An Open Letter to the Dude Living Across The Hall

Hey Guy,

You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I think we said “hey” to each other once while moving in. And I get that. You’re a private person; I am too; that’s why we live in Plex. And I realize that there comes a time when a private person wants to open up a little, and share that privacy with a significant other, be it a man, a woman, or one of those weird things from Star Trek. And I understand that too.

But I am not writing to you simply because you’re a private person. I’m writing to you because at 3 goddamn 30 in the morning, your privacy has encroached upon my privacy. Specifically, I speak of the Air-Raid Siren which you seem to be fucking nightly. And do not think I am simply being hyperbolic, because even though your room is the furthest from mine of all my neighbors, and even though my door was tightly shut, and even though I was listening to Death Grips through my headphones, I could still hear the cacophonous moaning of your girlfriend.