During the 3-day weekend, my next door neighbor played a lot of music through the afternoon and early evening. It was at a low volume, so no problem. On the third day, however, the volume was blasted to an insane level. The weather was pleasant enough that I had my windows open to enjoy the breeze. I know he drinks heavily, and trying to reason with a drinker is like trying to get grammar cops to ignore errant apostrophes, so I merely closed my windows and weathered the binge. I know from dealing with him in the past that a knock on his door wouldn’t have ended well (we’ve been neighbors for 18 years), and it wasn’t a matter that required law enforcement intervention. Half an hour later, it was over as he turned off the music on his own.
I have never placed him nor any other neighbors of mine in that situation.
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Stinking up the neighborhood with the smell of weed.
We have neighbors who themselves are lovely people, but they have a couple of [spoiled] teenage daughters who burn the hippy lettuce like a house afire whenever mom and dad step out. Typically I don’t care if folks get high, but when clouds of smokey skunk waft across our veranda, it just stops being funny after awhile.
What is funny is my wife’s parents tend toward a brand of loud puritanism when it comes recreational drug use, but stoke them up on an afternoon of rum punch (and, I would suggest, a contact high from the reefer sisters’ exhaust stream) and their moaning about the aroma always seems to work itself out. That, and the weather is better here than up at their place in Tennessee.
