Monday, April 7, 2008

Another Rant About the Neighbors

When I was little, going to Sunday School and trying to form a basis for my moral life, I went through a phase where I thought we should all get one "pass" at doing a really bad thing. If I recall correctly, this was when we were parsing through the middle ground of "God forgives all sins" and "if you break the 10 Commandments you'll go to hell". It seemed inconsistent to me, and I think I was trying to reason my way out of something that can't actually be reasoned.

At any rate, this "pass" for one really bad thing cropped up in my mind again tonight, as the kid upstairs is playing his bass badly and loudly for the 180th day in a row (and yes, I counted). For 180 days, minus a few here and there for Christmas and a couple of weekend trips, I have listened to this brat almost every single day since October 8th. I cower when I hear loud bass music on the street; I literally think I have PTSD from this experience. I want to go upstairs, break down the door, take the guitar, and smash it in a zillion pieces. Really, I do. If this act were not morally and criminally reprehensible, I would. Given the fact that I only have at most 15 more days of actually sleeping in this apartment, you'd think I'd be all zen about it. I am not. It just makes me think about what I might do and actually get away with.

The liberal socialist in me wants to be nice: the poor kid is probably 15, has no father, god only knows where his mother is, they are on public assistance, it's just an utter mess. The one thing the kid has is his music. And me, the "mean white lady" downstairs, who only speaks English, is ruining all the fun just because she has to go to her job in the morning. My white middle class guilt should be kicking in right about now.

But it's not, not at all. Possibly because when the kid isn't playing music, they are playing a game I like to call "Lets Move All The Furniture and Drop Heavy Things On The Floor Until 3 am". And so in the name of self-preservation, I sit here stewing and trying to think of creative ways to deal with the situation. I feel like there's something obvious that I'm missing, other than calling the cops. And it doesn't have to be a BAD thing; on some of the worst nights I've thought about going up there and offering the kid $50 to just watch TV all night (assuming they have a TV, or I had that sort of money to spare). But my luck, the kid would take the money and just turn up the amp. Plus, it would obviously set a really bad precedent.

I should just be grateful I'm in the home stretch and in another week it won't matter that I have to get up and go to work. Still, though, if anyone has any creative thoughts on the matter I'd appreciate them!!!

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