Guess who showed The Thumper who's boss this weekend?!
Starting at 8:30 pm on Saturday nite, my neighbor Casey and I started to hear swarms of people going up the stairs. I live in an old building; when one person goes up/down the stairs, it sounds like 20, so imagine if you hear more than one person...As my neighbor and I saw the last installment of ugly posers truck up the stairs, we got worried. Twenty minutes later, with my apartment vibrating and sand falling from the ceiling, we realized...Dumb Thumper bitch decided to throw a party. And by "party" I mean 30-40 Berklee kids crammed into a 200 sq. foot apt. playing Beirut and singing along to Fiona Apple.
So, this is how it all went down:
Rather than get super pissed so early in the nite, we decided to take baby steps and flip the switch. And by "switch" I mean the fuse. That's right, it started by turning the electricity off to half her apt. To be fair, I turned it off in my apartment too, but I was willing to sacrifice the food in my fridge if it taught this bitch a lesson. As I'm returning from the fuse box, lo and behold, The Thumper appeared at my door. Now, just to describe her...I had never actually seen her before and it is now confirmed why she's The Thumper. She wears Ugg boots. She's portly. She has long heavy, wavy, auburnish-red hair- exactly how you'd imagine a large Thumper upstairs to live (and yes, I'm fully judging her). Drunkenly, she tried to apologize for the noise and assured me that all the losers were leaving at midnite- it was only 9:30 pm. This is what was said:
Thumper: I'm so sorry about the noise and stuff, I've never lived in an apartment so I don't really know how to do this kinda thing. But I swear we'll all be leaving around midnite."
Me: That's fine, just do me a favor, stop dropping shit.
Thumper: (apparently she thought this was funny) (laughing) Ok, I'll try, but I'm just really clumsy.
Me: That's fine and all, but you've gotta stop dropping shit. Seriously. I don't know what you're dropping, but it's kinda ridiculous.
Thumper: Ok thanks. See you later.
The dropping of shit did not stop. Two hours, later, the sing-along began. Before I ran up and punched her throat, I got reinforcements, i.e. Casey (my neighbor). She had her ipod in, so I knew the Thumper was affecting her too. As a collective mini-army, we go upstairs, and make 2 loitering kids in the hall get The Thumper. On her door, we see this sign (written on bright-red paper, btw) "Dear Neighbors, Sorry about the noise. We'll be leaving by midnight, I promise. Love (actually, it was a heart), 4a."
Casey and I looked at each other and snickered. This bitch actually thought that a sign was gonna prevent people from getting pissed. Maybe it would've a day before, had she had forewarned us about her weak attempts at a soiree and invited us to stop by (p.s. we wouldn't have been caught dead there). I digress. The door opens and The Thumper's wasted. She takes one look at me and her smile drops. I looked at her and literally, all I said was "Not ok." HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHA (Ryan, I woulda made you proud).
She goes, "Omg, I'm sorry." Looks back at all the wasted 20-year olds she probably spent the whole nite trying to convince how cool she was and goes "Guys, parties over. Everyone needs to get out- we're gotta go to the bar!"
SUCCESS!!!
I should probably mention that The Thumper has at least one of these shin-digs at least once a month. This one was tame in that there weren't kids hanging over the fire escape yelling "STELLA" at everyone who walked by. Our landlord strongly prohibits undergrad kids living her for the obvious reasons. Of course I didn't wanna be that lame old asshole who gets mad at neighbors for throwing parties, but shit, once in awhile, you gotta have a movie nite. And in all honesty, once she apologized the first time, I turned her power back on (she's so stupid, she doesn't even know where the fuse box is). So it's not like I ruined her party. Plus, when she finally kicked everyone out, it was 11:45 pm. so I hung in there the whole time.
Moral of the story: Letters to The Thumper don't work. Banging on the ceiling to tell The Thumper to shut the fuck up don't work. Going upstairs and scaring the shit out of The Thumper...WORKS.
It was a good weekend.
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