Thursday, October 7, 2010

Love thy neighbor...not

I've had the worst luck with neighbors. My first really bad experience with people above began in 2005. A middle-aged lady moved in who would come home around 1-2a.m and then walk around the apartment in heels. A lot of times the sound of the heels would be overpowered by her moans--she had a new dude every week, and they all were younger than her.

Two years later her son moved in and thus began the worst two years on my life. His mother had a night shift every Friday and he had the apartment all to himself. Can you guess where this is going? He would bring his burn-out friends every Friday night for a party. They smoked weed on the fire escape and all the smell/smoke ended up in my room. They had really loud music on--same fuckin' beat all the time--and talked really loudly. All of that going on in a room above mine. At 3-4a.m. And no ceiling banging stopped them. He sometimes banged his girlfriend on Friday nights too. I heard all of that as well. So did my brother who was in the room next to mine. It was that loud.

So why didn't you do anything about it, you'd say. Well I did. A lot. I called 311 every time there was a party. Half the time cops didn't show up. When they did come, they would knock on the door, the asshole neighbor wouldn't open, and the cops would leave. The next day the report would say something like "No violation was found."
I also called my landlady a lot. She sounded sympathetic and did send them warning letters, but that never helped either. When we decided that we've had enough and began looking for a new place, those inconsiderate idiots moved out to another apartment in our building. The super made sure that their new downstairs neighbors were fine with them living there.

At the end of 2009 new people moved in. One of them had crutches. I was understanding for three months, but their promised carpets never came (just like the previous neighbors'). Thankfully they moved out after only a couple of months.

Around February of 2010 a new heard appeared. And I do mean a heard. At least 6 people. In a Junior-4 apartment. Which is not even legal. Two of those are kids, young ones. The ones who like to play ball at home and run around like crazy. The father has a voice that can wake up the dead. And then there's the mother, some old lady who is probably a mother of one of the parents, and some chick in her 20s.

My main problem with them was that they were moving things around at night. So I went up there one time and spoke to the chick in her 20s. She said that they're not crazy to move things at night and if I hear something next time, I should come up and check for myself no matter what time it is. And she's not putting in any carpets, no matter what the law says, because she's allergic. Well so are my parents, but we have rugs in every room, but the kitchen.

Around two not-so-quiet months passed by and I decided to take her up on her offer and went up there at 1 a.m. with my mom. The door was opened by totally different people. They said they don't know what we're talking about and the one big boom we heard was her kid falling out of the bed. I told her it seems like he falls every night in different rooms. And also to cover their damn floor with something, as the law requires. She said she can't because "the people we live with are allergic," referring to the chick I spoke to the first time. In that case, I said, I'll just call the cops next time I can't sleep because of you. She told me to shut up and that I'm wrong; she was clearly nervous. I never called the cops because I assumed they're illegal aliens. It would have been awesome to get rid of them, but I'm not that evil.

So at the end of September our super told us they're moving out as of October 1st. I was beyond happy. According to all the noise, I had no reason to doubt it--things were certainly moving. To my utter dismay I could not fall asleep that day, nor the day after. Why? Because they were still fuckin' there! And the furniture-moving sounds only intensified and began as a later time. They didn't let me sleep much last night. I finally dozed off around 4 a.m.,  but I was rudely awoken only 2 hours later as my whole apartment shook from something that sounded like 10 tons of furniture being dropped on the floor with full force. At six-fuckin'-a.m. Oh, and they haven't stopped as of yet.

The super confirmed that they are indeed moving out, and shall be out of my hair by the end of this week. I'm skeptical, but hopeful. And I'm looking for normal people to occupy that apartment before another bunch of morons comes here to continue driving me insane. So if you know someone who's looking for a place in Midwood part of Brooklyn, direct them to me for a mandatory preliminary screening.

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