On March 19th of this year, we got new neighbors. After having had three or four different people move in and out over a span of time (we live in low-income apartments), this was nothing new. I put my shoes on, went down, and introduced myself. I gave them my phone number, and told them that if they needed anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I also mentioned that I have an electronic drum kit (the words "drinking" in her text autocorrected from "drumming"), and that I only really use it a few times a week, for half an hour, around 4-o'clock when I get off work.
I asked her that if is ever a bother, or wakes up the baby, or if we're ever too loud at ALL, to please let us know. Now, I had done this with all previous tenants, and never gotten one complaint. The very next morning, I receive the text above. I was chopping onions for a vegetable stew I was making for dinner later that night, and apparently it was too much. I do a fair bit of cooking (check the username), so I'm not flailing wildly with a knife. I know what I'm doing.
That was the first text. What follows is a story of harassment, stalking, and blackmail.
The beast in question
This is my Yamaha electric kit. She's my baby. I saved for a year to get this, because not being able to drum was slowly driving me insane. It's a form of therapy for me. It's relaxing. And, what's more, is that I felt good at it. I'm shy and introverted by nature, but drumming was the one thing I felt good enough to show other people. This is before I put memory-foam down to counter any resonance.
At most, I was drumming 2-4 times a week, never for more than 1/2 hour
Texts like these became frequent. I changed my schedule around a lot so I could fit some drum time in. Most times, I would even wait for them to leave so that I could drum. I got a lot of these within a minute of starting. My practice dropped to once a week, sometimes not for a few weeks.
The passive-aggression ramped up
This specific example was when I was at work. My girlfriend was at home watching TV when I got this text. She later sent me a video of how loud it was, and I could barely make out dialogue on the TV. Meanwhile, we could hear their stereo most days and nights without cease. We didn't want to complain like them, though. It felt petty.
Notice the time disparity
My friend arrived around 4:30PM, and we didn't go back into the back room until about 6:30ish. Mind you, this is a Friday, and there's lots of fiestas in our complex. Noise is not unusual. Within fifteen minutes, the man of the house (let's call him... Mr. Whiny-pants) came sprinting up the stairs, and pounded on our door. He demanded that we stop, and paced back and forth in front of the door while he spoke. He made a large spectacle about it, to the point where my girlfriend was a bit nervous about him getting physical. My friend and I immediately stopped and went out to play some NHL '15. What prompted the text around 10ish is beyond me.
I maintained civility
Still, I would get these texts. To no end, I would oblige. Always. Without question. I would run into Mrs. Whiny-pants on occasion, and be pleasant and make small talk. Mr. Whiny-pants was rarely seen.
Pictured: NOISE OH GOD MAKE IT STOP YOU'LL WAKE THE FUCKING BABY
I wear headphones. Mainly because I won a really nice pair of headphones in a raffle (first time I'd ever won anything! It was really cool), but also because it just... works like that. There's an output for a PA system, but I can't afford that shit. Nor would I want to. The headphones work beautifully. And all of the pads are rubber-lined to mute any sound that would happen. The only issue was the bass pedal, which I placed memory-foam under. All-in-all, I could use this thing without waking up my girlfriend sleeping in the next room.
BUT OH GOD THE NOISE
They began to get more sensitive...
I literally wanted to just show my parents my cool "studio" as I called it. It's not much, but for someone as poor as I am, and how much I've saved up, I was really proud. I didn't even play the kit. I just handed my dad (non-drummer) a stick and let him hit a few pads. I IMMEDIATELY got this text. The ridiculousness was ramping.
The other half of my "studio"
A guitar from a yard sale, a bass that I traded some stuff on Craigslist for, and another guitar that was a present. Complete with an amp that doesn't do shit unless you run it with headphones... Which is what I always do, anyways.
Civility
I found this one interesting. I stopped drumming, and went to the front room to make dinner. What followed downstairs sounded like a small-scale rave. The thumping rattled my walls. I wondered how their kid would sleep through that, but it wasn't my concern. I strapped my headphones on, and listened to music to drown it out.
