...and you think that you're done laughing for the day, done smiling, done being entertained. you go outside to drink some apple cinammon tea and have a bedtime cigarette, and you sit at the top of the stairs yawning and thinking about how lovely the view of the trees is from where you are. and then, out of nowhere, the douchebag downstairs neighbor comes out of his apartment, gets halfway up the stairs with a bong in one hand and a beer in the other, looks up, sees you sitting at the top, turns around and goes directly back into his apartment, without a word.
and then you laugh maniacally.
for like two solid minutes.
the moral of the story is: don't close the book on amusement, not until you are for sure asleep.