Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Love Thy Neighbor (Unless He Is An Idiot)


Everyone hates their neighbor.  Everyone.  Or atleast one of their neighbors (or one they used to have).   

Doesn't matter if you live in the U.S., in Germany or in a hut in a village in Africa, EVERYONE has a neighbor they can't stand.

I have had a long string of crappy neighbors.  Back in 2001 I lived with 3 other buddies in a giant house in Woodland Hills in Los Angeles, CA.  Our neighbor was Paul Waaktaar-Savoy  who was the Guitarist of A-HA.  For those of you who are my wife's age (born in the 80's so not old enough to enjoy the 80's) and have no idea what A-HA is, just look up the words "Take On Me" on youtube.   

Problem is, Pauly (while the coolest guy on the block) loved to play his guitar at like 3 in the morning on a Wednesday.  Sometimes, my roomates and I didn't mind.  Heck, the guy showed up to our party once and I think he took some exstacy.  He didn't live in this house all the time.  I think it was a place for him for when he came to LA to probably record an album.  But when he was there, the music would be on ALL the time. 

A few years later, I moved to a building where the neighbor had a kid who loved knocking on my door and when I would open it up and ask the little 5 year old what the heck he wants, he would laugh and run off.  So finally one day, I opened the door with a Gurilla mask I had from Halloween and scared the shit out of him.  He never came back.  He probably never went to a zoo again either.

Few years after that, Sexy Swedish Wife and I lived in Santa Monica in California.  We had an Irish 55 year old man living across from our bedroom window.  This Irish guy had three things that drove us nuts.   1)  He loved drinking and then following it up with grabbing his guitar (at 2 or 3 in the morning) and singing Irish songs.  I could only make a few of the words out.  Not because of the accent, but because the guy was so drunk he sounded like a screaming baby cow being crushed under a semi-truck.  2) The second thing this guy loved doing is talking REALLY loud.   
I come from a family of loud talkers, so I can tolerate it.  But when you are drunk, the loud talking becomes a bit annoying.  So at 4:00 a.m. on a Thursday, you can hear this guy (who lived with his 20 year old son) talking politics, theories and guitar songs really loud.  I once went to tell them to shut the fuck up.  They told me to "Fuck Off" with the thick Irish way, and I did.  I called the cops and they were slapped with a ticket when the really drunk 20 year old son thought it would be a good idea to tell the officers to "Fuck-Off as well".  idiot.

The third and final thing that annoyed us about our Irish neighbor was that he was a 55 year old man who loved having fetish sex with large black women.  I am all for sex.  I am all for fun sex.  Whatever floats your boat....by all means, have fun.  Just be safe.  But this guy used to love to put the whole leather mask on while putting a gag ball in the womans mouth and smacking her with a whip.  It was gross.  It felt like they were recreating scenes from Pulp Fiction.  
Problem was that we could see and hear them.   We obviously didn't want to try and see, so we shut the windows and blinds.  But, both he and his (endless amount) of lovers, would scream like they were being tortured in Abu Gharib.  You could actually hear the smacking sound of the whip hitting her ass cheeks.  It was gross.

Now, I don't care that he was Irish.  I don't care if he enjoyed drinking.  I don't care if he enjoyed yelling at his son because he couldn't figure out how to play "The Unicorn" correctly on the acoustic guitar.  But, I have to draw the line at screaming during fetish-theme sexual acts after midnight on a weekday.   I can lose sleep over trucks picking up trash, I can lose sleep over a dog down the street barking.  I refuse to lose sleep over a woman screaming "Hit me harder!" to a man who can't reply because the zipper on his leather mask is closed.

Moving on.  One year later and now Wife and I are in NYC.  The apartment in NYC is by far the apartment that has the most neighbors.  I have a neighbor from each side as well as top and bottom.  Someone to our left, someone to our right, someone behind us, above us and below us.  Ofcourse, there is one side that has windows, but that faces the street which has traffic, honking cabs, screaming homless people, singing drunks, and firetruck sirens every 14 minutes. 

I have no problem with any of the neighbors except one.  The guy above.  I have a problem with him because he is an idiot.  

A little back story.  Swedish Sexy Wife and I came home one night a few months ago after a night out on the town drinking.  When we arrived at home at 2:30 in the morning, we found our couch in the living room soaking wet.  Why?  Because water was dripping from my ceiling.  I called the "Super" and told him.  He mentions to me that there are no pipes above me so it can't be a busted pipe. He did say to go check on the neighbor above.  I go bang on the neighbors door and after 10 minutes he answers.  I tell him water is leaking on my sofa.  The guy responds "Well, it ain't me" and then shuts the door.

12 hours later, my super finds out it WAS the fault of the guy above. Idiot installed his Air Conditioner himself and forgot that little part in the instructions that says that you should tilt the A/C outwards from your window, otherwise, your floor will fill up with water.  Which it did.  Filled with water, went thru the cracks in his wooden old floor, and down thru my cheap ceiling and onto my new IKEA couch.  
When I went back up the next night to tell the guy, all he could say is "Sorry dude" and shut the door.  He didn't bother to even offer for dry cleaning of the couch covers.

Few weeks pass and I wake up in bed at 4:00 in the morning.  For some reason, its raining in my bedroom.  I turn the light on and same story as the living room, my ceiling in my bedroom is leaking.  Same routine, I call the super, he tells me to go check on the guy upstairs.  This time I am furious.  I slam on the neighbors door. He opens it up and after telling him what the fuck is going on, he comes back and says "oh yeah dude.  My bathtub flooded.  Sorry." and shuts the door.  You MORON!  How the hell do you flood a bathtub at four in the morning?

I later found out from the Super that this guy has done this like 6 times in the past few years.  He apparently falls asleep or something while his water is running and then it floods his floors.  The super said the last guy in our apartment moved out because he was sick and tired of his stuff getting ruined.  I notified building management but they (being an NYC building management company) basically in a polite way gave me the "We don't really give a s***" speech.

Which leads us to this morning.  This same neighbor is a heavy walker.  I mean, this guy walks around like he is carrying gold bricks and Oprah Winfery in a backpack or something.  Me, I am a light sleeper.  I wake up from the crazy people yelling.  I wake up from the sirens.  I wake up from the cab honks at 7:45 in the morning.  I also wake up when my neighbor decides to stomp around at 5:00 a.m. and move furniture.  This is not the first time this happened.  This guy loves moving furniture around at the early hours.  He has done this a few times within the 8 months we have been living here.  Lastnight was very difficult.  He was dragging God knows what from the living room into the bedroom at 5:25 in the morning.  It sounded like as if he woke up at 5:00 and said to himself "you know what?  if I move my TV and sofa into my bedroom.  And move my bed and dresser into my living room, I will have a much bigger bedroom.  I should try this out! Like, now!"

It really sounded like he was moving his whole house from one side to the other.  Nevermind the fact that we just wrapped up Labor Day weekend where this guy had three days to move shit around.  No! He would rather wait until Tuesday's early morning to shift his furniture around.  

Long story short, I have been up since 5:25 a.m.  I am tired and cranky.  I have had 2 cups of coffee and its only 10:30.  I am about to go get another one after I post this.

I will probably go say something to the guy later this evening but it seems pointless since he will probably just open the door, say "sorry dude" and then shut it.  Then he will probably go flood his bathtub while passing out.  

Just wished he could pass out in the tub while he's flooding it.  

I am so tired.  I am done now.

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