Had I known you’d be living in the apartment below us, I never would’ve signed the lease. Three months into our new life in a semi-bad neighborhood, now paying twice our previous rent, we start hearing your loud thumping music below our unit at 6am, as well as your regularly scheduled loud and lewd arguments with your unemployed anger-case boyfriend and your continuously barking dog that somehow gets out every morning as you scream profanities to recover him. And then there’s your regular marijuana usage conveniently just below our windows. Thanks to you, I used my newfound energy (aka anger) to look into the laws, and I’ve now decided to involve the police whenever you break them (e.g. disturbing the peace). And a note to your mom, who is single and struggling to make rent: get a clue that your potty-mouthed, pothead, truant and law-breaking teenage daughter is going to get you kicked out of your apartment. I’m a fair and caring guy, but for sanity and safety’s sake it’s time to take out the trash.
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.
