Saturday, September 23, 2006

They're no Joey and Chandler...

Last night (Saturday) I stayed up fairly late chatting with Ken and all was quiet in the neighborhood, except some random yelling once and awhile. Just some drunk kids, I thought. I was incredibly tired and fell asleep almost immediately. And then....

"HEY! HEY! HEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!" I hear the screaming of drunk men and it wakes me from my peaceful futon slumber. It sounded sort of Japanese so I figured that the kids were just still out and about. And then it continued and then I realized that --- no, not Japanese--- definitely American voices. And the music starts. Loud music. My walls are vibrating a little and I can hear every single word that these partiers are saying. I got up to look and see where this music is coming from. It's down the block on the third floor. I can see people dancing and when I look at my watch, it's 3:30 in the morning. Now, Ken's party was a bit loud for his neighborhood, but I guarantee that everyone within at least a three block radius was hearing this party and their music. I was ticked. I'm sure my Japanese neighbors were ticked, but what could they do? They can't call the cops because then the cops would have to speak English and deal with drunk military men. I was tempted to yell out the window since evidentally I was the only one who had any control of the situation, but I resisted. Instead I put on some New Age music on my iPod and attempted to sleep through it. During my fitful sleep, I came up with a perfect solution...

In the morning, I would rouse the neighbors... all of them.... around 7 am and we would grab all of our cleaning implements. Swiffers, mops, rags. As a group, we would march to the scene of the party and bang on the door loudly. Before waiting for a reply, we'd march in and yell, "OHAYO GOZAIMASU!" There would be a lot of bowing and every single hungover soul would be addressed. In their bewilderment of the "Ohayos" I would pop in a CD of my own. Some traditional Okinawan music. With a ton of Eisa drumming for their heads to soak up after a night of drinking. Throwing bottles into bags would add to the noise level as well. As some of the Japanese folk sweep around halfdead Americans on the floor, someone else could start breakfast. I think natto is just what the doctor ordered. (an incredibly foul food of fermented soybeans that I have successfully avoided thus far) In their guilty state, the partiers would have to eat the meal provided. And then we'd leave to give them a chance to soak in what just happened. That would show 'em.

Instead... I slept until 8:30 and woke up to my neighbors below making tremendous noise with metal somethings. It woke me up and maybe it was their tactic as well to get the Americans ticked off in the morning as well. If so, hats off to them.

1 comment:

Kimi said...

sounded like a good idea, too bad it didn't happen. :-) Natto, yuck. My mom would eat that and leave half a container in the fridge... disgusting!