I have new neighbors!

I found out at 6:00pm when suddenly the sound of bass came pounding through my wall. I shrugged and gave it thirty minutes, then walked next door.

I explained to the young woman (in a sari) that her bass was rattling my bar ware. She said she would turn it down, and I left. She did turn the music down, but the bass was still pounding.

Okay, they just moved in— so I thought I’d give them a break. After several hours, I realized that no one could have the bass that loud and not know it, so when the clock struck ten, I called the police. Actually I believe I showed great restraint. Hooray for me.

The police did their duty and the music stopped. Ah, sweet bliss! Then much to my surprise, five minutes later, there cam a loud knock on my door.

“I am your new neighbor, Dr. (let’s call him Pompous- Ass). I understand my music is bothering you.”

“It’s not the music; it’s the bone-pounding bass. I thought head-bangers had moved in.” A little levity should relieve the uncomfortable situation, I thought.

“I have a new stereo system and I have to get used to it.”

“Cool, just turn down the bass,” I said figuring we were through, but nooooooo.

“If it’s too loud, just come over and tell me. Isn’t that easy?”

“Apparently not. I asked your wife to turn it down and three hours later I had to call the police.”

“It’s a new system. It took me a half a day to figure out how to turn on the television,” he said in a weirdly smarmy manner.

“Really? It took my lab puppy about three second to learn how to turn on the television, by accidentally stepping on the remote.” Well, I thought it was funny.

“I’m a doctor!” he said in a huff.

“And your point, is?” I was growing weary his attitude by now.

“I’m a doctor and I work much longer hours than you do….”

“Oh, don’t even go there,” I said as I felt my blood pressure rising. “You have no idea of what hours I work.”

“Ten o’clock is very early for a weekend party, and we have a lot of parties, you’ll just have to…..”

“I don’t give a shit if you party like it’s 1980 all week long, as long as I don’t have to hear it. What part of this is not clear to you?”

“I’m a doctor and I’ve worked with people like you before, and I…” he began in a high pitched voice.

“Well, I’ve worked with some pompous Brahmans like you before and the only reason they’re even in this country, is that they work cheap.” Cheap shot, but he deserved it.

“I have the right to enjoy my music!”

“Agreed, but your rights end where mine begin. Dude, just deep your damned bass down or I’ll call the police. It’s as easy as that.” With that I closed the door on Dr. Pompous-Ass.

What a dick!