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Ding-dong ditch

Any legitimate plot for revenge should include a good old ding-dong ditch. And this one did...


After 2 1/2 teaspoons of NyQuil (directions say 2 but I figure I should make it worth my while) I was nestled in my bed, enjoying my recently dry-cleaned duvet like any lady would. Given the circumstances, I planned on upwards of 8 glorious hours of sleep. I'm a firm believer in a 1 to 1 ratio as far as sleep and work time are concerned.

Around 3:15 this morning an unusual (unless you live in my awesome apartment building) scene woke me...and it was a scene. Somebody was putting on quite a show, and the soundtrack was unlike one I have ever heard...especially directly above my head. While I did NOT care to entertain any thoughts or visions of what was occurring a vinyl floor away, the 5-7 silent minutes between sessions, did lead me to conclude a few things:


  • My upstairs neighbor apparently moonlights as a porn star

  • No matter what situation I'm in (or situation I'm forced to be in) I cannot escape Adelle's "Someone like You." Yes that's right, the latest hit was played at its peak volume during what I'm assuming was another peak of sorts.

  • Dogs have a keen sense of hearing...and respond to human howling, with more howling

  • I am willing to get out of bed, take out my retainer (whatever, my teeth are still straight), put on clothes, and storm up a flight of stairs to pound on a door and yell at a stranger, if bothered enough.
Since my door pounds and call to the police didn't do the trick (yes, it was so relentless that it necessitated an attempt to involve San Diego's finest) I did the next best thing- angry note. NOT the kind you leave on dirty college roommates' dishes, an even angrier note.



On my way to work I took my note (which was actually purple stationary with a cat on the right bottom corner, neither here nor there), taped it to the door, and since I assumed they were finally asleep....banged on the door as loud as I could! And ran to my car, to speed away.

My boldness from the twilight had passed, and now my left-over rage left me to nothing else but a Ding-dong ditch, OB style...we don't have door bells.



Angry note/DDD sent the message I was hoping for. The Star came down (to speak with my roommate who unfortunately was still home and getting ready) and fell all over herself apologizing. There was some excuse about "getting drunk and letting loose" (no fricken kidding) and then she cried.


That's right.


I think I made my point.


And like my angry note said...


"Have a little respect" -Downstairs

Comments

Unknown said…
OMG this is the funniest apartment story I've heard in a while! Nice work on the dashing and letting your roommate take the fall :)
November 15, 2011 at 6:04 PM
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