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Dear people who stand outside their cars with the stereo blasting/having a loud drunken conversation at three in the morning on a weeknight.
You are right outside my bedroom window.
My boyfriend and I are both sound sleepers, but after trying desperately to ignore your incessant, piercing babble, I was fully awakened.
I got dressed, walked outside, and gently told you and your friends that you were being loud. That I was woken from a deep sleep. That it was 3:30 am and I wanted to sleep.
Your responseWell, then, you should move Your friends apologized, but you kept repeating in this horrible Kids-In-The hall voice: "Move. You should move. Move."
I'm sorry I said wearily, on the dark, otherwise deserted street. That really isn't funny (I was so tired, I had no witty comeback for you).
As I walked away, you stage-whispered: l bet she comes out here every night
I turned around at the gateThis is the first time I have come out I said simply:You have a really loud voice.
Toronto is one of those cool cities that weaves residential streets with commercial strips. I really like how I don't have to own a car. That I can get most places by foot, bus, or bike. I am used to most of the noise and bustle. Usually I love it. I don't even mind that I am so close to a club. After about a month, the music became a womblike thrumming.
But I do mind it at 3:30 in the morning when the clubs spill out selfish idiots like you.
So, I was really tired. I had thrown clothes on and gotten out of bed to ask you to be quiet. And you were such an ass, I think your friends were really embarrassed to be with you. So here goesI should move? Oh yeah? Maybe you should move your stupid ass back to the suburbs. Noisy Jerk.
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8.5.2004
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