An open letter to my neighbors downstairs:
It’s Friday morning, about 4:15 am. I have been kept awake for something like two hours now by your noise. I know that having fun is important, but right now I can’t help but feel like my need to get up for work in a mere two hours, and my right to get plenty of sleep to do so in an unzombielike manner, might trump the importance of your very loud and long game of “slap the bag.”
I am not one to come and complain and request for quiet. I think you ladies have been very nice during our past interactions, but right now you are drunk and you are with other drunks, and I can’t help but think about the potentially awful reaponse I might get from you even though I am not in the wrong. I am not In the mood to have a conflict with anyone right now. I tried knocking on my floor (the universal gesture that means “you are being too loud with your franzia bag for this neighbor who actually has shit to do in the morning. It’s not the weekend yet, you ogres.”) but you checked to see if someone had knocked on the door and then turned up your face-hole volume.
This has happened before. It is not a novel occurrence. You, I, and every other tenent in this building signed a lease, and in that lease is stated an 11 pm noise cutoff, for the courtesy of others in the house. When you signed it, that meant you were agreeing to this term, yet you violate it again and again. I have violated it ONCE, on the weekend, when I had a gathmering of folks for a soiree, but we were all out by 12:30 because we are adults with common decency. You must not realize that every other person in this building holds a full time, M-F job. Regardless, I would think it’s common sense to assume that most people are asleep at 4:30 on a Friday morning.
And now you and your friends are running in and out of the house, letting the door slam behind you. I wasn’t aware of this aspect of slap the bag. Maybe you play with different rules than I am aware of.
I keep trying to remind myself of a nugget of Dalai Lama wisdom, and that is to be grateful for one’s enemies, because they allow us opportunity to practice patience. Simultaneously, I feel like stomping as hard and loud as I can and screaming very loudly at you, like a spoiled kid at the grocery store whose mom refuses to buy a sugary cereal