I was fine when my new neighbors had a loud Saturday night party. I was fine when, a few weeks later, they had a Saturday night birthday party that was just as loud and ran just as late.
I know it was a birthday party because everyone gathered in the back yard at 10:50pm to sing the happy birthday song at the top of their lungs. (Yes, I was in bed at 10:50 on a Saturday night. Shut up.) Did I mention their house faces a through-street while mine is the first house on a cul-de-saq so their backyard is right outside my bedroom window?
So I suppose it is no surprise there was yet more loud music and laughter and video gaming and children squealing but I draw the line at 11:30pm on a Wednesday night.
Picture me throwing on jeans and standing in front of the mirror trying to decide whether to put a jacket over my tank dress PJ / rumpled jeans combo before heading over to politely ask them to shut the fuck up.
A man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties opened the door, though do not rely on me when it comes to guessing age. Anyone under forty is “mid-twenties” to me. He was accompanied by a young boy. I had thought, perhaps, the children I heard squealing were really young adults over-excited by the video game. Surely responsible parents would not let their young children stay up this late on a school night.
But life is full of surprises to fuel my sense of outraged disapproval.
I was polite. I introduced myself and explained that I lived behind them and how their back door was right next to my bedroom so could they please turn the music down and also close their sliding glass door? By 10:00pm on weeknights?
I added that I hated to be such a party pooper because they sounded like they were having a really good time.
I smiled a lot.
The man did not smile but he did bob his head and say okay and repeated “by 10:00.”
Back in bed, it was sweet, blissful quiet. They continued to party but had turned down the music and closed the door so I only heard the tiniest beat of bass, and only if I strained my ears and concentrated real hard.
I lay awake, feeling a bit anxious about having to go over there but glad I did all the same. Perhaps it was the Tejano music that sent me over the edge. Would I have bothered if it was rock and roll? I do wonder.
Should I still bake cookies and introduce myself properly in the daylight? Maybe I will wait and see if they bake cookies for me as a peace offering.
I am not holding my breath.
