For over three years, I have tolerated your loud, obnoxious parties. Even though the parties have gotten louder over time, I have never complained—until last time. It was Saturday night and the party had started mid-afternoon. As the volume increased, so did my irritation at having my home invaded with your noise. Finally, I marched across the street and through the gate to the backyard. There was a DJ operating a sound system, a live band playing and a woman singing into a microphone. No wonder it was so loud! Now, I admit that I lost my cool when I started shouting, “Turn it down. Just turn it down!“ People looked at me in shock but the music didn’t stop. The DJ pointed to you, the pretty young woman across the patio. I walked over to you, shouting again to turn it down and then walked back out the gate. You followed me out exclaiming, “You assaulted me. I’m going to call the police.” What? I’m the bad guy? The police arrived at your house a few minutes later to hear your complaint. Then they came to my house and saw that the “assaulter” was a petite woman almost in her 70s who was just trying to watch TV. They said to call 911 next time. I’ve learned my lesson. I hope you have, too.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to [email protected], or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
