Things I have heard before 7am because my window is on the airshaft

Though, to call it a window implies it possesses some of the qualities of a window, like it lets in light, lets in air, gives you something to look at, offers an emergency escape route from fire or madmen. My "window" lets it no light, no air, the bottom pane is fuzzy so no one can look in or out, and it exits onto a totally enclosed and inescapable airshaft. With lots of plastic bags and plants, soda bottles, shoes, and many, many hangers languishing at the bottom. It perplexes me a little to think people just throw things out the window. Like, "these shoes are old and ratty. The garbage is a whole 10 feet away," (because at no time in any of these apartments is anything, the garbage, bathroom, bed, possibly more than 10 feet away), " thank God the window's right here."
My most favorite building camaraderie moment came when someone left a handwritten note on the elevator that said "Tenants: DON'T THROW YOUR SHIT OUT THE WINDOW INTO THE AIRSHAFT. There was a small FIRE today because a burning cigarette butt started smoldering. The fire department almost could not gain access. Please be more considerate and less retarded in the future."

1) La Isla Bonita. There's an apartment full of loud hipsters, 2 girls and a boy, who only ever see each other at 3 in the morning. Different schedules and what not. So they like to talk, listen to music, and catch up with their "windows" wide open. (More recently, the boy was talking to one of the girls while she was in the bathroom, and he must have been speaking directly out of his window because I could hear him perfectly. At some point he asked her "Do you know the name of that movie Denzel Washingtion did, before Antwon Fisher? Where he was wrongfully convicted?" She didn't. So, lying in bed riveted to their conversation as I was, I screamed out "The Hurricane." To which I got a nice thank you, and a move away from the window.) One 5am they decided to give the Immaculate Collection a workout, which I totally sympathize with. I almost got up and started dancing on my bed to "Like a Prayer" before I realized that I was, oh right, trying to sleep. That night I dreamt of San Pedro.

2) Really angry fight between drunken boyfriend and door buzzer. Because apartments on the shaft are about 10 feet apart (the rule really does apply to everything,) when something rings in someone else's house on or near my floor, I'm all like, huzuh? I'm getting a dial tone, how is my phone ringing?
The buzzer is incredibly, incredibly loud, which is mostly a good thing, except when someone else's boyfriend is not taking no for answer. Here's how it went:
"BUZZZZ."
"BUZZZZZ."
"BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ."
"BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ."
"FUCKING BITCH."
"Jake?"
"Oh, hey baby. Let me up"
"What time is it?"
"Baby, let me up."
"Are you drunk?"
"Let me the fuck up."
"Jake?"
"Open the fucking door."
"BUZZZZ"
"BUZZZZZZ"
"BUZZZZZ"
[Some neighbor screams] "LET THAT ASSHOLE IN. I'M TRYING TO SLEEP"

3) The recorder. Someone was practicing Hot Cross Buns before running off to 2nd grade this morning. After that rousing rendition of the classic, during which I had blearily opened my eyes and wondered if I was dreaming, followed by a serious bout of confusion, the boy wonder started doing that thing kids do when they can't play an instrument, namely, creating really piercing and discordant sounds for a very, very long period of time. Officially, the recorder should no longer exist