As some of you may recall, I was having problems with my downstairs neighbor, Jabba, and his penchant for cranking his TV volume to 11 ALL THE TIME. This started when he moved in, in March, and continued for weeks and weeks and weeks. And I tried talking to him, and talking to his son (my landlord), and talking to the building supervisor, and blah blah blah, nothing was working. Because he kept insisting that his TV was not too loud, despite all evidence to the contrary. And I started looking for a new apartment.
SO, one night last a couple of months ago, I got home from work a little after five to REALLY LOUD NOISE from downstairs. I called Jabba on the phone, and he did not answer. Hmmm, I thought, he's using new tactics. He's checking his caller ID and not picking up when he sees it's me calling. Why did I not just go knock on his door, you ask? Because this guy skeeves me out. I mean, he is disgusting and creepy and scary. The less in-person interface, the better.
A little after seven, the noise was still REALLY LOUD, so I called him again. And he was obviously disgruntled, insisted the noise was not too loud, and basically told me to piss off. So I called his son (my landlord), got his voice mail, and left a message saying that if his dad did not turn down his TV, I would have no choice but to call the cops.
Now, I am no fan of the cops in this area. They are basically useless and tend to be misogynistic, so I avoid contact with them at all costs. Plus, I hate to involve police in what is basically an apartment building dispute.
By 11 p.m., I had been listening to Jabba's REALLY LOUD NOISE for approximately 6 hours straight. And I cracked. I called the cops. The cops showed up, talked to Jabba, and then ...... silence.
Jabba's son called me at work the next day, furious. How DARE I call the cops on his dad! His dad was sleeping when the cops came! The cops said his dad's TV was not too loud! And I asked him, is this what the cops told you, or what your dad told you? And he said, well, um, he didn't actually talk to the cops ........
Once I got the son calmed down, we started going over ways to try to resolve this problem, for approximately the billionth time. And for the billionth time, I told the son, it's not the overall TV volume that's the problem, the problem is the bass. Jabba has a surround-sound TV, and he was obviously keeping the surround-sound bass volume cranked all the time. And something finally clicked for his son. He said, "How about if I ask my dad to turn down the bass?" Which is what I had basically been begging his father to do for the past several weeks. And I said, "You know what? That sounds like a really good idea".
And I got home that night to ...... silence. And with a few minor exceptions, all has been fine, volume-wise, ever since.
And I do have some idea now why it took so long for the idea of "turn down the bass" to sink in. While I was talking to the son, he said something along the lines of, "I know my dad's simple, but ...." AHA! From talking to Jabba, I knew that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I had no idea that he was actually retarded. Jabba being retarded explains a whole lot about his behavior.
Bottom line, it took me several weeks, but the situation finally came under control. I'm a stubborn little cuss. And now I am happy.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
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