I've been in this "vintage" brownstone cubby-hole for almost 8 years now, living contentedly and quietly amongst a mutually indetectable collection of like-minded souls.
But recently all HELL has broken loose.
First, my nearby "neighbors" recently moved in along with their obviously retarded dog who barks, yelps, and whines in an impressive wealth of varietal tones NON-STOP once its oblivious owners vacate the premises. I have been forced to buy a "dog training whistle" which I screech (with approximately 75% efficiency) out my icy window whenever my patience is exhausted. I swear, I've never encountered a more brain-damaged animal.
My lovely (and hard-working) downstairs neighbor finally got herself a steady boyfriend. I was quite happy for her until hippy-guy MOVED IN and quickly demonstrated to us all (ie every adjacent and remotely proximate unit) that he fashions himself to be a BONGO DRUMMER. (I'm not making this up!) And I'm not talking about those tiny little bongos. This slacker irrythmically drums on one or more of those big CONGO DRUMS.
So "boyfriend hippy dude" plays the BIG BONGOS at his leisure throughout the day. (Of course, bongo meisters such as himself do not need a real 9 to 5 job...). And when he's not self-consciously botching his wonka bongo sequences, he's blaring his stereo. He's a musician, you know.