After my last post and another night of unrelenting BS, I packed up and stayed at my parents house, much to their delight. (Okay, they're out of town too but STILL. They're in Springbank and I'm downtown, a mere 10 minutes walking distance from work/"everything".) Still not wanting to call the cops, I called my boyfriend, who's also been out of town (yes, I'm starting to get the hint), and waxed on and on about... this. Meanwhile he's thinking, "One of them has to shut up, and at least Beaverho puts out."
So home he came, and camped out like a poacher on his prey, with his buddies and beer and waited for Shamu to emerge.
And that's about as exciting as the story gets.
Turns out it's a bunch of 17-18 year old boys (quelle surprise!) who knew the music was too loud but "meh" and shrugged a little 18 year old shrug. Me pummeling my tiny fists on the door? Didn't hear it. Me ringing the doorbell? Didn't hear it. Me wanting to ####ing sock your nose? Didn't get to say/do it. I digress. They have their "man talk" and pound chests and everyone's all happy.
Two days later and yes, after the departure of boyfriend, same story.
After a night out, a couple girlfriends stay with me. You know, for pillow fights and makeout sessions. And sure enough, an inexplicable and way less fun MaliBoom Boom commercial comes on over us. Enough was enough. Armed with our flashlights (read: the glow of our cellphones), we head to this "breaker" and flipped it.
Haven't had a problem since.
Moral of the story: If you want to get something done, consult CP and do it yourself.
Thank you all for your input. Please stay tuned for my next thread: "So... I flipped the breaker and now the satellite doesn't work." Or "My car's been vandalized and I think I know who..."
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