A Letter To My Neighbors. Like Five Of Them.
Sunday, 2:00 a.m.
Dear College Boys Next Door:
I said hi to one of you across the chain link fence when we first arrived in this cute little ‘burb, and you smiled, were polite, and I thought this would work. You told me there were “like five” of you living there, in that one little house, and I laughed because there were “like five” apples in my fruit bowl and “like five” bills I had to pay.
But I knew, beyond a doubt, exactly how many people lived in my house.
And I should have known then, though our yards share a fence, that the miles between us were vast and unfathomable.
I’ll start with the small stuff, the typical complaint, the telltale sign besides laugh lines and the proper patio set displayed on my deck, that will assure us all that I’m no longer as young as I thought:
In case you haven’t noticed, you’re living in a residential suburb — not Fraternity Row.
While it’s true we’re mere blocks from the statuesque brick buildings dotted among the green squares of your university, please understand that these streets serve a purpose beyond parking for parties, honking your car horns, and shouting to your friends at two o’clock in the morning. There are other ways to let people know you’ve arrived, you know, like high beams and cell phones and a phenomenon known as knocking on the door.
And seriously? Why the shouting? You do, after all, live in the age of texting, don’t you? Despite my strong inclination to feel otherwise, in your case, I think you should do it. Do it all the time.
Honestly. I’m not unreasonable. And still seasonably chill.
I’m not so far removed from my twenties that I can’t handle the fact that your back yard is still full of trash and that your front yard is still full of Christmas. I don’t like to rake either, so we have that in common. And my angsty feelings about your bright orange Adirondack chairs are probably just envy, though you’ll never hear me admit it.
It’s the thump thump of your base, though, that works itself into the recesses of my mind like an irritable tick — the endless tock of Captain Hook’s clock, reminding me of the time and of my age and of all of the things I still haven’t done. Lying in bed, I begin to drift off to the lull of my own mediocrity, the erratic rhythm of your party a lullaby, matching — beat for beat — the nervous pulse of my own restless mind.
But then you shout, and I jump, and I start to think that maybe I’ll never sleep again.
My real problem, of course, is really all my own. The things that excite you — like a case of Natural Light and not making the bed — are no longer the things that excite me — like a rare bottle of red and the city hauling away our bulk demolition debris. It makes me uncomfortable, I think, to know that where once I could “hang,” I now wonder if you’ll laugh if I ask you to turn it down, just a little, because you’re making it difficult for me to concentrate on the book I’m reading.
In bed.
At ten.
On Saturday night.
I have five — like five — contractors to call tomorrow, and I have five — like five — email accounts I have to check, and I have five — like five — different kinds of vitamins to take. And my real problem, it turns out, is that part of me — the wrinkle-free, spontaneous, slightly misguided part — still wants to be a little like you.
But reasonably, I know. My “like five” and your “like five” will never be the same again.
You see, I’m just a thirty-something trapped inside the mind and body of a thirty-something. I have real issues to deal with these days, like paying the mortgage and buying the right under-eye cream and avoiding polyunsaturated fats. And I can’t do all that, you know, to the thump thump thump of your Captain Hook clock.
Because it reminds me that still, though I’m not where you are, there are new places to go.
Discoveries to make.
Fountains and fountains of youth to drink in.
(And not of the antioxidant-filled vitamin water variety I might buy at the store.)
So.
I just wanted to write to say thanks.
Thanks for the irritation. The rationalization. And then the reminder.
I don’t want to be your kind of young, but I don’t have to be my kind of old.
I needed it.
-Katie
Comments
Wow do I feel your pain. Except I live in a townhouse and my neighbours teenage daughter continues to have loud obnoxious sex in the middle of the day or night. I’ve snapped once or twice, okay maybe like five times, and now she thumps around and slams doors to the extent that I just want to jump through our party wall (because it’s so thin I probably could) and choke her. Ugh there is nothing worse than untamed college Neanderthals or teenage girls.
Instead…we’ve decided to soundproof this summer. So i’ll be broke but at peace.
Ha! You just made me realize it could be so much worse. We could share actual walls (so thankful there’s brick between us!). Or, worse still, they could be GIRLS. ;)
(And that is seriously gross that you have to listen to that. I’ll take the the thumping of bass over the thumping of sex. Fo sho’.)
Ummmm so I shouldn’t get so irritated at the 80 year old man whose TV is on the other side of the wall where the head of my bed is and who blares it at all hours of the night? Hahaha…
I should’ve put a disclaimer for all of you who have to share actual walls with people. And buy him a pair of headphones. ;)
I hear the neighbors below me having sex…yup and the guy who shares the wall to my bedroom sleeps through his alarm clock. I also woke up today to the lovely smell of cigarettes seeping up from the guy below me. At least I rent and I know that one day all of this will end.
