Isn't it a pity that you can't choose your neighbours? We lucked out in Provo and had wonderful neighbours - the invite-you-over-for-a-BBQ, dinner dates, willing-to-share-a-cup-of-sugar, understanding-when-you-cause-a-flood-that-leaks-into-their-apartment kind of neighbours. Our neighbours here in Las Vegas have a hard time returning a wave or a "hi".That used to be the least of our concerns. If I could travel back in time a few months, I'd tell younger Michelle that it's much better not to hear from your neighbours...Upon moving to Vegas, I must admit that the gated community and private driveway lined with palm trees led me to believe that we were living beyond our means, amongst classy, lavish, glamorous Las Vegans who drove equally classy, lavish and glamorous vehicles. Wrong-O.
Enter squirrely-looking kid with a yippity dog. He moved in next door and was relatively pleasant (relative to our last neighbours who refused to acknowledge us) and we thought life with a friendly neighbour would be great. Fast forward 3 months of wall-shaking bass, yippity dog and drunken girls banging and kicking his front door (which sits beneath our bedroom window - I know, the layout is weird) at 4:00 AM mid-week. Not exactly what we had hoped for.
We know he works, but what exactly his does to pay his bills, we're unsure of. All we know is he likes to host out-of-control parties on Thursday and Sunday nights, so his schedule is less-than-conventional. These parties always involve obnoxious, scantily clad girls who consistently arrive in the wee hours of the morning. They're either not invited, or don't know when the parties start because the door is always locked when they arrive and no amount of screaming, kicking or pounding on the door can rise above the sound of this guy's sub-woofers to get his attention, no matter how long they try - and they're persistent. We have our theories on how he makes his living, but pimps don't usually carry business cards, so we haven't confirmed anything yet...
Now I know we're unconventional and don't live the crazy, Vegas life, and I've been very accepting to this point of those that do (so please don't judge me just yet for what is about to happen). But isn't that what The Strip is for? Don't bring it home, and during the week when you share paper-thin walls with multiple strangers. Is that too much to ask?
Buddy thought I was overreacting when I threatened to call the police on one particular Friday morning at 3:00 AM when the music woke us up and began shaking the apartment. I had gone to the front door with the intention of politely asking him to turn his music off (after putting a sweater on to mask the fact that I was wearing my flannel pajama set that makes me look 10 years old). Unfortunately, as demonstrated earlier by some of his "friends", it was impossible to hear me over the music. So, in a tornado of anger (remember, this has been going on for months) I called the police station to report excessive noise. Turns out I was the last of multiple neighbours to report the incident, and coppers were already on their way. Vindicated! I wasn't alone in my rage! But, 5 minutes after his first visit from the LVPD at 3:15, he turned the music back on, resulting in one of our neighbours calling back to report him again. You'd think that after another cop visiting at 3:45 and threatening him with eviction and a hefty fine of $850, he'd wise up and turn it off. Wrong. Five minutes later, sub-woofer central. The cajones on this guy! So, one of our neighbours is pressing charges for disturbing the peace! I don't know whether or not the police were called a third time, because we were so exhausted we slept like logs for the hour-and-a-half before we had to get up. We have since moved our bed across the room to the wall we don't share in hopes that it might help a bit. Juicy stuff, no?
So, to sum up. We miss you, Lorenzens, Criddles, Rudds, Seegmillers & Wilkinsons!
In other juicy news, I got my pupils dilated at the eye doctor earlier this week and couldn't resist taking a pictures of the creepiness:
But, the excitement doesn't stop there (I know, we're so lame)! As a Graduate Assistant, Buddy helped out with grad student application interviews the morning we blew the Case of the Noisy Neighbour wide open. Fittingly, he wore the infamous brown suit that landed him the acceptance to UNLV two years ago. He looks a little less enthused this year, and the suit fits a little more snugly this time around, but the pictures have at least one thing in common: he hated me taking both of them.
By the way, no major updates on Furry February. It's too soon to tell. And I must ask...despite the fact that my phone call wasn't the one that actually got the police there, did I overreact? Honesty (but not brutal honesty) is appreciated.
Enter squirrely-looking kid with a yippity dog. He moved in next door and was relatively pleasant (relative to our last neighbours who refused to acknowledge us) and we thought life with a friendly neighbour would be great. Fast forward 3 months of wall-shaking bass, yippity dog and drunken girls banging and kicking his front door (which sits beneath our bedroom window - I know, the layout is weird) at 4:00 AM mid-week. Not exactly what we had hoped for.We know he works, but what exactly his does to pay his bills, we're unsure of. All we know is he likes to host out-of-control parties on Thursday and Sunday nights, so his schedule is less-than-conventional. These parties always involve obnoxious, scantily clad girls who consistently arrive in the wee hours of the morning. They're either not invited, or don't know when the parties start because the door is always locked when they arrive and no amount of screaming, kicking or pounding on the door can rise above the sound of this guy's sub-woofers to get his attention, no matter how long they try - and they're persistent. We have our theories on how he makes his living, but pimps don't usually carry business cards, so we haven't confirmed anything yet...
