Saturday, 24 July 2010
Dear number 8.
It's me from number 10. I know we've never been properly introduced, but trust me when I say I know you very well. I do believe we have certain matters to discuss.
Now it occurs to me that there are several things about our homes that you don't seem to realise. I for one have long accepted that our walls are paper-thin, and I may be able to hear noise from both you and number 12 depending on which room I'm in, but I can live with that. However, instead of blaming the architect, or the builders who constructed this street many years ago, you immediately assume it's our fault.
You're so very quick to call the landlady at 2 in the morning whenever my flatmate has friends around, or whenever I'm watching television at a reasonable volume with the windows open. It does get a little stuffy in my room sometimes, and a bit of fresh air does me the world of good. Yet you are prepared to deprive me of that because you can hear it from your adjacent window? How about turning on your own fucking TV and seeing if I give a shit? You even find the need to make complaints to my land baron about noise in the street. Let me tell you something woman, I'm not renting the street, the street is public domain. That's not my responsibility.
I've just recently moved into this street from Jesmond. The vast majority of houses in Jesmond are filled with students, and they do make a lot of noise on the weekends. They've had a long week of lectures and coursework, and they like to unwind when it's all over. I can understand that, of course they made noise, but I've developed a little mindset known as patience.
Patience entails not running to the teacher and telling on someone, mainly due to the understanding that said someone has a social life, something that you craggedy old fuckers don't seem to possess. I know it, my flatmates know it, the street knows it, even the fucking police know it. Still on a weekly basis you feel the need to pull them away from patrolling the streets, and keeping the neighbourhood safe to send them over to our house so we can talk with them about how fucking stupid you are.
Maybe you'd get to sleep a lot easier if you didn't spend your evenings standing by the window waiting for something to complain about. If you disapprove of your neighbours making sounds at various points in the night, I suggest moving in next door to a mute, or preferably to the middle of nowhere.