Wednesday, September 18, 2002

When I first moved into my apartment, there was a guy downstairs with a nice new sound system that loved to play his music so loud, I could feel it in my feet as I walked around the apartment. He moved out this September.

Now all the students are back and I have swapped the bass line from every annoying techno song and anything playing on the tv downstairs for members of a shitty punk band who, to my ill luck, have amps. It has been exactly 18 days since they moved in and they still have not learned that the "quad" area between the buildings we live in resonates every single sound made anywhere near the windows as if you had invited a shitty punk band to play in your bedroom while you are trying to sleep.

I began my protest with screaming out the window.

Soon, others joined.

Two nights ago, a man purchased a mega-phone and began to use it to request silence.

I told the man I loved him.

Last night, the music was not quite as loud, but even though it was a cool crisp night, the perfect kind for cuddling up under a quilt and sleeping soundly, I shut my windows. I laid in bed, still hearing the music. Mega-phone man made a plea. Others slammed their windows shut so loudly, I could hear it like dominoes cascading.

Finally, in a break between songs I jumped out of bed, threw open my window, and screamed,
"Even with my GODDAMN windows shut, I can STILL HEAR your LAME-ASS music! Could you PLEASE TAP INTO A LITTLE HUMAN DECENCY AND TURN THE SHIT DOWN!!"

Apparently the human decency part worked, because it became silent. I still kept my windows closed. This is war, afterall.