My upstairs neighbors have sucked sucked sucked since the day I moved in. They don’t get home until 9 or 10 each night, but when they do they stomp around and reinact Mexican wrestling matches until the cows come home. Night after night, I’ve cringed in my bed after ever slam/thud/shudder wondering if that’s the one that’s going to wake up A and send me over the edge. I envisioned snatching him up, running up the stairs in my underpants with crazy bedhead and confronting them. Luckily, I’ve seen enough episodes of nightline to know that beating on strangers’ doors isn’t the best course of action, so I have refrained. Each time I have vowed that I will call the apartment office the next day, but I never do. Maybe it wasn’t that loud, I tell myself. I’ll look foolish, I think. That’s a first world problem for sure, I say.
Not tonight. Tonight, I had enough. One too many thud/cringe combos and I dialed the courtesy officer before I could lose my nerve. He was so very pleasant and reassuring (Me: “They’re like stomping? On my head? and it makes me sad? But I don’t want to hurt their feelings?” Him: “There’s no reason for that. Call this number. We’ll send someone. It’s all going to be okay, ma’am.”)
And send someone they did. He was a strapping young man with a friendly smile, or maybe it was more like when dogs bare their teeth out of fear? I’d be scared too if a crazy lady threw open her door, revealing a completely dark house and her standing there looking like Weird Al on a bad hair day, with a towel held over her body to hide the fact that she was in her underwear and totally unprepared for gentleman callers. Especially if she then hissed at me that “my son is SLEEPING in the room right there” and gestured to the window,causing the towel to slip a bit, “and my neighbors may not know that I live here or they may just be raging assholes I’m not sure but can you please make it stop and I swear I’m not crazy kthxbai.”
I probably should have found a better way to introduce myself than by dispatching the cops to their door and I hope they don’t hate me. Maybe there’s a single female in the residence and she’ll appreciate the city’s finest on her doorstep. I don’t hold out much hope even then, because I’m pretty sure I just scared him off women forever.