It's one thing to hear your name bandied about by other people as if you were an amusing topic of conversation. It's something else if you hear your name when the speaker is in the grip of intense emotion. But then again, if your name prompts guffaws and belly laughs and kneeslapping hooting and howling, then its time to either swing into action or quietly step away. Reading this Peter Cherches piece, I'm inclined to think Peter did the right thing.
AN ARGUMENT
I woke up in the middle of the night because the neighbors were arguing. The walls in my building are very thin, plasterboard, sheetrock, whatever you call it. I couldn't make out the words, but there was plenty of passion, plenty of anger, plenty of noise. At 3am, no less. That's just not right. Consider the neighbors, neighbors. Consider me. But amid the incomprehensible cacophony of the argument I could swear I heard my name. Yes, several times. The husband said, "Peter Cherches" in an accusatory fashion. But the wife said my name in a response as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. That was the last straw. I took a sleeping pill.
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