Dear Apartment 3

Mr. A. has been playing in a band with a couple of friends of ours. They practice in our friend's apartment, which, even though it's not my apartment, has always worried me a little bit. Like, don't the neighbors hate them? It's not like they're playing death metal at top volume, but still. I've had vicarious neighbor anxiety.

So anyway, Saturday they had practice, and when they came out they found the following taped to their door: