Posts tagged party

Only in your dreams

Yesterday morning, I was woken up by noise. In my pre-consciousness, I was back in my apartment. I heard a bunch of young women screaming and yelling, and a guy or two yelling loudly, probably having a fist fight.

Then I realized I was in my house, but the noise was still there. “Don’t tell me one of the neighbors had an all-night rager, and there’s a fight in the street,” I thought.

That would be very annoying, now that I’m living in a house.

Finally, as I became more awake, I knew what the sound was: geese flying overhead, honking noisily, and the neighborhood dogs were barking at them.

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About-face after a punch in the face

I understand I used to be young and dumb once. I used to party it up and yell and sometimes fight or cheer for fights.

Now that I am no longer young and dumb, it’s very annoying to witness.

A number of weeks ago, I couldn’t sleep on a Thursday night. As usual, there were people coming and going loudly. Because the temperatures were just right for sleeping with the windows open, I stubbornly refused to close mine.

At about 1:00 a.m., I heard some constant fighting between a male and female. Started out pretty benign, but got more and more heated. It got bad enough that I got up and looked out my living room window, to see if they were indoors or outdoors, and whether or not things looked bad enough to call the cops. It was about that point when the male yelled, “Back off! Back off! I don’t want to hit you!” And the female just kept screaming back. Well, that’s when they went indoors and I didn’t hear anything anymore. I chose not to call the cops, though I have in the past.

Then, about 2:10 a.m., I heard a huge group of people fighting. Guys yelling, and girls screaming. I called the cops. Of course, the cops want to know where the group is, but I can’t see where they are. Honestly, it sounded like they’re in all directions because of the way the sound was echoing. And with the trees growing bigger and more lush, I can’t see around the apartment complex as well.

So, the cops are on their way. Sure enough, once I’m off the phone, things start settling down. Then, I hear them joking. Sounds like at least one guy had punched another guy in the face in the heat of the moment, but now they’re making up! Unbelieveable! Girls are giggling nervously.

I watch the front of the building next door. I see shadows moving, so I realize that’s where this ridiculousness is taking place. I see three guys, all dressed in jeans and black T-shirts, break away from the group and start walking down the sidewalk. At that moment, I see a cop car coming up the street. It turns off its headlights.

The trio see this, and move off the sidewalk and out of sight. I see another cop behind the first one. The group is suddenly completely silent. The cops pull up in front of the correct building, get out and walk around.

My phone rings. “There are officers at the scene, and they’re wondering where they should be looking.” I tell the dispatcher that they’re parked in front of the correct building, but everyone is quiet now. I mention the guys that went walking down the sidewalk.

Duped, again.

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A new level of “early morning”

There was a party raging on the second floor balcony. I was startled awake early this Sunday morning.

Early, as in, 8:30 a.m.

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Oh, what a night

My neighbors on the second floor must’ve had quite a night.

They came home at about 1:00 a.m. this morning. There were about three of them. They spent a lot of time on their balcony, telling stories and laughing very loudly. They were obviously drunk. The F-bombs were flying freely. They woke me up several times over the course of the night. Yes, today was a work day. A Monday.

My plan was to drive along the front of the building this morning very slowly and honk my horn the entire way.

My plan was thwarted. I heard them on their balcony at 7:30 a.m. They sounded a little tired. But they were definitely still having a good time.

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Right in front of my eyes

Last night was quite comical in addition to being quite frustrating.

My next door neighbors were cranking the tunes all weekend. Last night, they made friends with some chicks in the building next to us who were also cranking the tunes. These girls looked like modern day Joan Jetts.

The guys were flirting with the cute girls across balconies. The girls who were with the idiot guys were making friends. (One exchange: “Oh my God! My name is Katelyn too! Out of curiosity, how do you spell your name?” “K-A-T-E-L-I-N.” “Oh, I’m L-Y-N.”)

I was ready to let it slide. But then I heard them making plans.

Cute chicks in the next building: “Hey, come on over!”

Idiot guys in my building: “Okay, we’ll be right over!”

So I called the cops and told them there was a party going on in the next building, second floor, facing the street, in the balcony below the orange lights. (Halloween lights, not Christmas.)

And I watched. A cop car came down the street and went behind the building. No one was the wiser. The cute girls apartment cranked the tunes with abandon. I heard some guys leave my apartment. They brazenly walked down the sidewalk, carrying cases of beer and holding beer cans, lifting them up for a swig every now and then. I thought for sure the cops would see this.

