Peanut's Has Been Drinking

We've had some pretty interesting neighbors in our day. It always makes for lively conversation, but my one complaint is the timing. I've coined a new phrase tonight:

“When the sun goes down for the day, the quacks come out to play.”


See I'm a parent of three young children, I go to bed early, so anything past 9PM bugs me. I'm the type of woman who wants to know who in their right mind is calling me at 10:30PM


So when that lady next door played her music at 1AM. The bass vibrating my bed and her shrill voice singing “IF I COULD TURRRRRRN BAAAACK TIIIMEEE! IF I COULD FIIINNND A WAY!” I could honestly say to my husband (as I lay staring wide eyed at my ceiling), “I usually like this song.”


And then there is the litany of midnight (or later) visitor's, always accompanied by the ominous knocking at the door.


KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK: “Is Fred here?... No?....Sorry man, I guess I got the wrong condo.”


KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK: “Hi, my name is Officer Smith. Did you give a man by the name of Bullwinkle permission to ride your motorcycle?... No?.... How about a John Doe?” (that's really the names they gave, btw)


KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK: “Can you call 911 for me, I can't remember where I live.” (this was my one and only time I was dumb enough to open the door myself... I got a pretty big talking to after that)


But tonight takes the yearly cake, tonight was our current neighbor's (who is known to all as merely Peanuts) crowning moment. He was drunk... again... and his friends were over... again.


We timed it tonight and got an approximate 40 minutes of intermittent shouting culminating into a grand total of 10 minutes of full on screaming, with the 'F' word at it's height of use, more than 2 every second (we're talking amongst the five of six people involved).


Now he's outside shouting and wanting to know which neighbor called the cops on him (I'm betting on the little old lady across the street). Ah Peanuts, you deserve a blog to yourself. Alas, all I can give you is some small paragraph's near the end.


The world should honor you for naming your dog, 'HOOTIE! HOOTIE GET BACK HERE!' They should know your views on men who let their children be afraid of dogs, or how proud you are of that criminal record, but most importantly, they should know, that no matter what you do... it's your damn house and why should anyone call the cops on you for what you do in it.


So who knows what tomorrow night may bring to our little corner of the world, but I say take the quacks somewhere else cause we've gotten our fair share.

Comments

Unknown said…
Isn't that how neighbors are supposed to act? Where I'm from that is the regular past-time drinking and shouting.

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