None of you are making me miss apartments. And the cigarette smell would be worse than hearing the sex. Next time you hear them having sex, start playing some really loud 90’s sexy sax music, like Kenny G. It will be funny.
You have something they don’t – Dogs – that probably enjoy getting up early and playing outside. I’m sure you can entice some incessant 6am barking just for kicks :)
Oh I don’t have to entice it. It happens. Though I stop them immediately, because I’m not *that* neighbor. ;)
What happens when your a forty-something with the mind of a twenty-something? It’s like a boss of mine used to say, “My hardware can’t keep up with my software.” Which is a fitting quote from him as he was an fifty-something engineer :-).
Ha! I tell you what happens when I get there, because I’m sure that will be the case for me as well. :)
Wait…do we have the same neighbor!?!?
If so, let’s make a plan to steal those orange Adirondack chairs. I want ’em.
I can’t even lie, we’re the annoying neighbors in our ‘hood. Well, except the one we suspect is a drug dealer — but even he’s fairly quiet and polite, whereas I regularly dump our cooler water off near the sidewalk.
So we’re worse than the drug dealer. Yep, that’s us.
You dump water? In the street??! Which should never ever get wet??? ;)
As long as we don’t share a wall with them, I’m okay. I just don’t like them because they remind me that I’m getting older. But I DO like them because they remind me I’ve come a long way. Like, when I get loud and drunk, at least I’m drinking the good stuff. :)
Oh, they sound delightful. I’m lucky enough to live in a quiet building/neighbourhood now.
I used to live in a place though, where one of the neighbours had some kind of chronic lung thing going on and had the most disgusting constant cough. It was really gross and it was all the time and I felt horrible, because I had no idea who this person was, and yet I kind of hoped he’d just die already. And then one day he stopped, and then I felt REALLY bad, because maybe he did and maybe it was my fault for wishing it on him.
I lived in another place where there was this guy who maybe didn’t live there or maybe was just useless at remembering his keys, but he’d show up at all hours of the night and yell from the street, “Mona! Throw down the keys! Mona!” It was probably three or fours times a week.
And then there was Mexico, which I think trained me to sleep through anything, because we lived next to the cathedral, with bells that went off every 15 minutes. And there were roosters, who no, do not just make noise when the sun comes up. And there were midnight mariachis and there were old ladies who played a version of bingo on the street outside our apartment from 12-3 every Saturday night.
You just gave me my excuse for more travel — I NEED to do it so I get used to sleeping in noisy places!!
Whenever I find myself getting irritated with someone who can’t help it (like cough guy), I always try to remind myself that it could be worse — I could BE cough guy. Or when I’m stuck in a horrific traffic jam? I could BE the person in the accident holding it up. That kind of thing. But the key guy? The key guy I’d punch.
You’re a better person than me. :)
Doubtful. ;)
You are such an amazing writer Katie and so humble! I would have 1% of the patience you have and I guess after crossing the age of 35 I’m just not nice about these neighborly sort of things. This reminds me of the first town home experience Paul and I had, freshly married and in our first year of marriage. Our first year was the hardest and I honestly think it would have been much better had we gotten sleep. But no such luck when sharing the wall with Carmen the Shihtzu. The college age owner named her after Carmen Electra and we never saw Carmen without a Gadzook doggie outfit on. I’m drawing the picture, right? Well when Carmen’s owner would leave at 1:00 in the morning Carmen felt the need to bark until she returned…which was 6:00 am usually. We had many a confrontation and thankfully Carmen’s mom tried many solutions…including Prozac for Carmen. The solution was some electronic gadget that plugged in the wall and when Carmen barked apparently the gadget made a high pitch sound that only Carmen could hear. So what is the solution for you and the ‘like 5’ college boys next door? Surly there has to be something you can plug in an outlet in today’s age of technology to make them more well behaved:)
HA! Seriously, all of these comments from people who share walls with others make me realize I would NOT be as patient or understand if the boys and I didn’t have a brick wall and several feet of yard between us. A barking dog from 1-6 a.m.? NOT okay! And you have me seriously thinking about stopping them technologically to avoid a confrontation… maybe fake police lights and sirens? Or how about shock collars?
Feeling a million dollar idea in the works… :)
due to an unfortunate series of events involving blown up radiators and broken boilers, i have to move apartments ASAP. this post and the comments have given me sound rationale to look for a single family home or at the very least, a duplex where i’m the UP unit, versus the hell that is shared walls in an apartment complex.
