I read a statistic last week that 30% of adults under 30 still live with their parents. One of them lives two doors down in the house with the perpetually mulch-filled driveway. He plays the drums. The adult kid on the corner also plays drums. Just our luck.
Yesterday was hot, and the man child in the mulch house was playing drums in the garage with the garage door up. I am MASSIVELY cranky this week and I am hearing him play IN MY HOUSE. Mrguy is unwell. This will not stand. I went down to ask him to close the garage door.
I find his dad watering some plants, wearing a pair of cargo shorts and no shirt. He's got his airpods in, and his belly is sweaty and tan. It's so loud. I flap my arms in greeting and mime that I'd like to have him close the garage door. He's all "What?" and takes out his airpods. I yell to him that I can hear the drums in my house, and ask him if he can close the garage door. The right response would be "Sure, sure. Sorry about that"
Man: Where do you live?
Me: Two doors up. I can hear this in my house
Man: There's another guy on the corner
Me: I don't like that either
Man to Man-Child: Close the garage door
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