Tag Archives: neighbors

I have *just* the gift for you.

30 Dec

What? It's just a foot spa.

Backstory: I live below an otherwise nice guy (Matthew) who makes a ridiculous amount of noise. I’m convinced he and his partner (Jack) actually stable a horse and lead it from room to room with bowling balls dragging behind it periodically. Did I mention that they have hard wood floors?

The following is a transcript from my chat with Alan this morning.

Alan:  hi there! how was yoga this morning?

me:  great! matthew helped ensure i made it by firing up the stomping machine around 5am.

Alan:  i guess he’s good for something once in a while

Alan: maybe we should have gotten him and Jack christmas presents – like weight loss videos?

me:  or amputatations  😀

Alan: do they have gift certificates for that? or would we just offer to do an amateur job for them?

me:  give them a wood chipper

Alan:  nice

me:  and tell them it’s a foot spa!

Alan:  maybe we should have gotten them really big, fluffy slippers with super-padded soles

me:  filled with razor blades!

Alan:  okay. we’re not going the compromise route this morning. I get it. 

Revenge is best served in clogs.

24 Oct

I haven’t posted about my noisy upstairs neighbor for a while, not only because I didn’t have much fodder for a post, but also because I didn’t want to jinx things by telling you how good he’s been.

Oh, don’t get me wrong — I’d never mistake his unit for vacant. But he’s been pretty good about limiting his walk-abouts to more normal hours, quieting down by 11pm and not starting up (officially) until around 6am most day — unless it’s the weekend, in which case he’s pretty good until around 7am.

That’s a vast improvement over his previous schedule (during which I could only bank on silence from 1am – 4am each day).

This weekend my parents were visiting from Michigan. I always get a bit tense when I have guests, hoping Michael remains on good behavior so everyone can get a good night’s sleep. Before going to bed the first night, my mom asked how the noise situation had been lately.

“Great,” I told her. “It’s much better than it was. I can actually live with the pattern we’re in now.”

“That’s great,” she responded. “You know what you should do? Take him a bottle of wine or something and make a big deal out of how good he is – a little positive reinforcement.”

I nodded thinking, “No thanks — he’s not THAT good.”

Fast forward to the next morning. I was brewing coffee when my mom emerged from the bedroom around 8am, which is early for her vacation schedule. “Sleep well?” I asked.

“Until the last hour,” she commented. “Ever since Michael got up, I’ve been hearing him.”

“Well, at least it started around 7am,” I said. “That’s at least reasonable.”

The look on Mom’s face told me she didn’t find 7am reasonable. “You know what you should do?” she asked, oddly reminiscent of the previous evening’s conversation. Bracing for another lesson in positive reinforcement, I was halfway through an eye roll when she said, “Make friends with the people who live above him. Then you can go up there and stomp around to pay him back.”

There we go. Now that’s the kind of advice I expect from someone who once gift wrapped dog turds for a guy who let his dog crap in her yard. In fact, I won’t be surprised if the next time they visit, she brings along a pair of shoes that look like this:

You would see, the perfect gift would be from me…

24 Sep

Since I moved into my new place three months ago, I’ve had only one complaint: my upstairs neighbors charge around like water buffaloes at all hours of the night, squeaking the floorboards above my bed to such an extent that I’ve developed insomnia.

I’ll skip the back-story (mainly because it’s boring), but a few weeks ago we invited said-neighbors down for a glass of wine with the hopes of having a friendly discussion about their floor.

Somehow, one glass of wine turned into several bottles, and my couch turned into a confessional for my neighbors (two gay men who are partners in their early 40s). They started opening sentences with, “You don’t know this about me, but…”

By far, the best admission of the night was when Jude revealed that he had not only dated women in his not-so-distant past, but also then went on to profess his skill at (and enjoyment of) certain decidedly STRAIGHT sexual activities.

They were also into astrology, so we learned that Michael is a Pisces and Jude is a Cancer. Now if only Jude had proclaimed himself to be a paleontologist. I think I could’ve surprised him with the perfect birthday present:

Somehow, I think that if Jude started sporting that shirt, I might only have to tolerate ONE set of footsteps above me each night. On second thought, it’s not a BAD plan, even if he’s not into dinosaurs.