An open letter to the noisy couple next-door
Nobody needs to hear that
Dear noisy couple next-door,
Please, for the love of God, tone it down. I beg of you. I don't begrudge you some loving at the end of a long working day (or the beginning – yes, I can hear); but, personally, a solid 8-hours' sleep is much more beneficial to a person…and you're keeping me awake with your incessant noise.
It is a matter of courtesy to restrain yourself, at least a little, when living in such close quarters. Of course, I appreciate that your boyfriend has come to visit all the way from Durham and you missed each other – but nobody misses each other that much!
Picture it: it's 11.30pm and I settle down from my strenuous day of reading book after book on the late-Victorian economy. Tucking myself up in bed, I attempt to watch an episode of Gossip Girl on Netflix when, all of a sudden, I hear that distinctive thud through the wall. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No; it's you guys banging. My groans of frustration mingle with your moans of pleasure in an unorthodox symphony. As the night progresses, I cover my head with my pillow in an attempt to block out the sounds, but they are piercing. Whilst I fruitlessly count sheep, it is impossible not to track your movements as you travel from desk, to armchair, to shower, to floor, to bedside-table, and finally to the bed in one last flourish. Sometimes I can even hear you in the library next to our rooms. WHAT IS UP WITH THAT?
Must you be that loud? Honestly, I'm curious as to whether it is vitally important for you to rouse every single person in college from their slumber? Are you trying to flaunt how great your sex is? It's not working. Nobody is jealous, and everyone is bored and angry. Seriously, neither of you can be that impressive – or at least not that consistently impressive. Please stop trying to boost each other's egos and just be quiet.
Frankly, I do not want this mental image. I semi-successfully managed to block it out until that fire alarm in the early hours of the morning. Watching you both sheepishly traipse into main court, messy-haired, bleary-eyed, with make-up smeared across both of your faces cemented the picture in my brain. Thanks for that. Now I feel like I'm a part of your relationship – the third wheel that can't escape.
I do not want to listen to your weird kinks. Absolutely no-one does. We may be friends, but we're certainly not that friendly. When it gets to the point that I can hear your Tony Blair 1997 election dirty talk word for word through the walls, it has gone too far. FYI, 'education, education, education' is not sexy – I don't care if you're a Blairite, that's not a turn on.
From time to time, I'll accept this as an occupational hazard of living in Uni halls. I'm no prude. But 4 times a bloody week? Seriously? I mean, I'm impressed by your stamina. But calm it the hell down. Everyone has needs but that is just excessive!
A sleep-deprived neighbour who has had enough of your shit.
P.S. I would appreciate if you could reimburse me for the ear plugs which I have been forced to invest in. Thanks xoxoxo