Hunter Zentz

Erinn, my co-worker, just moved into a new place across the street from work and had a few of us over. Hit board game Apples to Apples was busted out and we listened to Beatles albums quietly on her record player (she doesn’t have a phono pre-amp, for those in the know.) It was a lovely first evening, an appropriate house warming. The night took a turn for the weird when we started discussing home invasions and how common they are…

“Should we be worried with four of us?” I asked.

“Did you hear that?” Dave joked. Laughter from all!

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG! Someone is trying to break down the front door.

**simultaneous heart attacks**

It was her neighbor above her, stark raging mad at our loudness. Sure, this sort of scene has happened to most of us… volume often escalates with fun times, sometimes needing a friendly reminder to tone it down. But this was far beyond friendly, bordering more on a “will he hurt us?” level. Forget three strikes and you’re out, this is one and done. Erinn groveled her best, an amount that could even appease Stalin… but he wouldn’t have any of it. Background checks on neighbors, anyone?