The Neighbor Strikes Again

Many of us now know of the scraggly drunkard known as my neighbor who fancies himself a musician. From his insistence that I meet his drug impaired girlfriend to his all night playing of music, he has made quite a name for himself.

He really oversteps his bounds but since the mix of Budwiser and vicodin impair judgment, what can one do but let him run his course until he passes out? The latest episode perfectly illustrates his audacity to make himself and only himself the center of the universe.

It started on Saturday at 4 AM, a vain attempt to play a famous song by Three Dog Night began. The execution was scattered and desperate. The instrument, a terribly out of tune electric guitar. To add further irritation to the entire building, slurred vocals bellowed out with what I can best describe as dazed urgency.

Our friend continued his ill fated attempt to play this song for the rest of the day and came to a stop (likely by passing out) Sunday at 3 AM. Later that day (I reckon around 4 or 5 in the afternoon) I jumped in the shower in preparation to go to my friends house where they attempted to force feed me pork. Se how these stories tie together? Anyway, while ironing some clothes I decided to break the tedium with some music. I fired up iTunes and played a few songs with the volume set to low. I repeat, the volume was set to LOW. Within moments, pounding on my walls and then my door. It was my neighbor. I opened the door to greet him, resisting the urge to grab him by his neck and smash him repeatedly into the wall. I really don't need that kind of trouble in my life now so best I err on the side of restraint and good judgment which is my standard practice for these maters. 

Neighbor: Hey, hey, you have to be quiet man. It's Sunday night, you know? There's people trying to do things and rest. Mondays suck. You have to lower that...

I shot him a look of death and felt my body tensing and moving toward him. No, I would not strike him but I would get in his face and tell him off. 

Neighbor: Hey! Hey man look, I'm sorry. Easy, easy! Here.

He handed me a beer.

Neighbor: You want more? I'll give you some more.

I took the beer.

Me: No.
 
Neighbor: You sure? I have other stuff. What do you need?

Me: I'll turn it off, just get out. Now.

Neighbor: See, how we can work things out? That's the great thing about being neighbors. You're a good guy. You work things out in a nice way. I'm glad we have this thing between us.

The anger within me grew, presenting itself vividly on my face. He took a step back.

Neighbor: OK. OK. I got it. Have a good one. I'll leave you alone.

Can someone please explain to me how this floundering cocksucker has avoided eviction!?!?!

Coming up....

The curious case of the hijab woman. 

And....

The wondrous values of Aldi.