Now I know we're unconventional and don't live the crazy, Vegas life, and I've been very accepting to this point of those that do (so please don't judge me just yet for what is about to happen). But isn't that what The Strip is for? Don't bring it home, and during the week when you share paper-thin walls with multiple strangers. Is that too much to ask?Buddy thought I was overreacting when I threatened to call the police on one particular Friday morning at 3:00 AM when the music woke us up and began shaking the apartment. I had gone to the front door with the intention of politely asking him to turn his music off (after putting a sweater on to mask the fact that I was wearing my flannel pajama set that makes me look 10 years old). Unfortunately, as demonstrated earlier by some of his "friends", it was impossible to hear me over the music. So, in a tornado of anger (remember, this has been going on for months) I called the police station to report excessive noise. Turns out I was the last of multiple neighbours to report the incident, and coppers were already on their way. Vindicated! I wasn't alone in my rage! But, 5 minutes after his first visit from the LVPD at 3:15, he turned the music back on, resulting in one of our neighbours calling back to report him again. You'd think that after another cop visiting at 3:45 and threatening him with eviction and a hefty fine of $850, he'd wise up and turn it off. Wrong. Five minutes later, sub-woofer central. The cajones on this guy! So, one of our neighbours is pressing charges for disturbing the peace! I don't know whether or not the police were called a third time, because we were so exhausted we slept like logs for the hour-and-a-half before we had to get up. We have since moved our bed across the room to the wall we don't share in hopes that it might help a bit. Juicy stuff, no?
So, to sum up. We miss you, Lorenzens, Criddles, Rudds, Seegmillers & Wilkinsons!
In other juicy news, I got my pupils dilated at the eye doctor earlier this week and couldn't resist taking a pictures of the creepiness:
But, the excitement doesn't stop there (I know, we're so lame)! As a Graduate Assistant, Buddy helped out with grad student application interviews the morning we blew the Case of the Noisy Neighbour wide open. Fittingly, he wore the infamous brown suit that landed him the acceptance to UNLV two years ago. He looks a little less enthused this year, and the suit fits a little more snugly this time around, but the pictures have at least one thing in common: he hated me taking both of them.
By the way, no major updates on Furry February. It's too soon to tell. And I must ask...despite the fact that my phone call wasn't the one that actually got the police there, did I overreact? Honesty (but not brutal honesty) is appreciated.
8 pennies for your thoughts:
You made Joe and I laugh once again. You have a knack for telling stories. Even though you were probably furious for losing sleep (and justifiably so) we enjoyed the narrative. You were great neighbors too. I've never had the gumption to ask anyone else if my husband could fry hamburger in their kitchen.
Not overreacting at all, Michelle!!! Andrew and I have the same problem with some neighbours. Heck - we didn't even try to knock on their door to ask them to be quiet. We just called the police because REALLY?? Other people are trying to sleep and be normal! Good for you for calling. You obviously weren't alone in your anger.
you were totally justified. those neighbors are crazy. i guess everyone in vegas gets to deal with the loud obnoxious neighbors!!
Michelle, you really are quite the story teller! That is horrible. I'm always too much of a chicken to call the police, but way to be tough. I didn't need to watch the super bowl today because neighbors to the right being loud meant the Saints were doing well, neighbors to the left being loud meant the Colts were doing well. Noise to the right continues... Saints must have won.
we didn't make the list of good neighbors... i'm just hoping we didn't make the bad list... uh-oh...
if we did we'd like to give it another shot now that we live in the same city we're sort of neighbors again, right?
p.s. our new vegas right next door neighbors don't like us either. luckily all the other ones in the neighborhood that we've met seem great.
Brutal honesty (even though specificlally unrequested): No. And to the other question, I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to be your neighbor!!!!!
You were totally justified!!! We've called the police many times when we were apt. dwellers. Good for you and good for your other "normal" neighbors for calling too!
The Morrell's whole heartedly support your anti-neighbor activites. We too struggle with neighbor noise. Ours however tend to be in the pre-pubescent age group with vocals ranging from wall shaking loud to...louder. We adore him too. So you call those po-pos and give a little grief to him. Then go buy a house next door to us. We'll be good neighbors. I'm just saying.
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