Setting Fire to the Bridge

More in the neighbor war:

I wrote a letter. Detailing what the law ordinance was, and what I was planning on doing in the coming months to help out with the situation.

Basically, she took offense to every single bulletpoint. Even coming over to her house she found offense to. Because I said that she should come over to my house to receive schedules of our practices. She said, "You aren't welcome at my house because I have dogs."

How do strangers know this? "The mailman has enough sense, why don't you?" she said to me in a voicemail on my phone. "If you don't want to get attacked, don't come over on my yard."

Oh, damn. She di'nt.

She found it insulting that I would think to buy earplugs and Ibuprofen every month for her. "I can afford my own medicine, and why would I want to put in earplugs in my own home?!"

I retorted when I called her back, "I'm sorry if I offended you. I was merely trying to offer services to the headaches we might induce on your head by playing legally next door. You said you get migraines, and if we were the cause, I wanted to help out."

She won't have any of it. She's done. No more bargaining. My letter was sympathetic (plenty of "I'm trying my best to be neighborly, I want us to remain awesome, so I'm really trying. My house is your house.") and constructive. She referred to it as "your little note" time and time again in both my voicemail and our conversation.

I basically think that any bridge gaping the trough between Nicole and I has been burned, collapsed, and washed down river. No matter what I do, nothing will fix it. We might have shared glances, awkward at best, when I'm outside doing things around the yard, but I've tried. I've done everything.

Except . . .

1) Move out, find a new space. Which costs money and puts my band in jeopardy. I'm not sure they're willing to put down money for a space at this stage in the game. It was a battle for Scotty to be in the band, now on top of that fee there's a new monthly rent fee. Great.

2) Call the cops and really find out if I'm in the legal limit of 10db's within Nicole's house. If we check out fine, then we could keep playing, according to the law. We could stop at 9:00 still, but at this point we could go on till 10:00pm as far as I care.

3) If I wanted to get even (but I don't think it'll come to this) I could call the cops on her for the domestic disputes occurring in the house, the dog biting me on a yard with no proclamation of "Beware of Dog", the other dog she has chasing my roommate down the back alley today, and the barking dogs followed by "BEAR! STOP!!!" But this is a trifle passive aggressive and mean, and I don't play that game.

I'm not sure what to do. I'm in a real pickle here.

The only good thing is I've got some time to deal with this. Patch practices have ceased due to Scotty's month long departure to Maine for Winter Break.

Rage Against the Machine -- "I'm Housin'"

War of the Neighbors

More in the saga: Neighbor VS Patch

Scotty was practicing tonight in the back for Patch and numerous other projects that he's involved with. He started at 6:30. Was going to practice 'till 8:30.

My irate neighbor with the crazy dog came pounding on the door again at 8:10. I answered it and she let me have it.

"I--I can't do it anymore. My head. My kid and his homework. You're gonna have to stop."

I listened. I said, "I can look for a space, but we're going to have one more practice tomorrow."

She said, "Not if you want the cops involved."

I shut up. I gave her the benefit of me complying to her, not saying I wasn't going to have a practice, but saying "I'll see what I can do."

I called 311 and asked for specifics on the noise issue. They said that noise cannot be louder than a conversation in the complaining neighbor's house. Here's the thing: the noise, when it permeates through our own house, is not louder than a conversation. I talked on the phone with Marta as Scotty wailed away as hard as he could.

I then walked over to the other neighbors' house, the ones with two toddlers residing within. I asked the mom, "Are we bothering you at all? Nicole is pretty irate."

She said, "No! You guys are great! You stop early, you're not too loud. You're fine."

I said, "Okay, would you say our noise is louder than a conversation at all inside the house?"

She shook her head, "No. Nobody's bothered by it. Believe me, we'd let you know. The bass is sometimes heard, but it's not too bad, no."

I said, "So, if a cop comes over and starts questioning me, you'd be okay with me saying that you were totally cool with us, the neighbors with kids, even."

She smiled and said, "Yeah, of course."

I left and walked back home, coming up with a gameplan.

When Nicole comes back over, I'll state the following:

1. Conversation noise level vs. Patch noise. The toddler family said they're fine with it.
2. When the budget allows, I will sound proof the room as much as possible.
3. 9:00 we are always done, at her request. It could be 10:00.
4. When we have enough money, we will get a practice space not in the Monroe House.
5. I will leave schedules of when we will have noise going on in the back. I will have a little envelope marked "Nicole" with my schedule on it each week posted underneath my mailbox. I will not go over to her house risking my ass again with that dog running around.
6. If we truly are talking noise issues, then when cops come over I can bring up the fact that her dog wakes my roommates up at all hours of the night. It barks all hours of the day. Domestic fights and screaming are heard within our walls, the abusive boyfriend's motorcycle is a pain. It goes tit for tat. I'm complying, are you?

If this doesn't work, and cops still pull the plug on us, then we'll move. Until then, I'm resolute that Nicole is irritated and a little crazy as of late. I'm being as neighborly as I can.

I raised renting a space up to Scotty and he said, "That makes me rethink everything." Meaning, he can't afford a space. We're paying his way in the band, he can't pay $50 plus for a space. He'd leave. Fuck, the whole band would!

WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!?!?! I JUST WANT PATCH TO WORRRRRRRK!!!!!! FUCK!!!! I've helped out everyone else, why can't my own fucking band work?! So frustrating and disheartening.

Beck -- "Truckdrivin' Neighbors Downstairs (Yellow Sweat)"