Enjoyment, with the one very large exception of our downstairs neighbor living directly underneath us, "Mr. Party."
Mr. Party is so named because he lives the epitome of a party-lifestyle. Mr. Party is probably in his mid-twenties and we feel fairly certain that he has no job. Mr. Party's pad is where all of Mr. Party's friends like to hang out and be loud--very loud. Mr. Party doesn't just party on the weekends, oh no--he parties all through the weekdays, too, into the wee hours of the morning.
We haven't gotten to know Mr. Party personally, and who knows, he might be a very nice guy. He certainly seems to love to play the host to all his friends when they want to party. But he sure lives a life that is not very considerate to his neighbors.
Loud music, screaming, fights, slamming doors, and drunk people hanging around the outside of our apartment complex are all things we have experienced regularly. We have also been suspicious at certain times that Mr. Party has been letting friends stay with him long-term, which would be breaking major lease agreement rules. We have had further suspicions {from the smells lingering in the halls when we open our apartment door in the morning} that Mr. Party and his friends aren't smoking just cigarettes, ah hem.
About two months ago, the apartment maintenance guys were replacing the door and door frame to Mr. Party's apartment because it appeared that somehow, Mr. Party's door and door frame were busted, as if someone had done so purposely and forcefully. If by accident, well, it would have to had been a BIG accident.
Also, not long after we moved in, Matt and I woke up one morning, after Mr. Party and his friends had spent a long night partying, to see that a car had been driven from the road up to Mr. Party's patio door and back to the road again, leaving nice, flat tire tracks behind in the grass.
Last week, this incident repeated itself, except this time, the car was driven on ground that had been rain-soaked for many days in a row.
This was the result:
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| Bad Mr. Party. Or rather, friend of Mr. Party--the one who drove your car on the lawn. |
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| I'm praying some grass will grow in these last warm days so we don't have to stare at this ugly mess all winter, but I'm afraid that may be the case. |
We suspect that this last incident was the final straw with our apartment complex, for the next day, apartment officials were out inspecting the lawn and making major notes. Then the day after that, {a mere two days after these tire tracks appeared}, Mr. Party started moving out of his party pad.
I'm not going to lie. We were really excited.
It now appears Mr. Party is completely moved out. And. It. Is. So. Quiet.
To say that there is a noticeable difference in the noise level would be a grand understatement. All of our other neighbors are as quiet as mice. I'm sure Matt and I aren't the only ones relieved that Mr. Party has vacated the premises.
From some paperwork placed on our building yesterday, it is apparent that Mr. Party has been evicted. We aren't at all surprised, and though I am utterly looking forward to enjoying our newly-acquired peace and quiet, I do feel a little bad for Mr. Party. I most certainly don't wish bad things upon him, and it seems he has gotten himself into quite the mess.
So goodbye, Mr. Party, and best of luck to you.
Hello tranquility.
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