As mentioned earlier, Stompy moved out. I got the opportunity to meet the new tenants awhile back. Upstairs Lady and Upstairs Lady’s Daughter, or Upstairs Girl. I’m sure I’ll have nicknames for them soon enough.
From our brief conversation I determined that it would be a good fit. She claims they’re not home much and Girl is old enough not to be loud as fuck. Plus we have staggered days off, so I now have the entire weekend to do laundry and they get a few days during the week. Sounds great, perfect even.
My landlord also told me that Upstairs Girl plays guitar, so I figured their tolerance for loud, obnoxious ‘music’ making would be high and I could play to my hearts content.
Everything was going swimmingly. Until I came home one day; Upstairs Lady was out on the porch, she peeked over the edge and said she wanted to give me forewarning. Girl has a dance recital coming up, so I might hear some thumping and what-have-you for the next two weeks while she practices.
Not too big of a deal, considering she said that the thumping would not happen any later than 9pm. Sounds great, perfect even.
So what kind of dance?
Needless to say, ‘some thumping’ is the understatement of the century.