Back in the day when I was an undergraduate student at the University of Pacific in Stockton, CA, I'd lived in the dorm, Farely House for one year.

During that time, I had a problem with my next-door neighbor, Brad. Every morning, I had an early morning class at 8 a.m.. I got up at 5 a.m. drank coffee while reviewing my notes for class, went for a short 20-minute jog, had breakfast at 7 am took a shower, and went to class at 7:50.

So  I always went to bed no later than 11:00 PM. My next-door neighbor, Brad was a real entitled rich racist white boy jerk, a first-class A-hole.  He was the son of a professional golfer and was attending UOP on a golf scholarship, although he no doubt could have afforded the tuition without the scholarship.

Every night, he would play music very loudly until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning, drinking and smoking weed with his rich white boy buddies. They all ultimately joined a frat with him. I would tell him every night at 11:00 PM

“Brad, hey buddy, can you turn down the music, please? I have an 8 a.m. class and have to get up at 6 a.m.”

“Sure thing.” he would say and his buddies smirked and laughed at me.   he would turn it down for ten minutes then crank it back up.

So one morning I decided I had enough. What I did was rigged my stereo to play the song, “ Play that funky music, white boy,” which was funky. Disco song hit at the time, knowing that my buddy hated disco music because, as he put it one night

“Man, I hate Disco and  Niger crap music.”

 So I played it so they would keep repeating over and repeatedly. And I turned up the volume very high, and then it went out to breakfast and went out to my class and disappeared. Around 11:00  a.m. I got back to my room and the dorm. resident came up to me and told me,

“Hey, where were you this morning? You know, you have the music playing very loud, and I had to go into your room and shut it down.  You woke up half the dorm”.

. I said,

“Yeah, well, yeah, about that, you know, as you know, I've been telling Brad for many, many weeks now to please turn down the music early on at 11:00 PM  as I get up early to study before breakfast and my 8 a.m. class and several other people have also been complaining about the late night music,.and you know, he hasn't done anything about it. So I just thought, you know, it would be a good thing for him to give him the taste of his own medicine so to speak. Yeah. So yeah, I turned it up and yeah, I ran it and just disappeared. I hope that he's OK with that as a wake-up call.”

Brad never said a word to me, but from that night on at 11:00 PM. He turned down the volume very low and I didn't have any more problems with that. And I smiled, knowing that I had had my revenge. And yes, revenge is a dish best-served cold.