Noooo! That sounds miserable. But, yes. If you can manage to have less shared walls with your neighbors, chances are you will have less headaches/strange noises/bad smells to deal with in your future. :)
Good Post Katie. Made me think the Elmo song from a Sesame Street video we played for kids incessantly: “5, no jive” “5 fingers on my hand, 5 in the sand, 5 on a clock, 5 in my sock…” Anyway, I digress. Yes, sometimes it’s nice to be reminded about moving on from one age, because at 20, you didn’t necessarily know that there would be an amazing Brunello Red that you’d one day covet tasting, or that designing/decorating a new space would tickle your creative juices. Now, it I could just get over the wrinkles of 40’s and anticipate what might tickle me next…
Hey, we’ve EARNED those wrinkles. It’s the shiny gray “tinsel hairs” that keep sprouting out of the top of my head that have me most concerned at the moment. We didn’t budget for hair coloring when we moved. ;)
speak for yourself about the grey hairs…haven’t seen any yet! highlights do wonders. btw, I liked the rhythm and cadence of this sentence,
” Lying in bed, I begin to drift off to the lull of my own mediocrity, the erratic rhythm of your party a lullaby, matching — beat for beat — the nervous pulse of my own restless mind.”
Also the fact that you’re blonde! ;) And thank you. :)
You are amaze balls. I feel like if you were my neighbor we would be friends. I have some thumping in my neighbor hood as well. Thankfully it’s not close enough to drive me to insanity. I do worry when the older people around me move though….. Yikes!
Aw, thanks! Last night was a little irritating. We got snow, which is a rarity here in the tidewater region of Virginia, and I woke up to shouts of merriment at 1:30 in the morning as they played in it. But then I thought, there are worse sounds to wake up to than sounds of merriment. :) I hope, for your sake, that your old neighbors live forever! ;)
Your neighbors and my neighbors should get together and have a party. (Wait, just kidding… that’s a terrible idea.) I often find myself sitting in my living room, with wine and a book, wondering HOW they make the amount of noise I hear over my head every night, and if I could make that kind of noise if I tried. I’m sure I was that noisy at some point in my life, but I’m all about the quiet wine and early nights these days. (And i’m still in my twenties!)
Loved this, as usual.
You know, I didn’t realize quite how lucky I was for the last 6 years when I had awesome neighbors. (Well, an empty lot to the left, neighbors I never saw to the right, and the kind who would loan us tools/watch our dogs/pretty much do anything to help right across the street.) I still think we’re pretty lucky here, with the exception of the “like 5” boys next door and the “like 5 more” in the house right across the street. And actually, the ones across the street are pretty quiet. But they’re rental houses, so I’m sure we’ll get a different batch every year.
Anyway, yes. Wine = good time. And if I’m feeling social, wine + great company + excellent food is my idea of the best night. :)
Ya know, it amazes me that I am not the only one with crazy neighbors! My husband and I moved into a nice planned community with tons of amenities almost 10 years ago, and have watched as things have just gone….sideways. Our neighbors on each side are renters. One family has six kids (six years to 18 years), yet not one can mow the grass! My lawn guy has cut their tiny front yard out of sympathy more than once. The other side can’t remember to take out their garbage, which sits in the six foot lawn between our houses. Since we are in tropical Florida, I always worry about rodents, snakes and other critters. Not to mention that even though our houses are so close, our neighbors want to have chickens! They go through dogs as often as we change our clothes so I can’t wait to see the chicken! I’ve thought of suggesting a goat just to mow the grass! Yes, we have an HOA, and I speak with them frequently. I could say so much more, but you know…. Yes, I should move, but I like my home and the pool, golf course, bike trails, shops, not to mention, thanks to the real estate market I am still upside down. Love your blog, thanks for sharing!
Ugh, it’s rough when there are renters. I know this because I’ve been a renter plenty of times. In fact, I prefer it, because you just don’t have to care about the house! Even if a renter is a generally clean person, the fact of the matter is that they’re just not going to keep up with the maintenance on a house like a person who owns it. Why would they? And I hate being the kind of person who cares about what my neighbors are doing (to each their own, right?), yet at the same time, the way their home looks affects my re-sale value. It’s unfortunate it has to work that way, but there it is. So I feel your pain.
I have to say, though – the chickens might not be so bad if they’re willing to share the eggs with you. Fresh chicken eggs are the best!! Though if they have dogs, I’m not sure the addition of chickens will make for a harmonious household. Also, make sure they don’t get a rooster. THAT’S a whole other ballgame. ;)
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