ok. background information: this is an article about the city i live in. go ahead. read it.
- my husband and i do not belong to this scene at all!
- we live within a couple of blocks of the most crowded (and noisy) bars.
- all our neighbors are extremely noisy drunks.
so why is it MY problem that they’re drunks?
(before i start, i must say that my husband and i are both aware that the only way to avoid this situation is to remove ourselves from it; i.e., to move out, far and away from this zoo. we’re already working on that).
anyway, combining the 3 facts above results in sleepless nights and the uncomfortable feeling that we live in the slums. (fights, screams, loud yelling, slaps, laughs, people barfing and falling, and just being plain LOUD ).
there are two parts to this post title. let’s look at them one at a time:
- keep the bars open
- “what are you babbling about?”
after the first few sleepless nights and full enjoyment of the best of soap opera drama, cortesy of my neighbors, without even having to turn the TV on, i notice that the ‘action’ always starts at or around 2 o’clock in the morning. so i come to learn that the bars close at 2 am. then everyone in the bar decides to go home and continue to party. so i ask: why not keep the effin’ bars open? i don’t understand. this is the kind of thing that keeps me awake even after all of them have already passed out or gone into alcoholic comatose, which at least brings silence. (unless they choke in their puke, of course). still, i can’t sleep anymore.
// end rant
now this one is funny. last night the drama was at full blast. it started at 1:30. they were a bit early; the bar probably ran out of alcohol, or something. at around 2:15 these two guys tumble (literally) down the stairs from the roof, and lean on the wall next to my window. they start (loudly) talking drunk talk; a review of techniques to a perfect standing up position, how to barf, where are we, what time is it, how did we get here, where is so and so, wtf happened to my foot, where are your front teeth, that kind of thing. so i open the window and say: “this may seem odd to you, but some people actually use the night hours to sleep”; i get a blank stare from the one who’s apparently ‘less drunk’. after a 10-second pause, he says: “what are you babbling about?” and i realise you can’t reason (well, not even talk) with a drunk. i’m wasting my time. so i say “guess there’s no reasoning with a drunk” and close my window. the rest of the night proceeds as expected.
wise teaching from my father: “your rights end where the other person’s rights begin”. maybe i’ll write this on a big sign and post it just outside my window. it won’t change anyone, but at least it’ll make me feel good.