Saturday, September 17, 2011

I hate my next door neighbors

I have houses on either side of mine.  On one side is a pair of DO students that also go to WesternU.  They're awesome.  They're not the problem.  On the north side of my house, are the most inconsiderate assholes ever.  I don't know if they run a chop shop, a repair business, or what, but they're always bringing different cars to their back yard, and working on them.  I don't mind the power tools so much, but what I do mind are the car stereos.  Whenever they get a car with a decent stereo, they play it as loud as it will go, less than 10 feet from my side windows.  It shakes my entire house, I can't concentrate, and their taste in music is godawful.  It ranges from mariachi to rap to buttrock.  I swear, there's a rule somewhere that the worse your music is, the more you have to force it on other people, as loudly as possible. 

Since Tyler's non-confrontational, he's pretty much talked me out of every solution I've come up with to the problem.  Call the cops?  Nope, he doesn't think it's fair without talking to them first.  Talk to them first?  They don't speak english, and he doesn't want to be the one to try to talk to them.  Use the plans I found online to build a homemade EMP gun out of an old microwave, and fry their electronics?  Probably illegal.  Launch dog poop over the fence until they turn it down?  He doesn't want to make enemies.  Re-name our wireless network to "the people at X address are horrible neighbors with shitty taste in music?  They're probably too ghetto to have a computer.  Hook up the ukulele to the amp outside, and play it non-stop until they turn down their crap?  Don't want to annoy the good neighbors.  Sit here and seethe while being unable to think due to the bass vibrations?  Sure, that's a good solution.  Aargh!

Update:  Tyler finally waited outside until there was a break in a song.  As soon as there was a quiet moment, he started chewing the neighbor out.  There's blissful quiet now (and they actually apologized.  I don't believe it was a sincere apology, but whatever).  We also talked to the good neighbors on the other side.  They're trying to study for a cardiology test, and they're less patient than us.  Apparently, they called the cops 4 times today because of the music.  Guess who never even showed up once?  Apparently in Pomona, having Colorado plates is a good reason for police to pull you over, you'll get chewed out for calling the police on a drunk driver that's trying to drive away after hitting your car, and 3 hours of over 120 decibles is A-OK.  And California natives wonder why those of us who moved from other parts of the country don't like it here.  It's because living in Pomona is barely a step up from living in Walmart.

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