I recently hand wrote a letter to the neighbors living below us and taped it to their door. It went something like this:
I am writing you to apologize for last night. I know that we got too loud for the second week in a row, and a football game is no excuse, especially if you have young children. Please forgive us. I do not want there to be any animosity between us, especially when we live in such close proximity. We will do everything in our power to keep it from happening again, so your family can have a peaceful home. If there is anything we can do for you, please call or text me at 713-xxx-xxxx. You can also email me at email@example.com.
Daniel Moreno, apartment xxxx
The night before, the weather was really nice, so we opened our balcony door instead of using the AC. I sat in the open doorway while I watched the UT-UCLA football game. I had been drinking, and in my excitement for that first touchdown we made, I leapt into the air. I knew immediately this was a mistake. After I reached the peak of my jump, time went in slow motion. I had to somehow figure out how to hit the ground without making a loud noise. I extended my feet to try to cushion the fall. Nope. My heels struck the floor and made a loud thud.
This is such an issue because a couple of weeks earlier during the first UT game of the season, many people came over to my apartment to watch us beat UNT. Still being used to our single story apartment in west campus, we did jump for joy during that game. During the end of that game, a guy from downstairs and politely told us to shut up because he has two kids. He said it sounded like we were playing drums and that is was “just UNT.” He dropped the f-bomb a few times but did not raise his voice. He also talked longer than necessary to get us to be quiet (a simple “keep it down” would have sufficed, but my friend described it as a douchey “soliloquy”). Either way, we knew we were in the wrong, apologized, and moved on.
Now back to the UCLA game. There was silence after my feet landed. I was hoping that the noise maybe wasn’t that loud or that they would forgive one thud. They did not. This time, a woman walked outside beneath our balcony and yelled up at us. It went exactly like this:
Hey you assholes, when you jump, shit falls off my walls.
I immediately yelled back, apologizing. I think I said, “you’re right ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” She had a right to be mad, and we were quiet from then on.
So then I wrote the letter. I wanted them to know that we were sorry and indeed not assholes. I hoped to receive some sort of text or call so I could actually talk to them. Instead, I got an email from the apartment complex about “an increase in community noise complaints.”
Oh well. I tried.
All right. I know that it’s entirely possible that they complained before I posted the letter on their door. Maybe they have made peace and did not tell us. Or maybe they hate us despite my attempt to make peace and are plotting for our destruction. Either way, we’ll keep it down. I don’t want a whole Neighbors thing to go down.