Thursday, August 15, 2002
Wow, that was a pointless endeavor. Perhaps if the guy who answered the door hadn't been COMPLETELY INEBRIATED, then I would have seen some results. But then, this is a Wednesday night in an apartment complex in a college town; what did I really expect?
The nauseating smell of cigarettes assaulted my nostrils as soon as the door opened, and the young man who stumbled into the entryway, carrying a bowl of instant ravioli and a spork, blinked a few times. Failing to recognize me, he asked, "Who're you?"
"I'm Teri, I live upstairs--"
"Wellya wanna come in an' join the party?" he asked, a dim-witted expression on his face.
"No, I want you to turn your music down," I said irritatedly, crossing my arms.
"No, y'should come in, have s'm fun."
"No thanks," I answered firmly. "Just please turn the music down. I can feel it vibrating through the floor, it's entirely too loud."
He glanced at me in what I think was meant to be a suggestive manner. "Yeah, yeah, I can turn it down," he slurred. "Come on in -- one female roommate for one notch down on the.. yeah, s' a fair trade, OK?"
I stared. "No, it's NOT OK," I said. "Just turn the music down please."
"Aw, come on," he pressed. I was just thankful he didn't move toward me. "Fair trade. S' capitalism. Come on, what's with the econ'my's low, business's low..."
"Yeah, and your volume should be LOW too. So turn it DOWN," I said with emphasis, although after his senseless drunken diatribe, I realised that my arguments were likely futile.
He blinked again, finally seeming to get the point that I was not at all interested in his little "party". "OK, OK, I'll turn it down," he said, making an odd wiggling motion with his fingers.
"You'll turn it down?" I repeated, in an attempt to ensure he actually remembered what he was supposed do as soon as he closed the door.
"Yeah, I'll turn the... music down," he reassured me, with the same dim-witted smile, and I gave him exasperated thanks. I turned around to head back upstairs and nearly crashed into a girl, who gave me an appraising glance and a frown as she entered the smokey room. I went back to my room, only to discover that, as I expected, there was no decrease in the volume of the music.
And even now, after I've written all this, the music is still vibrating through my floor. I do believe it's time to call the apartments' courtesy guard...
| 12:16 AM |
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Who am I? I'm a twenty-two-
