White people can be ghetto

Speaking of stereotypes, I find it ironic that all the stereotypes attributed to black people – loud, smoking weed, fighting, playing music loudly, and just general mayhem, happens to be occurring with a white couple that lives downstairs from me.

These people have become the bane of my apartment existence.  As such, I have decided to sprinkle baking powder at the front door, call the police, and tell them I believe my neighbors are selling crack/cocaine.

I’m sorry.  There is no convincing me otherwise.  Don’t even bother to tell me it aint right.  I just can’t take no more.  It’s bad enough that the music is always cranked on high and goes directly into my apartment, but what really kills me is that they don’t seem to know at what TIME to locate the off switch.  Can we not agree that 1am on the weekday is a bit ridiculous or do you need to consult your Apartment Living Manual for Dummies?

p. 12 of your Apartment Living Manual for Dummies reads…

You the only one without a job in this apartment building.  As such, loud music during the weekday is generally considered tacky as hell.  Act accordingly, lazy ass. 

(Additional addendums to this rule can be found on pages 18-23.)

THREE times now I have gone to tell them to cut down their music.  Here I am a professional woman, looking like a screeching banshee ‘cause its 1 in the freakin morning.  And of course, you would have thought they got the message from the last time I was there…..’cause let me tell ya. sista did a LIVE performance.  I went to simply bang on the doorbell, but instead the door flew open like a scene from a horror movie.  Me standing in the hallway with the door swinging back and forth, yelling “get out”, “GET OOOOUUUUUTTTT”.   I did feel a little sorry for the man though.  He had such a fright he went to clutch his pearls.

But still, why must I do that?  Do they think my having to scream like a fool, “turn down the music” makes me feel sexy?  No, I don’t feel sexy.  All my southern belle etiquette has been brought down to straight gangsta level like I don’t have an education, a degree, and some class.  (sighing heavily, pouting lips, and tossing head to the side)  So tacky. 

But that’s not the worse part.  The general mayhem – I can manage.  The weed—if you keep it to your apartment, I don’t care.  The music, I can even work with you as long as it’s a weekend joint…..What I really cant take is the freakin fighting day and night……even the kids be fighting.

There is nothing worse than being brought out of your work concentration by the sound of a screaming child.  EXCEPT, when it’s joined by somebody yelling “shut the hell up.” 

Now see …….you need to read a book on child rearing by Dr. Spock or somebody, ‘cause that shit won’t do. 

That’s a child being prepped for the penal system if I ever saw one.  Say, I’m ugly if you want to…..but when your parents smoke weed without the baby sitter coming to pick you up…..you might as well skip boardwalk and go directly to juvie.  That child right there is going to have to have direct divine intervention.  I’m serious when I say pray for those babies.

But the real piece de resistance is when the couple themselves start fighting. 

In the apartment,

by the trash dumpster,

in the hallway,

or walking down the street

in the car,

on the balcony,

outside in the yard,

in the parking lot,

or driving off…..

just pick a place!  any place will do! 

And I don’t mean, just any old tiff either.  I mean yelling with all the expletives you can think could possibly be placed into one sentence.  Apparently, my English teacher didn’t know what she was talking about….as I have now learned that you can indeed communicate based on run-on sentences that consist of    “you a….. m-f, low down, a--, f- , bastard, m-f, you can just get the f- out, f-, a-h, piece of s-, m-f, you're a b-, I don’t want you no more, you m-f, don’t talk to me, …….asshole.”

On one occasion, the yelling was really bad.  I mean "he gonna kill that girl" bad.  And then all of a sudden……silence.  I couldn’t hear a word.  Just a sudden silence.   Here I’m in my apartment thinking…..oh Lord, he really done up and killed that girl.  So I go to place my ear to the floor hoping to hear something coming from the apartment and thinking I have to call the police or somebody.  (BTW, called the police and like a true ghetto, they didn’t bother to come…which I should note is funny given the fact that I live in a small suburban town). 

Clearly my concern was for naught, however, because she came sashaying out the next day just as fine as you please without nary a care in the world.  And here I was concerned and looking like some kind of fool last night…..

ass in the air, face all on the carpet floor, looking like a porn star.  THAT'S NOT ATTRACTIVE!

(rolling my eyes)  I have GOT to find a way to get rid of these people….but until then, let this be a lesson to you all.  Stereotypes are hardly dependable characterizations for describing groups of people.

Now where’s my dag-on baking soda……