(no subject)

[wickedflea]

So I pounded on my next-door neighbor's door until the cretin finally got off his lazy ass and answered it. He actually looked like he had just crawled out from underneath something, like perhaps a dumpster. Probably on a bender or something. Anyway, I told him he needed to turn his television down because it could be heard throughout my apartment. (I didn't go into detail, but I could have. My bedroom is next to his living room, but I can stand at my front door -- as far away from his apartment as I can get -- and still make out the words of whatever the fuck kind of '70s crime drama he happens to be watching at the time. I swear, I think his whole existence is a goddamn Starsky and Hutch marathon. Shootouts and car crashes -- interrupted by long stretches of bassy dialogue -- like you wouldn't believe.) So he stands there and looks at me for a few seconds, probably struggling to focus. I thought for a minute that he was going to try to jump on me, and I got kind of scared for a moment, 'cuz this is a big ol' boy. Finally he just kind of shrugged and said, "OK," like it was the most ridiculous request he'd ever heard, but he'd placate my crazy ass by complying.

I thought the chick upstairs was bad enough with her cowish stride and her occasional fuckfest (BTW, she must be going through a dry spell. Haven't heard dueling bedsprings for weeks), but this guy's television has her beat. He wasn't this bad when I first moved in; he must have been gradually increasing the volume. ("I'm gonna turn it up to seventy-five tonight. And then, oh yes, I will truly be able to groove on Columbo.") If this doesn't work (though it seems to have, at least temporarily), I'll be forced to plug in my guitar, turn up to 11, and rock some "In-a-Gadda-da-Vida" 'til the cocksucker's ears bleed.

I don't think I'm overly sensitive to noise. Or maybe I am sometimes, but I'm very tolerant; that is, I almost never ask people to be quiet, because I don't want them knocking on my door when I crank the stereo up a little bit. Point being, when these people have got me banging on the ceiling with a mop handle and angrily complaining, they're too fucking loud.

I just don't understand how people can keep the television that loud. My dad does that. It's really sad when you think about it -- people so disgusted with their own existences that they have to be in a constant state of sensory overload. And, god, it's not even music -- it's fucking mindless television!

Comments

[jenferian.livejournal.com]

Wow. The only complaint I have is with my upstairs neighbor. I think he straps on 10lb boots and jumps around his apartment for fun -- or at least that's what it sounds like.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Heh. Yeah, that's how the woman upstairs walks. And she has some sort of ritual where she runs around the apartment for about twenty minutes around midnight.