I went to the coffee shop last Tuesday night not because of
technical difficulties with my wifi but because my son and I couldn't hear
ourselves think let alone get work
done. After working 11 hours at my job I
made it home to the familiar smell of my neighbors low budget bammer weed and ridiculously
loud music. Just as I was welcoming a
guest into our home to engage in a very serious conversation, we were
distracted by an auditory explosions of BOOM BOOM BOOM! The sound of an obese orangutan
attempting to beat through the wall of my apartment created a chorus of chaos. No, it
wasn't L.L. Cool J's Booming System. Honestly, it wasn’t even a good system. It
was just a loud annoying blasting of bootleg speakers blaring out the bogus
sounds of every wack rapper who currently plays on the radio and internet.
As my ears consumed this menacing melodic meal I began to
internally vomit in my mind. I got settled in and prepared to pay my neighbors
a visit in hopes that we could engage in some quick community conflict
resolution. I managed to contain my inner “Show Nuff” as I quickly cast out thoughts of jumping
into the air and forcefully hitting the ground with their freshly smashed sound
system crushed in to tiny little pieces of plastic, metal and wires beneath my feet. I patiently knocked on the door for about
2 or 3 minutes but they couldn’t hear me because their music was too loud.
Once the door opened a mad faced midget who I'm quite
accustomed to seeing greeted me with a, "Wasssup? Is the music loud?"
Now I'm thinking to myself "DJANGO! You know good and well that the volume
of your music is outrageous and disrespectful. It's eardrum deafening and it’s too damn loud
for 8:30pm on a school night when I have work to do and my son is busy pretending to study
for his final exams." I refrained from giving him the blues and settle for
a nice, "I can't hear you! It’s so loud I can’t think” Now it wouldn’t be
so bad if this were taking place on a Friday or Saturday night. I would expect
that given that I live in the heart of the Infamous 7th Ward where
them hard heads dwell. Honestly I would expect
it in the 3rd Ward, 9th Ward, Garden District, or the Central Business District too but I
digress.
I walked away and 10 minutes passed before the music was
taken down a notch and when I say a notch I mean that in the literal
sense. I temporarily reflect on how this
same young cat stopped me to ask if I would help him find a job because,
“Mannnnnnnnnnnnnnn it’s hard out hear and they aint trying to hire
nobody.” Needless to say, I gave him 3
different leads on jobs and he took no initiative to move on any of them. He
even had the audacity to ask me if I would go and write down all of the
information for him, while he played on his smart phone right in front of me.
Ironically this jobless youngster was hosting a disturbing the peace party and
breaking noise ordinances that haven’t even been established yet instead of
preparing for some employment opportunities but that’s neither here nor there.
Back to the present
time. My annoyance went on a date with
disgust and together they conceived and eventually gave birth to abhorrence.
The strong feelings I was holding were not towards my neighbors themselves. My emotional angst was focused on their actions
of sheer 40oz foolishness, weed blowing weed buffoonery, time management
tomfoolery, and sheer ignorant shenanigans. At a time in my life I indulged in both
illicit practices and the ignorance as well and I make no excuses about it.
There difference between my neighbors and me was that I didn’t include innocent
bystander s in my stupidity.
I eventually gave it
that old college try and went out a 2nd time to peacefully persuade
them to turn the music down. As soon as I opened the door I was greeted by a
smiling faced man who said, “Hey is the music too loud?” I replied
emphatically, “Yesssssssssssssss! “ And I prematurely thanked him for what I
thought he was going to do. Now this is
when ignorance began to reign and it was a melodic monsoon of moronic behavior . The master of ceremonies or deejay started to
strategically play music that mated the voices that were shouting on the other
end of the wall, “Man fuck that shit!
This is a birthday party man. Fuck them niggas.” For the next 20 minutes or so my son, our
guest and myself were are graces with a playlist of perversion that basically
told of where we could go and what we could do if we didn’t like their loud
music.
Out of fear our guest vacated the premises when she saw the
route I was taking. Initially I called and text my landlord and he was absolutely
no help at all. He suggested that I call the police. I called the police and
they told me to call the Crime Stoppers.
I called Crime Stoppers and they told me to call the police. I called
the police back and they told me to call the non-emergency police line. I
called the non-emergency police line and they told me to call the police back. And
these clowns wonder why people take the law into their own hands. At the end of
the day I just prayed for those clowns and took my son to the coffee shop so
they we both could get some work done. Crazy Right?!?
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