Note to My Neighbors

Don't misunderstand me. It's not that I don't like show tunes or how energetically you sing them. (That friend of yours does a nice job with Olivia’s part in “Summer Nights.” And which one of you covers John Travolta?) It’s just that I don’t enjoy hearing them in the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep.

Hoots and hollers to encourage or congratulate rounds of shots? Those I’m not of fan of anytime quite honestly. Remember, I’m in my forties now. Even when I was in my twenties like you, shots weren’t my thing.

The banging doors, the stomping up and downstairs? That’s just annoying any time of day, and I dare say it’s deliberate on your part. You’re both so skinny, I can’t imagine why it sounds like I have tight ends (oops) linebackers living next door.

Now, when all of them—shots and show tunes and the stomping and slamming doors in and out— lead to one of your brawls, which invariably forces one of you into the wall that separates our units and shakes my metal wall sculpture? And it’s 3 in the morning? Well now, I’m good and pissed off. And because it’s not the first or second or third time it’s happened, and you’ve been duly warned, I’m going to do more than shake my head at your immaturity.

It’s called 911, b*tches.

When I can’t sleep at home, we’ll see how well you can sleep in jail. Game on.

PS Those cops that responded? Pretty nice to look at though, wouldn’t you agree?