spinoza, they (and I, by the morning) were more than a little acquainted with Spindryer.
An essay in good citizenship was duly attached to their front door. (This is the written part of the NiceEtoile course - I'm nothing if not thorough).
Oh, and in case anyone's wondering, the monkeying around part of the evening's proceedings seemed to be much shorter than usual...perhaps I should also have a word with him about his technique...