You’ll probably think I’m the worst neighbor but I don’t care. Let me tell you a story. Normally, I’m not a party pooper; I like having a good time as much as the next person but not if it’s going to cost me a good night’s rest. One night, in September or October of last year, my neighbors one street over had a party. I didn’t have a problem since I’m not usually asleep until about 1 a.m., anyway. I figured I’d watch a little Discovery ID until I was ready to go to bed. From what I remember, the party started early; around 8:30 or 9 p.m. I went upstairs to lay down and it seemed the music became louder the later it got. I laid down and told myself the party would die down soon, as it was approaching 12:30 a.m. So, I turned “Mrs. Doubtfire” on and tried to chill. 1 a.m. rolled by and I still heard my neighbors’ guests toasting to this and drinking to that over Swizz Beak’s “Money in the Bank”. I told myself, again, it should start fizzling soon. Guess what? It didn’t. And my window of getting EXACTLY six hours of sleep before work was starting to close. Then 1:45 .a.m. showed up. I’ve never done this before but I had to: I Googled the police department’s number. I sure did call and tell them where the party was. They told me they were sending a car over to check it out. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, that music wasn’t even audible and I swear everyone started whispering. That crap was too funny! I ended up with a little less than six hours of sleep but that was alright. I just wish I could have seen my neighbors’ faces when Mr. Law pulled up, LOL! Yeah, I snitched. But I justify my action with the fact I live in the suburbs; it’s supposed to be quiet here.
Photo Source
