Surely you haven't forgotten the bitch slap post on my upstairs neighbors, have you? I'm not even going to bother to link it because their name says it all. They're professional hammerers or indoor oil drillers or people who test concrete shoes for the mob.
They're now going for the Hall of Fame.
They've removed their carpet and installed some sort of tile, which our new building manager says is ugly. Like that helps me. They've also installed a washing machine that is right over my bed. Their wooden picnic table and benches, which scream every time they're scraped in and out on the tiled floor, are also over my bedroom.
During 3 days of the loudest remodel in the world, I went blind.
I've heard they're pregnant and unless I'm mistaken, babies cry. And eventually bounce balls and scream obscenities at their parents. Or maybe that was just me. I asked another mother with grown children who in their right mind would install tile because of a baby and she replied,"Carpets can produce allergies." I grew up in an almost fully carpeted house and it's a MIRACLE I'M ALIVE. I tripped on a cord a few weeks ago and landed on my chin. Thank God there was carpeting or I would have split open my jaw. And bled to death on my way to the phone. Where 911 would probably have put me on hold.
I live in a singles building. No manager here has ever rented to couples with babies or small children. We have a pool with no winter cover, we have a bajillion stairs and our building has a courtyard with an echo so that when flies buzz in, it sounds like the Luftwaffe is passing over.
Sunday they had a child upstairs who ran back and forth training for the 2020 Olympics. Maybe they're practicing by babysitting? They're not going to make very good parents because they didn't try and trip the kid once. After hours of trying to write, I sent them an email because I was out of ammo.
Thank God for the Christmas sales.
End of chat.
Monday, December 29, 2008
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You're gonna have to step it up and make their life a living hell, Suzy. C'mon, I know you have it in you. I saw you with that last chocolate babka...you meant business :))
ReplyDeleteyou know what you're going to have to do? give them lots of loud toys for that kid...make them hate you as much as you hate them...because at some point she's going to want to sleep- and that baby is going to want to play with that loud lawn mower that makes an insanely loud sound - they don't call them tylenol toys for nothing. and you? please...this is your time to get even...she'll need her sleep. pregnant women need their sleep...they are always TIRED...now is your chance for revenge. REVENGE!! :)
ReplyDeleteThat's why we always live on the top floor.
ReplyDeleteAlthough two nights ago, I saw Phlegm Kadiddlehopper outside smoking a cigarette so now I know that his AM hacking is his own fault. I wanted to bitch slap him around the parking lot.
We keep earplugs next to the bed. Would you like me to send you a pair... unused, of course?
Time to do some McPounding of your own, methinks...
ReplyDeleteI can send my husband, the electrician, to redo the lighting in your whole apartment after the baby is born. You will keep changing your mind on fixtures so he’ll have to keep making holes and drilling stuff until they finally have enough and move because the baby’s lack of sleep is stunting its growth. I know it’ll work because nobody like bobble head babies.
ReplyDeleteYou need to keep reminding them that now is a really good time to buy a house.
ReplyDeleteI love having no neighbors.
I think I see a broom in your future--to use to bang on your ceiling.
ReplyDeleteNo jury in the world would convict you for any mayhem caused to these hideous people....
ReplyDeleteMJ
I've got earplugs and they own a house that they rent out. They suck.
ReplyDeleteI once dealt with a similar situation by getting a hold of his mother's phone number.
ReplyDeleteEvery time they kept me awake, I would call his mother to complain about it. Mother was not happy.
I hear horns and trumpets are good gifts to drive parents insane....
ReplyDeleteTime to take up smoking cigars...'cause those fumes? Float right up and linger, cling, and generally behave noxiously. Just leave 'em burning like incense - I swear that's what one of my neighbors did, and between the stogies and his four-hundred-cigarette-a-day habit, I smelled like a bar ashtray for weeks (until he either moved or died, I don't know which and don't care).
ReplyDeleteOr there's the route of plain old incense and loud Indian music, complete with chanting and gongs.
Or you could take up drumming.
I hope they find that living upstairs in an apartment isn't fun with a baby (and all the junque one has to haul along with the baby for all but the shortest jaunts), move into their own house, and leave you in peace.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K