My neighbor likes electronica music, or whatever music that's all beat and no melody is called. She's got the bass turned up so loud, my apartment is shaking; I'm shaking. Normally, I don't like to dictate what other people listen to, because according to some sources, my own taste in music is fairly sketchy. However, that being said, I'm dying to cross the little walkway and knock on her door.
"Hi, my name is Seema. I live across from you.I know I should have made a pie or something, this being the first time in three months we've talked to each other, let alone seen each other. The neighborly thing to have done would be bring over fresh baked cookies and lemonade." Deep breath. "However, could you please, please turn your music down? I hate your taste in music and while I'm all for supporting your First Amendment right to listen to any music you'd like, I'd also like you to have the courtesy to appreciate my Fourteenth Amendment right to some privacy. Privacy, that is not interupted by your music. Nice to have met you. What's your name again?"
But I probably won't. I'll probably sit here and seethe and be thankful I'm not studying tonight. And that I'm going out in fifteen minutes for the evening.
Confidential to Jemima: It was most definitely me.