you idiot

"Matt, someone's having sex upstairs" Craig professed in a whispered yell upon my return from the bathroom.  "What?"  "Someone's having sex upstairs, I heard it" he continued, pointing to the cieling, like direction was the confusing part of the conversation for me.  "You mean on the roof?" I asked.  He continued to point, like I just didn't get it.  Nikki sat up, rephrasing my question, "Craig, how many floors does this building have, what floor are we on?"  The answer to both is 2.  He looked back, then returned to staring at me with those blank, retarded eyes, pointing at a cieling tile the whole time.  After about forty minutes of processing the situation, he finally blinked and said that "it sounded like it was coming from upstairs."  Then I heard the creaking of John Mayer and the acoustic tunes of a cheap bunkbed coming through the wall from next door.  He asserted "someone's having really loud sex on the roof."  At least he understood by now that this was not the actual case.  Hopefully.  .  Craig immediately declared "he lost it," snickering, "someone just lost it."  The John Mayer is still playing, or whoever the hell it is, maybe it's that new Curtis Mayfield tape, bass-heavy and deadened by the cardboard walls that I have to hear it through.  A soothing soundtrack to my dreamy night at JWU.