Note: After phoning my dad earlier today about this matter, he suggested that I write a letter and not send it. My version of that? Blogging it.
Dear Neighbors Across the Street:
I was awakened this morning, my only day off, by the familiar sound of thumping bass from your stereo. What I didn’t realize at the time was that it was your home stereo and not the car. For nearly two hours, I listened to this thumping from the comfort of my house on a chilly day when all windows and doors were closed.
Eventually, I noticed a police car proceeding down the street slowly. And then I saw it going the other direction. Shortly thereafter, my phone rang and it was your next door neighbor, H. She had been listening to your music for nearly two hours as well, and it was inhibiting her toddler’s ability to take her afternoon nap. It was H who called the police, because she had had enough. And I didn’t blame her. She’s a lot closer to the noise than I am and it was annoying enough over here.
Neighbors, I moved into my house in 2003. You moved in two years later. In that time, I have had precisely four conversations with S (female) and one with T (male). My first conversation consisted of S knocking on my door during the weekend that the church festivals takes place, asking if she could temporarily park in my driveway while she ran into her house, because with all the cars parked it was easier to get out of my driveway than hers. Of course I agreed, having dealt with the festival traffic for two years prior.
My second conversation with S took place last summer, when I was in my home office, located in the back of my house, with the TV on. I couldn’t hear the TV because you both were working out in the front yard and you had your car stereo blasting music. I opened up my front door and called out, “S, could you please turn that down? I can hear it all the way in the back of my house.” To her credit, S complied with my request immediately. T, on the other hand, turned it back up, and opened and closed the car doors repeatedly as if to further direct the sound my way. He also started calling out various lyrics as they apparently applied to me: asshole, bitch, etc.
To this day, I’m still not sure what I did to deserve that. But it definitely changed my perception of you all.
You see, H and her husband had an issue with you immediately. I am not that quick to judge. I’m never sure if this is a fault or an asset to my personality, but I generally give people all kinds of chances. I look for the redeeming values. Even though I had heard H and C complain about you, I wasn’t willing to believe that you were really that difficult to live near. But last summer made me start to reconsider - at least about T.
Today was my fourth conversation with S. And I am not proud of it. At all. Hours after the police came and went, T came home from work. H, the one who had called the police, was not at home. T pulled up outside of your house with his car stereo blasting so loudly that my son literally ran out of his room to find out what the hell was going on. T got out of the SUV, engine still running, left the door open and proceeded to open the tailgate - all to allow the noise to travel even further. It was clearly a retaliation against whoever had complained.
I snapped.
I yelled out the front door to T, “Turn that shit off before I fucking call the police!” And in doing so, I opened up the can of worms. Things will never EVER be the same now. What I was able to mask with tolerance before is now full blown hostility.
What you should know about me, S & T, is that I am not a confrontational person. If you’re not related to me, I don’t generally raise my voice. I abhor dealing with irate patrons at work, because I don’t like arguing. It makes me physically ill. I shake and I get upset and I can’t get over it for hours. My kids pick on me because I won’t even honk my horn at someone who cuts me off. So for me to go off like that? Obviously, you had passed the point of no return with me.
I mentioned something about common courtesy toward your neighbors that clearly went over both your heads. My boyfriend didn’t like the way T was talking to me and he quickly ventured out the door and into the fray. And T? You can walk and talk like a badass all you want, but between The Boyfriend and my son who was also in the front yard by then? You didn’t stand a chance.
Here’s the thing: I’m ashamed of my action today, but I have no guilt over my anger. You have no respect for anyone other than yourselves. You shoot your mouthes off to the wrong people, and as a result, we now know more about you than you’d probably like us to - your severely delinquent property taxes, for example. You had the gall, T, to call me white trash. I hope you enjoyed the gales of laughter that drew from the three of us. I pay my taxes, I don’t beat my dog, and I don’t peel out in the street just because I’m pissed off at my significant other - three times within one hour, no less. When I come home from work after midnight, I make sure that I turn down my stereo (which is never as loud as yours) as soon as I turn into my neighborhood EVEN IF MY WINDOWS ARE ROLLED UP because I don’t want to disturb my neighbors. I know… what a concept! If only you could pay me the same courtesy when you leave for work at 6 a.m.
The bottom line? I’m here to stay. I have a 4% interest rate on my mortgage. I like my house, and other than you? I like my neighborhood. I have no plans to move. In other words, I guarantee you that I will outlast you. And I will continue to call the police every time you disturb my peace - because today they told me to do just that. I may not be proud of my behavior today, but ultimately? I know I’m right.
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