So yesterday someone kept setting off firecrackers outside our building, those really loud POPPOPPOP kind that made me jump out of my seat and might have been giving me some mild traumatic flashbacks. I couldn't see who was doing it but I could HEAR it, oh my word. So the third time they went off I yelled out the window "ENOUGH" but I was so mad it sounded like "EEEAAAAGH" and Henry came out of his room and suggested, "Maybe you should call the police, Mom."

I shouted "GET YOUR MAMA SOME SCOTCH, FOR HER NERVOUS CONDITION" but he just rolled his eyes and went back into his room. He's a sensible boy.

I called 311, which is the number you call for noise complaints (and assorted other NYC concerns, like incorrect recycling, and rats with weapons), and the conversation I had then with the lovely 311 lady went thusly:

311: "How can I help you?"
Me: "Someone is setting off firecrackers, and it's incredibly loud, so I'm calling to make a noise complaint. Because of all the noise, you see."
311: "Oh, that's illegal."
Me: "?"
311. "Setting off firecrackers is illegal, ma'am."
Me: "Right, which is why I'm calling you."
311: "It says here in the something something code blah blah blah illegal illegal illegal."
Me: "Sure does sound illegal!"
311: "This is a police matter."
Me: "And you're not the police, is what you're trying to tell me?"
311: [deep, pained sigh] "I'll patch you in to 911. Just…just stay quiet and let me speak first. I'm going to speak first. Okay? Then it'll be your turn."
[pause. beeping noises]
911: "911, what's your emerg--"
311: "MA'AM."

Okay, I made that last part up. But I loved how she was so insistent that I not speak first. So concerned! So insistent! I was clearly unpredictable and dangerous. For all she knew, *I* was the person setting off the firecrackers. Maybe I was? It's all a blur.

P.S. I have no idea if the police came, even. Anyway, when I shouted EEEAAAAIGH out the window someone replied, "He's leaving, he's leaving." I didn't take their word for it, but maybe it was the case. Like we had  been visited by the Firecracker Guy, and his shift was over. He knew when enough was enough. Or when enough was EEAAAUUGH. That must be the worst job ever. How do you hear anything, Firecracker Guy?

P.P.S. I do not get the whole loud-popping-noise-firecracker appeal. I get the appeal of sparklers and things that make whooshing noises and are pretty. I do not understand why loud shit that is scary and also LOUD would be fun, in any way. I ranted about this to Scott, who asked me, "Were you ever a kid?" Of course I wasn't! What a ridiculous notion.