It's been a fun filled week at the Camp/Whiting household. We've both found ourselves fighting for control of, dun-dun-duuuuuh (dramatic scary music... you know the type), silence. Better yet, a battle of who can be the loudest, with our very own new kids on the block.
Last weekend a young couple moved in the split duplex attached to our house, and with them they brought their lovely children. I don't mind the children's constant crying or really how loud the kids are in general. However there is something I do mind.
I love hip-hop as most people know. In fact just last night I was listening to Talib, Mos and The Roots... at a reasonable level in my room. I say this because after a day of moving the couple next door decides to play Drake (who I can't stand) as loudly as I'm assuming they possibly could at 12:45am! Who does that? I'm thinking to myself, they're probably trying to relax and chill after a long day of moving so I'll let it go. Or should I say, they let it go, and go, and go until 5am! I don't mind too much though. I have enough trouble sleeping so why not add loud bass to the mix.
The next day roles around and at roughly 9am the music starts again. I'm thinking, not only did you only sleep 4 hours, but you can't do anything with out music playing.... loudly! I go over to knock on the door and ask them if they would turn it down, no answer at the door. So I knock harder, and same exact result. They're ignoring me. It's ok though. They're probably still moving stuff. Understandable, I can deal with it.
Let us flash forward to last night. It's been a week. The music constantly thumping and my head following right behind. I am getting ready to watch Sunday Night Football. My Cowboys are playing against the Dead-Skins. I'm getting pumped. The pre-game show has started, I have my longhorns belt-buckle on, I'm 3 Sam Adam's Oktoberfest into it and my Dallas Cowboy D-hat (like Tony) on ready to go... aaaaand it begins. The music is turned up to an ungodly volume. The kind that shook the whole house. I have to turn the tv up as loud as possible just to hear it. It's on.
I continue to watch the game and it's fine. Not the best result and the music was eventually done before the game and I settled. Irritated and obviously distraught I came up with a plan.
Everybody hates Mondays. No one wants their weekend to end, let a lone wake up early. Let's help these noise-nazis love their Monday.
It's been a long held tradition of mine to vacuum at 7:21 in the morning ever Monday... or at least for about 8 hours. Also, for about that same time-frame, I will listen to 311 - 311 (self titles) and Deftones - White Pony as loudly as I can. Obviously, so I can hear it over the vacuum, duh.
Many of you might find this to be petty and immature. Believe me it is.
I have taken all measure possible before sinking to this barbaric and juvenile gorilla tactic. I've called the landlord. Nothing. I've tried to get a hold of the neighbors. Nothing. At some point we must protect ourselves... or in this case be a complete and utter ass.
I feel no remorse for my actions. If need be I'll pull out the big guns; NIN, Tool, and Busta Rhymes. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I will have the cleanest carpets in all of Indianapolis.
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