In law school, I lived on the top floor of a small apartment building. It was a great apartment, especially because most of my neighbors were quiet medical students.
At first, the person who lived right below me was a female med student. I never heard her except on Saturday afternoons. She would clean with the music cranked up, and she would sing along at the top of her lungs. She was not a great singer, but I liked her taste in music, and the singing didn't bother me.
Before my last year of law school, the loud singer moved out, and a male med student moved in. I occasionally saw him when we were both getting the mail at the same time, but that was the only way I even knew someone was living in the apartment. Then second semester, I got a new schedule and didn't have class until 10:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. One Tuesday morning, I woke at about 9 am to the sounds of really loud sex. There was moaning, there was yelling, there was headboard banging... for about 5 seconds. It was about time for me to get up anyway, so I got out of bed and started picking out what I was going to wear that day. And then I heard another sound coming from downstairs. The sound of banjo music.
Some people like to cuddle after sex. Some people like to take a shower. My neighbor liked to play the banjo.
(I do not think it was a recording because the banjo player kept messing up.)
I was not treated to the banjo sex every Tuesday, thank goodness, but it did occur a few more times. The girlfriend must have moved in with the med student because I saw her one time when I was getting the mail, and she also had a key to the mailbox. It was a girl with whom I had gone to high school. I pretended I had no idea who she was because all I could think was "banjo sex." I was very worried I would have one of those moments where you try so hard not to say something that you blurt it out. "Hey, Valerie. Good to see you again. So how's the banjo sex going? I mean... Gotta go!" followed by me sprinting up to my apartment.