An Open Letter to the Dude Living Across The Hall
Hey Guy, You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I think we said “hey” to each other once while moving in. And I get that. You’re a private person; I am too; that’s why we live in Plex. And I realize that there comes a time when a private person wants to open up a little, and share that privacy with a significant other, be it a man, a woman, or one of those weird things from Star Trek. And I understand that too.
But I am not writing to you simply because you’re a private person. I’m writing to you because at 3 goddamn 30 in the morning, your privacy has encroached upon my privacy. Specifically, I speak of the Air-Raid Siren which you seem to be fucking nightly. And do not think I am simply being hyperbolic, because even though your room is the furthest from mine of all my neighbors, and even though my door was tightly shut, and even though I was listening to Death Grips through my headphones, I could still hear the cacophonous moaning of your girlfriend.
Have you ever seen the videos on Youtube of turtles fucking? Increase the speed by 200%, and raise the volume to Fucking Loud, and that is what it sounds like twenty feet away from your room, through two wooden doors.
However, if noise were the only product of your barbaric coitus, I would hardly have reason to write to you at all, for believe it or not I have slept through alarms much louder, closer, and more painfully discordant than your girlfriend (though not very). No, the reason why I am writing to you now rather than enjoying my own filthy, disgusting dreams has less to do with the sound, and everything to do with the force of your unholy copulation.
For whatever you are doing to that poor woman, you are doing it with such vigor and impact that the vibrations have encroached upon my sanctity. Every time your bed slams against the brick of your wall, it sounds like a knock on my door, and indeed it is so powerful that it is causing my own bed to shake in time. Yes sir, you are fucking me by proxy. I had only been asleep for an hour when I was awoken by what I thought was an earthquake, but lo were my fears soon amplified when I realized the awful truth of the matter.
As a fellow gentleman, I respect your right to share your love and passion with a beautiful woman, but as an insomniac who is wrestling with three midterm papers and has not been with a woman in nearly a year, I implore you: Please do not share your love and passion with me.
Signed, Dolphintail Espinoza