Just then, the phone rang. It was 12:24 a.m. It was dispatch, wondering if I could buzz the cops in. I told them I wasn’t in that building. “But,” I said emphatically, “there are two guys walking down the sidewalk RIGHT NOW carrying beer!” I thought we had them.

But no. A minute after they were in the building, another cop drove up the street, stopping about a block away. He came walking up. All the while, the tunes continue cranking.

A couple more guys came into my building, and went into the next door neighbors’ apartment.

Suddenly, I heard the music stop. I looked out my window. The kids were abandoning that apartment like rats off a sinking ship. They were loudly whispering, “Cops! Cops!”

A couple guys jumped down first, while others handed the beer to them. I saw about 12 people leave, each one of them carrying a case of beer! Each one!

The guys on the balcony next to me were laughing and taunting. One of the girls who was carrying a case of beer made it to the sidewalk before her case broke and beer cans rolled in all directions. She laughed and they laughed as she picked them up. The entire dozen kids, each carrying alcohol, made it to the apartment complex two blocks away. The cops never even noticed.

I heard the guys on the balcony next to me say they made it to the busted apartment just as the cops did, and turned away to avoid arrest.

Well, just five minutes later, five more people come out of that apartment onto the balcony, laughing about how the cops were now gone. They even had beers in their hands at that very moment. They tossed beer cans to the guys in my building. (“You gotta alley-HOOP it! Don’t throw it! Alley-HOOP it!”)

All this as the cop who had parked down the street came driving up the street to leave. They were alley-HOOPing beer as a cop drove by.

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Revenge in the early morn

I was about to have a big day on Friday. My company’s annual meeting is next week and as a member of the communications staff, I was in charge of a speech for one of the senior vice presidents. Friday morning at 8:00 a.m. was a “dry run” for all senior v.p. speeches. That meant I wanted to get to work by 7:30 a.m., just to get settled before the meeting.

My neighbors obviously had nothing to do the next day. They had a party, of course. They played that game where they try to see how many of them can fit on the balcony. When they see they can fit at least 10 people, they scream and yell and laugh. It’s ridiculous.

At one point, someone yelled from their own apartment, “Shut the hell up!” I wanted to jump and cheer and laugh myself. But I was so tired. And I just needed to sleep. My neighbors quieted down for a bit, and I fell asleep.

The last time I woke up before my alarm was at 4:46 a.m. They were still partying.

When I got out of bed at 6:45 a.m., I went through my morning routine. Wet my hair at the bathtub faucet, put my contact lenses in, and started brushing my teeth. By this time, I stomped though my living room for the entire time I brushed. I spit. Then I stomped through my living room as I brushed my hair. Again, before I left for the morning, I stomped right on through again. It was nice.

My only regret is that I forgot to slam my door twice on the way out.

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Calling the manager vs. calling the cops

I hate calling the cops.

One reason — though not the most important reason — is that it’s hard not to feel like a nag and a tattletale. Even though police will always tell you to call them rather than take matters into your own hands, they still sound annoyed when you call with a noise complaint.

The bigger reason is that the cops often don’t catch the perps in the act. Either the police pull up to the front of the building and all the loud underage drinkers scatter, or the police knock on their door and nobody answers.

My next door neighbors are not as bad as the previous ones. Instead of standing on their balcony and yelling at cars in the street, the new neighbors’ noise is a constant drone. For two weeks now, they’ve had people over every single night. Some nights, it’s probably an extra three to five people. Some nights, it’s as many at 20 people. They don’t even play loud music late at night. But I can hear all of them talking at the same time even in my bedroom. Sometimes they’ll go out on their balcony — where I can hear them even better — and continue to talk at the same time. Plus, I think they wrestle.

So how do you call the cops when what you’re hearing is a constant annoying not-really-white-noise noise? The cops will show up and be annoyed. So I called the apartment manager this week and left a message. I told them that my neighbors have people over every single night. Just before I called, one of them either fell to the floor or against the wall so hard that it shook stuff in my apartment. I reminded the apartment managers that the lease says “no parties.”

The night after I called, my neighbors had another party. Either they weren’t warned by the managers, or they just didn’t care.

These kids are in college. I did the same thing back then. But nowadays I work at 8:00 a.m., Monday through Friday. I can’t put up with this crap.

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