Dear downstairs neighbors:
I know that you enjoy talking loudly about things such as your friend who "went to the swap meet wearing those tiny, shiny capri pants." I also know that you think Catholics don't just become Buddhists overnight. I know that you enjoy starting home improvement projects by hammering into your wall at five in the morning. I know all of these things because you guys are kind of loud.
It's OK, though. I am willing to ignore all of these things because your quirks are generally entertaining. I really do get a kick out of them, and I appreciate your good taste in cats. (That "beautiful ginger cat" is named Minou, by the way.) In general, you are the good kind of loud neighbors.
Except tonight we have a problem: You have the stereo cranked up so loud that I can hear every oom-pah of the polka compilation you're enjoying. Which would be funny, except I'm trying to have a big cry up here! It feels incongruous to sniffle and create a Kleenex mountain while some tuba is ending a song with a flatulent C-sharp. And because I try to ration my bouts of full-blown sobbing to only a few times per week, this emotional-purge time is valuable. It feels better after I let it all out. "The Beer Barrel Polka" will not do.
I would be happy to compile a mix of songs that would be suitable for your musical needs and my catharsis. (We both like New Order, so we can find a track or two that works for everyone.) Please let me know if you would be interested in my services.
Sincerely,
Your neighbor, who is mostly joking, but really does wish you'd turn the volume down
(PS)
Thank you for being nice about turning the music down when I hobbled to your apartment and knocked on your door at 2am.
I know that you enjoy talking loudly about things such as your friend who "went to the swap meet wearing those tiny, shiny capri pants." I also know that you think Catholics don't just become Buddhists overnight. I know that you enjoy starting home improvement projects by hammering into your wall at five in the morning. I know all of these things because you guys are kind of loud.
It's OK, though. I am willing to ignore all of these things because your quirks are generally entertaining. I really do get a kick out of them, and I appreciate your good taste in cats. (That "beautiful ginger cat" is named Minou, by the way.) In general, you are the good kind of loud neighbors.
Except tonight we have a problem: You have the stereo cranked up so loud that I can hear every oom-pah of the polka compilation you're enjoying. Which would be funny, except I'm trying to have a big cry up here! It feels incongruous to sniffle and create a Kleenex mountain while some tuba is ending a song with a flatulent C-sharp. And because I try to ration my bouts of full-blown sobbing to only a few times per week, this emotional-purge time is valuable. It feels better after I let it all out. "The Beer Barrel Polka" will not do.
I would be happy to compile a mix of songs that would be suitable for your musical needs and my catharsis. (We both like New Order, so we can find a track or two that works for everyone.) Please let me know if you would be interested in my services.
Sincerely,
Your neighbor, who is mostly joking, but really does wish you'd turn the volume down
(PS)
Thank you for being nice about turning the music down when I hobbled to your apartment and knocked on your door at 2am.
Labels: crabbiness, emo spice
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