Schadenfreude

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Who knew that the true definition of schadenfreude was lying in bed listening to a complete stranger throwing up in the next-door hotel room? The room was alive with the sound of retching. Which is not something I would normally imagine would give me pleasure but tonight it did. They say you choose your friends and not your family, they should add to that that you don’t choose fellow hotel guests either.

My heart had sunk  earlier in the day when I saw the busload of teenage handball players come into the hotel just as I was checking in. And it hit rock bottom when the receptionist told me the tournament ended today and they were all heading home tomorrow. That could only mean one thing, that tonight they would be partying and I wouldn’t be sleeping. 

But I was wrong, well initially as I was wrong. There was no noise, no party. I climbed wearily into bed at about 11.30 and was flat out by midnight. Flat out by midnight, wide-awake at three - yelled conversations have a habit of disturbing sleep. It sounded like the whole team were outside my door and at the other end of the corridor simultaneously. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, I hated situations like this – there are no simple solutions. If I went out there and told them off, I would look a fool. I could bang on my door to let them know they were disturbing me, but that would be puerile, passive aggression. Complaining to reception would probably achieve little, so my best hope was that the hurricane would blow itself out and I’d be able to get back to sleep.

But if anything the hurricane seemed to gather force for a little while; shouts got louder, laughs heartier and language more industrial.

Meanwhile I was lying in bed plotting my revenge. My alarm was set for 7.20 and I would let it ring and ring at full volume before putting the TV on also at full volume and sing in the shower. There would be some hungover heads in the morning praying  for me tone it down like I was praying for them to do that now. Petty thoughts I know, but soothing at this time of crisis.

Eventually the hurricane did indeed blow itself out leaving a perfect silence for me to fall back to sleep in.

This time my sleep only lasted about 20 minutes before another sound roused me. The sound of my neighbour talking into the great white telephone. Not a pretty sound, and the groans and moans and sobs weren’t pretty either but it made me smile, knowing that the person who had caused my misery was now suffering themselves.