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Monday, May 16, 2011

Ain't Nothing but a (Box of) Chicken Wing(s)

Posted on Mon, May 16, 2011 at 2:24 PM

So we live in this nice apartment building by the Public Gardens. It's not a cheap place to live, and has VERY specific noise rules. I'm at one end of the fourth floor, you and your college buddies are down at the end and across the hall from you seems to be an apartment full of your female friends.

Ever since you all moved in last fall, your drunken guests yell and are rowdy in the hall in front of my door, waiting for the elevator. I've called security and complained a few times, I've even confronted you guys in the hall but because I would have to get dressed and in the wheelchair to catch up with you, face-to-face doesn't usually happen.

The other night, I got home from a job at midnight. The hallway sounded like a dance club. I went into my place to get the dog to take her out for evening pee and poop. Three of your friends were yelling in the hall and I told them they are keeping people awake. In full yell, they told me "We're leaving now," as if them yelling for awhile and now in the hall is okay, because they are leaving. Another group of five or so of your friends (and you) then left too. The police were called. They went to your door and were going to write you tickets for the noise. The very next time you make a peep, they have you in the computer as noisy neighbours, so it's an automatic ticket.

It's hard to believe you guys act like my building is your personal dormitory. A guy from 3 floors away was down in the lobby. He was the one who called the police. He was REALLY mad. I know you're all in your early 20s and mommy and daddy are paying for your expensive apartment in Halifax, but you dicks have to learn a lesson about respecting other people and their need for quiet.

As I was talking to the police officers, your chicken wings from the double pizza place came. I got your $12 order for 3 bucks. I just finished them, and they were pretty good, for big, juicy, delicious, cheap wings. Please, PLEASE, next time you have a drunken loud party, order a donair and a couple cokes, okay? And BTW, you guys are about to be evicted. —Willy Peter

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