If you ever feel like your family is a bit odd, please know my family has a long history of keeping track of one another in our 3-storey house by basically echolocating with chirps and soft howls. Like it’s impossible to describe how, every time I step into my house, the fucking spirit of some long dead creature possesses my body to make a long, monstrous crooning noise so that I can tell who is home by the distinct noises I get in return.
Most people can tell who is where in the house by the sound of footsteps, but since my house has tiles we’ve come to rely on making the occasional chirp to get a reply and pinpoint where a certain family member is -- it’s mostly done because my brother is an ass who never tells anyone whether he’s coming or going, so you got make insistent chirps to get a grunt in reply.
Now this shit has been fucking pavlov’d into the very core of my dumb primitive lizard brain so it shouldn’t even surprise me that upon moving into a flat share, I immediately performed this behaviour unthinkingly. So, into the large, echoing house that housed 6 other strangers, I made a loud bellowing noise as I toed my shoes off and nonchalantly made my way to the kitchen. To which, one of the 30-year-old men just living his good life in the living room by the door, promptly freaked out, dropped and shattered a glass, while choking on the beer still in his mouth.
All because some weedy young girl made a noise reminiscent of a wildebeest for no apparent reason.