Dear Neighbor,
I would like to think that we have been coexisting peacefully until recently. I don’t speak to you, and you don’t speak to me; it’s almost as if we don’t even know the other person exists. I am absolutely happy with this, believe me. I do my part in making sure that this relationship continues smoothly. I am sure you’ve come up with random theories about me because I rarely move my car and when I do it’s at odd hours of the night. Or maybe you think I’m a morbidly obese shut-in, who’s only visitors are Domino’s delivery drivers. I’m perfectly fine with those assumptions. If I didn’t know myself and the fact that I work from home and hate to cook, I probably would have come to the same conclusions. Hey, I even have some far-out theories about you too. For example, I can’t figure it out just yet, but I’m pretty sure you will end up on an episode of "Snapped" or one of those shows on Investigation Discovery.
However, I’m not writing you to discuss each other’s oddities. I’m writing you because you have not been doing your fair share in keeping our relationship smooth and contactless. Lately, you have been violating our unspoken code of non-existence, and frankly, it is pissing me off. I’m starting to wonder if I will be joining you on one of those shows I mentioned. I am basically the perfect neighbor. I’m quiet, no parties, no excessively loud music or television. I don’t complain when you ignore your dog’s desperate pleas to be taken to the bathroom at six am every day. I say nothing about the annoying beeping sounds that drift through the walls and disturb my peace. Hell, I don’t even complain when the guy next door makes diarrhea soup, and I come home and briefly panic because I think the sewage has backed up and flowed onto my bathroom floor.
No, I just turn on my Glade warmer and wait for the Blooming Peony and Cherry scent to overpower the smell of boiling bodies, and glibly wonder if this is what Jeffrey Dahmer’s neighbors had to put up with. I put up with these annoyances because I expect you to keep up our bond of non-interaction. As of late, your behaviors have been down right inconsiderate and would drive any reasonable person to violence. This letter is my attempt to get you to stop, or at least modify your behaviors.
You live above me, so I can hear your every movement. I know when you go to the bathroom when you leave your apartment, and when you go out on your balcony to have the same played out discussion “If he treats me this way it’s clear he doesn’t know anything about love, blah blah blah." Oddly this doesn’t even phase me. I just consider it as part of my day.
My beef with you is NOT about you stomping around your apartment or vacuuming at ridiculous hours. What pisses me off and makes me wish I has access to a rocket launcher, is your loud and horribly off beat sex. If you had sex during the day or even during the early evening, I wouldn’t care. BUT when you bump uglies at one or two o’clock in the morning, INTERRUPTING my precious slumber, mere moments after I have fallen asleep, THAT IS JUST TRAITOROUS and completely unforgivable. The quickest way to make me angry is to mess with my food, family, money, and sleep. (Don’t believe me? Ask the three people that had to hold me back from whooping this girl’s ass at lunch over prom money.)
Not only am I subjected to the sound of a squeaky bed and the headboard banging against the wall, but I also have to listen to your Velociraptor sounding moans and screams. In fact, the first time this happened I just assumed you were having a "Jurassic Park" marathon. Go ahead, say I’m only complaining because I’m not the one having sex; say I’m jealous. It would be a reasonable conclusion to jump to, although it would be incorrect. Why would I be jealous of sex that sounds so spastic and clearly lacks rhythm? Your sex is what I imagine sex between Timmy from "South Park" and Drake on "Degrassi" would sound like.
No, no, no don’t flatter yourself, dear. I am not envious of you. I’ve come to loathe your very existence. Have you seen the serious effects of sleep deprivation? Did you know that sleep deprivation can lead people to falsely confess to crimes? (Although that might actually benefit me if you continue your "Jurassic Park" mating rituals). You and your dinosaur lover are depriving me of sleep. This is a very serious issue, especially because I only get four to five hours of sleep per night with the help of sleep aids. Your hour to two hours’ sex sessions which come in five to ten-minute intervals is DRASTICALLY reducing my ability to function.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking you to stop having sex. I’m asking you to stop doing it so loudly. If you can’t afford a better bed, then invest in a ball and gag, or try having sex on the floor, in the kitchen or even the living room. There are plenty of ways for you to have sex that doesn't include a rickety bed and interrupting the few hours a day my body gets to recharge.
I’m writing you this letter to you as an olive branch in hopes of rekindling our relationship of non-existence. Know that if you choose to ignore my letter, I have already confirmed that I can file a noise complaint against you with the apartment complex. I’ve also verified that if I was to call the after hours phone number, they would dispatch someone out to your apartment and request that you keep it down. SO, unless you want frequent visits from the courtesy officers and for noise violations to pile up in your file (too many noise violations can be used as grounds for eviction), I suggest turning it down a notch or ten. And yes, I have absolutely no problem being “THAT GUY.” Self-preservation is key.
Sleep Deprived and Annoyed your neighbor,
Captain Iam Petty Donttryme
6969 Floor Sex Dr Apt. 903R
Required, FLOORida, 39874
