Dear Noisy Neighbors.
There will be no "OMGSTFU" for you. No. I will actually spell it out. Oh my God, shut the fuck up! Are you kidding me? Do you not have a job? How old are you? Teenagers? Alone and renting an apartment unsupervised for the first time? Well guess what. I'm old as shit and I don't want to hear you bumping Art Laboe shout outs and Zapp & Roger on a school night until well past midnight. I just don't. When I am in the sanctuary that is my home I prefer listening to my own TV and my own music. Not yours. I don't know if you've picked up on it yet but the walls that separate us are paper thin. And that thing outside your door is no balcony. No. It's merely a second story walkway to your apartment. It's not yours. K? It's all of ours. A community pathway for the five doors of our neighbors whom I happen to be nestled right in the middle of. What that translates to is: Don't stand outside my open window popping the tops off your beer bottles and letting them clank to the concrete ground whilst spitting obscenities in your outside voice. And while you are at it? Let the girls and boys playing inside know that screaming is simply not suitable for the indoors. I've already knocked on your door and banged on your wall. I've called the apartment manager. Next time I'm bringing in the big guns and calling the OPD. You've been warned.
One pissed off bitch.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: There's this thing called an "indoor voice." Use it.