The assholes downstairs have never lived away from their mommies. Now that they are big grown-ups they can play their music as loud and as late as they want with no repercussions. Except for me.
They party like kids do (I'm so old, calling them kids), whooping when the music gets extra awesome.
I have asked them to turn it down in the past, the effect lasts only as long as their tiny minds can retain the thought.
I have no problem with them having a good time, but past 2 am it starts to wear on me. It kept going till 5:30 am, at which point they decided to watch a stand-up special at the same volume till about six.
I waited a little bit.
At 7:30 am I put on some tunes of my own.
I inherited this insane asshole gene from my father, it can be ugly, but it can also be incredibly useful.
Hip hop fans hate Death Cab for Cutie, and Radiohead, it baffles them. So those tunes became the foundation for my "Fuck you douches" playlist. Oops! The subwoofer seems to have tipped over and is now facing the floor and the bass is up to 11.
It had the desired effect of pissing them off enough bang on the locked outer door and then to call my brother (who isn't even home).
I enjoy a cup of coffee sweetened with vengeance.