My first neighbour was a lovely lady that I knew through mutual acquaintances. It wasn't until much further down the road that I really got to know her, as a neighbour I didn't make any moves to. I was nineteen when I moved in and the first thing I noticed was that she liked to play one of my favourite Christmas albums all the time, but what was more unusual is she played one song on that album on repeat; every time she was home, all the time. I don't know if she ever knew that I or my guests could hear her, but anyone who came to visit me turned it into a game and would count how many times she would play it while they were at my place.
In my second apartment which was my first one in the City there was some interesting folk, which I nicknamed as the elephant man, the money-man, text-aholic, water-wasters, and finally the landlord.
Elephant man was a guy who stampeded up and down the stairs in the building as he was coming and going, as well as all over his apartment. The way he moved never changed, he always appeared to sound as if he was in true stomping form wherever he went. All that was missing was him trumpeting through his nose.
The money-man was a guy who constantly liked to do work around the building for the landlord for money. In fact whenever you talked to him all he could discuss was ways to work on the premises for cash.
Text-aholic was a friend of ours who lived in the building for awhile and she constantly texted at all hours because she never stops typing and never puts down the phone and unfortunately I was sometimes the target of her endless texts. I envisioned how she was unable to function in the rest of her life with that cell in hand; turned out she didn't, and the fifteen-hundred texts she sent in a month to people (this is not including the ones she received) was a clear indicator of that.
Water-wasters were a family who lived in the apartment above who always had water running. Whether it was in the tub, bathroom sink, or kitchen sink, all three could be heard being ran for most of the day, and sometimes it seemed like all day. It was so bad that the landlord saw the water bill and stomped around to all the suites to ask if anyone had any leaks until he discovered that they were running their taps all the time. They eased up after... only a bit though.
Third apartment building was actually excellent! Rarely had any noise issues! Hurray!
Now, for the building I am living in presently: there is red underwear man, the screecher, dude who only wanted my number, college students, and the couple next door.
I had a very quiet neighbour living next to me until screech-man took his place. He screeches when he talks (which is volume LOUD) or worse, screech-sings! My sister Cam says it sounds like a cow giving birth on Papa's farm. Sometimes the screecher uses a normal voice but it is rare. Furthermore I had to keep knocking on his door and reporting him for his loud music and TV; most of what he watched on his TV involved women horribly screaming as if they were being tortured. Then he also beat up his poor boyfriend on a couple occasions. Plus, any story he tells about any women he is acquainted with he talks about how he wants to hurt them in various ways (smack, hit, punch, and kick were the words I have heard). He seems proud when he talks about hurting women like that, which tells me he is just a very violent creature altogether.
The guy across the hall has many loud parties, slams his door all the time, and is obsessively checking his door knob (I mean the door handle and not any parts of his body when I say knob by the way). Also, he constantly leaves his empty liquor bottles in the room with the garbage chute. At first I thought he did it to allow others to take advantage of making money, or, perhaps he was just lazy, turned out it was neither. I overheard him one day tell his friend that it was so the homeless wouldn't be able to collect them from the recycle bin outside. So I take them down to the homeless with my bottles behind his back. The latest thing is I discovered he wears red underwear (hence his nickname) because he was out and about in the hallways in only that while pressed against his door staring through the peep hole growling.
There is the guy upstairs who has troubles keep the noise level down as well who apparently was trying to get a date with me or something. When he found out he was noisy and it bothered me he left an apologetic note with his phone number. Then he went out of his way to be noisy again and when I confronted him he asked why I didn't use the number to call or text, then we could have each other's numbers (while checking me out). I still call security on him when he can't be quiet.
The people beside me right now are not too bad, but the girl who lived there before that was a different story.
There had lived a girl and she had a guy living there too in secret as his name was not on the lease but he didn't hesitate to live off her and park his vehicle in the parking stalls without paying for it. They were either fighting, or having rough sex; only those two things seemed to keep occurring with these two. She whined he was always trying to get with other girls and would saying how hot they looked and how he wanted them to her and his friends. She complained that she was angry for it and she was the only mature and committed one in the relationship. His response was always the same thing and always in the same confused, tired (lacking any intellect) tone, and that was he loved her, he didn't know what she was talking about, and saying the word baby over and over while asking her to come to him. Then the last time I heard them fight before they moved out was when she demanded he read her mind. When he didn't know what to say she then re-worded it by demanding him to tell her what she was thinking right now at that moment. After a long pause someone stormed out of the room, slamming the door. As for the sex, it only would last ninety seconds on average. All it sounded like was her moaning and groaning as loud as she could and he just did whatever he wanted for less than two minutes. Yup! Their record was maybe two minutes and ten seconds. But the sex ended in the weeks prior to departure when my Mom was visiting and I accidentally voice loudly by the wall that separated my suite from the sex that was about twenty seconds in at that moment of how she just makes as much noise as possible while he is just forcing her into it because there is no way she is having a good time with only a minute and a half of a show; I also added how she is too busy faking it while he is just too lazy to be a real lover for it to be real at all. Suddenly when I said this there was silence on the other side of the wall and someone stormed out of the room and slammed the door (that happened a lot let me tell you). From that moment on there was no more sex from them while they stayed in the building.
Any readers got any funny or shocking neighbour stories?
~Ange
Copyright 2014 Lucky 33: Stories, Experiences, Perspectives, and Opinions of a Woman Who Made It To Her Thirties.
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