I get that not everyone keeps the same hours as I do. In fact, I get that MOST of the world functions on a Mon-Fri 8-5 schedule. However, it would also behoove people to remember that there are people who work nights and therefore sleep during the day. I mean, who do you think mans that 24 hr gas station/Wal-Mart/diner/hotel or who takes care of patients at night? That’s right…the night shift workers do. And if we work nights, guess when we have to sleep? Duh genius! During the day! That being said, I got some new neighbors in one of the rentals across the street from me and they just happen to be…my favorite…college boys. After all the problems I had last year with the one house full, I was really hoping not to have to encounter the same type of rudeness and disrespect I had encountered before. But then this morning happened.
I came home from work and as usual got ready to go to bed. Why? Because it was 830 in the morning and because I was tired after working a 12 hour night shift. I had just snuggled down in the cool bedroom with rain softly falling outside to sleep in the gloomy darkness, and had closed my eyes when I heard it….the countdown and then a very LOUD very BAD garage band start to wail in the neighborhood. Immediately, my walls were vibrating and freaking out Ms. Ninja Kitten. I sighed, got up, and shut my window in hopes that would be enough to drown out the sounds of what sounded like a poor kitten being tortured. Nope. Didn’t help. I could still hear every obscene word, which should have been my first clue as to what was about to happen. Sighing again, I got up, reluctantly put on my shoes, and went outside to talk to the creators of the strangling monkey sounds that were coming from the garage across the street.
Approaching the boys, I waved politely, smiling through my dog tiredness, and they stopped screeching and making “music” so I could talk to them. Quietly, without anger, I explained to them that I lived across the street and worked nights and was trying to get some sleep so that I could return to the land of Peds that night. I then asked if they could please shut the garage door today while they were practicing to muffle the noise. NOT ONCE did I ask them to stop playing or turn it down. I just asked that the garage door be shut so I could leave my window open as to enjoy the cool air. The conversation then went like this:
Me: “So is that agreeable? Just shut the garage door and I will be able to sleep.”
Cat Strangler #1: “No. We have every right to play right now. It’s after 8 am and we don’t have to be quiet PER THE LAAAAW. Get a fan, bitch.”
Monkey Torturer #2: “Yeah lady. We don’t give a fuck if you are trying to sleep. Get a real fucking job like the rest of the world.”
Me (incredulous): “Well, for your information, I do have a real job. It’s called being a nurse. AND I work nights AND I know the noise ordinance and you are violating it. I am asking nicely for you to just shut the garage door.”
Cat Strangler #1: “You have no idea who you are dealing with right now. We LIVE here. We can do whatever we want.”
Puppy Kicker #3 (finally piping up): “Yeah quit being such a CUNT” (at this word, his “bros” laughed and high-fived each other)
Me (now smiling a smile they should really have been frightened of, channeling my best Scarlett O’Hara going to Miss Melanie’s party in her red dress ): “Ok BOYS….thank you ever so much” At this, I turned and walked to the end of the driveway, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.
As the boys congratulated each other, they did not notice I was on the phone with Flagstaff PD, politely explaining the noise complaint I had. They even were nice enough to begin to torture small animals again for me while I was on the phone and I could say to the dispatcher that yes…that WAS the noise and yes, I was in front of my own house. Call me a bitch fine. Call me a CUNT, and you have no idea what you have just unleashed. Those boys are damn lucky my Bubby is out-of-town training for his new job (YEAH!) or that my cousins do NOT live nearby. In my family, that word is NEVER used and to use it against one of the girls in my family is to unleash the fury of an Irish tight-knit clan that will make you sorry you ever thought the word. Pretty sure. I finished with the dispatcher, hung up the phone an waved in response to their flipping me the bird and screaming new found uses of the C word while I sat on the steps and waited for the PD to show…which they did in about 5 minutes. Needless to say, 15 minutes later and a tongue lashing by the officer with noise ordinance violation tickets in hand, the garage door was shut. The sounds of torture stopped, allowing me to climb into my bed and dream the sleep of sweet revenge. Just you wait boys…just you wait. Don’t piss off this Irish tempered girl because I might just punch you in the taint…or key your car…just saying.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I did meet my new neighbors and learn that their vocabulary is something to be rivaled in the obscenity department, but I didn’t die. I am Fat Girl hating my NEW neighbors who seem to pose as small animal torturers and am contemplating showing SOTL man where they live running. The experiment continues…