Found: The best way to deal with a noisy neighbour.

Dear Noisy Neighbours,

There are some choice swear words I would like to throw at you, but in the interest of being neighbourly, I’m going to replace them all with the word ‘funk’.

Please turn your funking music down so I can get some funking sleep.

I’ve lived in this lovely area for four months now, and you have woken me up on many occasions (and by that, I mean all the funking time). Last night, like many other nights, it was at 4.30a.m, a time of morning that should be reserved for breakfast radio hosts, international flight passengers, and parents of infants.

By 5a.m, when I still couldn’t block out the music and your lovely, happy party shouting, I assumed you were partying in your backyard, or perhaps actually pressed up against my bedroom window. I came out onto my balcony in my pink dressing gown to yell at you kindly request some quiet, but you were actually INSIDE your house, yet still radiating the neighbourhood.

I didn’t want to wake my other neighbours by pointlessly yelling at you kindly requesting some quiet when you couldn’t even see/hear me, so after 10 minutes of waiting for you to poke your heads outside, I gave up and went back to bed.

For twenty minutes. And then some of you DID move outside.

I ran back to my balcony so I could yell  request quiet,but your friends were loudly revving the engine of their shithouse fancy ute. They were then reversing down your driveway for so long and with such difficulty, that I am worried that the man behind the wheel was:

I had high hopes that the music would desist after this, but alas, no. That favourite song of yours – you know, with the artist who has discovered one note on the bass guitar and stuck with it, over and over and over and funking over – was cranked up with such heavy bass support that my windows decided to join in and dance.

I’m not sure if it’s you, or perhaps a friend, but one man seemed to contribute to the party by yelling ‘derpa, derpa, derpa, derpa’ at the top of his lungs. Is he okay? I have genuine concern that this man is:

A) not sure how to human
B) brain damaged
C) actually a moron

Thank you for turning the music down at 6 a.m. When I got in my car at 8 a.m, I was tempted to hold down my horn in your direction for an hour or two, but my damn manners got in the way.

I feel confident that I am not the only neighbour struggling with your timetable. Everyone in my street probably feels the same. And the street behind us. And the deaf man in the next suburb. And anyone buried in the cemetery four kilometres away.

To ease my demands, I have included two gifts for you. Firstly, a pair of headphones. Perhaps, at your next party (probably tonight, amirite?) you can create some intimacy between guests by plugging them in and sharing them closely. I purposely chose the ‘super-bass’ ones, because I KNEW how much you’d love them.

Secondly, I made you a CD, so that if you really must pump music into my house throughout the day and night, we can mix it up from ol’ one-note rapper-man. All of these songs were carefully selected by me, just for you.

1. ‘Respect’ by Aretha Franklin. As in, respect thy funking neighbour.
2. ‘Wake Me Up’ by Avicii. Because I know you funking love to.
3. ‘All About The Bass’ by Meghan Trainor. You sure funking are.
4. ‘Stop Right Now’ by The Spice Girls. Because fuuuunk, I would love you to.
5. ‘Uptown Funk’ by Bruno Mars. Because… it’s just a funkin’ good song, really.

You’re welcome.

So, my dear neighbours, in conclusion, I hope you and I can become friends. Let’s get together for a G&T sometime between the hours of 8am and midnight. Maybe even 1 a.m if we’re feeling crazy, though we’d best keep it down because plenty of people around us would be sleeping at that hour. Looking forward to getting to know you, I’m sure you are lovely people. But ’til then, please:

Grow up. Get some funking manners. And Go. The Funk. To Sleep.

Neighbourly love,

Lucy.

P.S. I’m assuming your mature adult response to this card will be to crank your music up even louder to ‘teach me a lesson’ or something clever. Go for it. I might just invite a few more people to your bass party, dressed in cop uniforms (i.e. COPS, not strippers).

P.P.S Feel free to crank that CD I gave you. It’s actually blank, so I’d love that to be your 4.30a.m music. I did want to burn you an actual CD, but I’m too funking tired.

You can follow Lucy Gransbury on her on twitter @LucyGransbury or blog here. Or follow her in real life. Head towards the loud house and turn left.

Are you struggling with a noisy neighbour? Or worse, are YOU the noisy neighbour?