As if I break out the Kermit flail for just anything. |
It's not simply that I was starting to think no one would ever want to play in my yard. Although it's a lot of that. Because deep down I'm still that insecure kid who wore way too much double-knit polyester in the 70s and never had the right kind of shoes.
But I digress.
The main reason I'm way excited is that I scored an absolute home run with my first guest blogger. If you don't know The Jeneral and her blog, Jeneral Insanity, you need to get on that shit pronto. Jen is one of the sharpest, funniest writers in the whole blogosphere. For some reason, she follows my poor scribbles. Also, she was the very first person who didn't already know me IRL to find me on Facebook because of my blog, and I'm so glad she's stalkery that way, because now she's not just a Drunkard but a friend.
I just wish she didn't live, like, a thousand states away. |
Jen's a single mom, and that's a struggle, and if I ever suddenly found myself in the middle of a Barenaked Ladies song with a million dollars, I'd give her a bunch of it (and a monkey). From where I stand, though, she's nailing the mom thing, and that's worth more than money, no matter what the electric company says.
So I've been begging The Jeneral for a guest post for a while, and she finally coughed up this gem. It almost makes me wish for a neighbor like Randy so I could unleash righteous awenger (that's awesome anger) upon him. Please enjoy, and be sure to visit Jeneral Insanity on the Web and on Facebook.
A Letter to Randy
by The Jeneral
I recently posted on my blog about the ten things I despise most about
living in an apartment again. One of those things were the noises coming from
the neighbors. Between kids yelling, bathroom habits of the people next door
and the sexual encounters, I’m going insane. I mean, my kids make enough
obnoxious sounds on a daily basis to drive me bat-shit crazy. I don’t like
hearing you poop dude, so if you could just keep the grunting to a minimum,
that’d be great.
This post is about one neighbor in particular. He lives in a different
building than I do, but he’s close enough that I can hear everything that goes
on in his apartment when I step out on my balcony to smoke.
At first I started yelling off of my balcony for him to shut his
window. His response was always, “You shut your fucking windows!” which is not exactly a solution
I’m willing to work with being that it’s summer and we don’t have air
conditioning. After the third conversation like that, I started yelling things
like, “She’s faking it!” or cheering him on with statements like, “YEAH! Go
Randy! Do it harder and faster so I can get some fucking sleep already!”
because I am nothing if not tactful and ladylike.
Editorial comment aka I can't stop being a mom. |
I love the Internet. |
My 13yr old and I had a pretty good time one night plotting all of the things we could do to let him know that we (and everyone else) could hear their shenanigans. We talked about writing things like, “I know what you did last night” and “Good job, Randy!” with a gold star on sticky notes and putting them on his door. We discussed going over there and ringing his doorbell a few times and walking away every 5 minutes or so. She thought it would be a good idea to just put encouraging stickers on his door every time so that he would at least start getting as frustrated as we were when he had to scrape them off.
Instead, after a bottle of wine one night, I started feeling super
passive-aggressive and typed up the following letter and taped it to his door
after knocking like a maniac:
Randy-
You don’t know me. I’ve never met you either. You may even be wondering
how I know your name without being privy to sensitive documents that are
contained in the office here in this magnificent apartment complex…
It’s because you choose to engage in adult relations with women who
seem to think that the villagers in West Africa need to know your name.
For the love of glob and all that is holy, can you please, please, PLEASE
be more considerate of your neighbors and shut your bedroom window when you
know that you’re about to engage in a sexual encounter with a woman that is
known to scream like a retarded banshee being stabbed by angry villagers?
I’m not sure how your immediate neighbors feel about your encounters,
but as a person that lives in a completely different building, and who has to
get up on a daily basis at 4:30am for work, I really don’t appreciate hearing
your name being yelled through my bedroom window – which happens to be on the
other side of an opposing building.
I’m not telling you to stop having sex by any means. Hell, you go, boy!
Get your damn freak on! All I’m asking is that it stop being broadcast to the
entire complex. It’s honestly pretty embarrassing when my 5yr old wakes me up
asking who Randy is, and why it sounds like he’s killing his girlfriend.
I’ve been there, done that. Good for you. But, seriously? It’s summer.
It’s hot. I (and all of your other neighbors) shouldn’t have to sleep with our
windows closed and hope that the one you brought home tonight isn’t a fake
screamer like the last one.
It’s annoying. It’s obnoxious. And to be perfectly honest with you,
it’s inconsiderate and just plain rude. I get that you’re paying rent here to
do whatever you deem appropriate in your own apartment. What you don’t seem to
understand is that the rest of us are also
paying rent here to do what we deem appropriate – which is to fucking sleep
without your name being incorporated into our dreams.
If you don’t quite remember signing your lease, we have a “quiet time”
curfew from 10pm-8am, and your
“business” always happens after that. I only know this because I go to bed
around 9, and am frequently woken up by your disturbances.
Feel free to open your windows again once you’ve done the deed to air
it out, cool off and whatnot. Just please shut your windows out of
consideration for others when you know this is going to happen. Also consider
this your last warning before I start reporting these noise disturbances EVERY.
DAMN. TIME.
Again – I’m not some prude who’s jealous of your sex life, I’m just a
single mother who would like to be able to get some adequate sleep before getting
up for work every day.
Hopefully you take these words into serious consideration so that I
don’t have to be “That Guy.”
Yours Truly,
One Sleepy Mama
It seemed to work for a while, as we hadn’t heard anything for a couple
of weeks.
Eventually he forgot about my loving little note and they seem to be
purposely louder now. I did end up calling the security company a few times to
report the noise disturbances and had a pretty good chuckle with the dispatch
lady, but it seems to have gotten me nowhere.
Maybe next time I’ll go out into the yard and take a few pictures, then tape those to his door with some informative critiquing. I’m assuming that
he wants people to watch anyways, as he never closes his blinds.
*****
I LOVE YOU, JEN.
Support The Jeneral, guys. Show her some love.
I've got another guest post lined up for next week, but I'm looking for more. That email address is cbaudelaire(at)always-drunk.com.
Randy's randy. Whatchoo expect?
ReplyDeleteGreat story! Perhaps the next time you hear the wails of pleasure you can shout something like, 'I assume he's told you about his gonorrhea affliction?' That might cool their excitement for a while. but then again, they might start rowing.
ReplyDeleteHoly crap Jeneral do you live next to my apartment? You know that's just porn on the tv I have turned up all the way right?
ReplyDeleteI'll close the window for now on.