Idris wouldn't deny he enjoyed the pleasure of late night tv. The problem was, as usual, finding something that would hold his interest long enough. He'd settled for watching a repeat of a news program he'd missed earlier due to work, then went to bed a little later than usual Tueday evening. It was no surprise that his slumber would be interrupted by an incessant beeping that at first he thought he'd only imagined. But life had a sense of humor, and maybe this was a less than quiet whisper of karmic retribution, just punishment for a later weekday bedtime.
He waited what must have been a good ten minutes but when the beeping didn't stop, Idris began to get annoyed. Tossing, turning, and trying to ignore the sound was having absolutely no effect on his ability to get back to sleep. Getting out of bed with a rather large yawn, Idris headed out of his bedroom to discover that the closer he went to his main hallway and thus the kitchen, the louder the beeping became. It sounded like it was coming from the floor itself--rather, the ceiling of someone else's apartment. And then there was a banging sound added to the mix, which stopped shortly after it had begun. Idris' brows furrowed in tired confusion that overwhelmed the very slim feeling of alarm he felt.
Though he was still drowsy, slowly he recalled that Vanessa lived on the second floor. In fact, she was the only person he knew that lived below him--possibly directly, if life was up for being extra funny tonight. Well, there was only one way to find out, one way to actually get himself the sleep he needed. He figured he might as well head downstairs and see what exactly was going on; if he could help, Idris would be more than willing to do so.
This was how, at a quarter past 3 A.M., Idris found himself outside of an apartment door clearly labeled with the number 205. Stifling a yawn, he raised his hand and knocked in three quick bursts upon the door. There was no doubt now that he was downstairs that he'd reached the apartment with the beeping culprit. He lazily adjusted his sleeping pants while waiting for an answer, glad he had slept in somewhat appropriate sleeping clothes: a white wife-beater and brown loafer slippers completed his early morning outfit.