March 28th, 2005, 10:58 pm
Angry Neighbors
What makes people angry neighbors? What is bad enough to make you call the cops on someone?
Situation: They moved upstairs during my first jaunt to Atlanta. I’ve been downstairs today, working on web stuff and packing intermittently. 2 p.m. they started banging on the ceiling. Now — I’m sympathetic about needing quiet — but 2 p.m.? C’mon! The neighbor — genderless, since I never interacted with them — came down and banged on my kitchen door, repeatedly. Now — I have three days left in this apartment. It was the middle of the day, the music wasn’t loud, and I didn’t feel like interacting with someone who would introduce themselves by banging on my goddamn door. Come downstairs, knock politely, explain you need quiet for x,y,z; then we have a deal. But start off by slamming what, a broomstick on your floor? Sorry pal, but you and I don’t interact.
So, I continued to listen to my perfectly reasonable music. Said neighbor being not very bright, they ran between my kitchen door and my front door — never thinking to perhaps stop at one of the thirteen windows in the apartment to grab my attention. This was alternated with periods where said individual would go upstairs, and bounce a (basketball?) up and down on the floor; wherever they thought I was.
I mean, really, gang. The music was not loud. And I’m stubborn. So I let said neighbor do their thing for gee … what has it been, ten hours? I left the house a couple of times to get boxes, Drano, dinner, and they must have left too — but everytime I got comfortable … boom! The noise again.
This all ended approximately ten minutes ago, as I was typing the beginning of this post … and I heard the crackle of a cop’s radio outside of my window, near my desk. “10-4″ crackled the cop, and he wedged his way back to his car. He’d caught me listening to … Field Mice, like the mellowest indie faux-Smiths around. Clearly, he thought I was not a menace to society; I never even saw his face.
But Christ, man, what kind of people are these? I mean, really, I can’t imagine calling the cops on anyone. I can’t imagine what’s going on with these people that makes them so damn angry.
Have you ever been an angry neighbor?
October 6th, 2005 at 11:04 pm
I’ve been an angry troll, but never an angry neighbor. In regards to being a noisy-guy-next-door, I’ve only been a nuisance by accident. My freshman year in college, the girls who lived below our townhouse had to take all their photos down. When my roommate or I would come down the stairs, our vibrations would knock all their pictures down. And I’m not even a hefty type.
Congrats on your place. I love Cabbagetown. When do you start at dat Loafing de Creativo?
October 6th, 2005 at 11:05 pm
Did I ever tell you my angry roommate story? How he got into a fight with Frank and I and told his mom, who threatened to call the cops on us? It’s a classic.
October 6th, 2005 at 11:06 pm
Larry — Yes, I do recall that story. Calling the mom is funny. Calling the cops is well … evil.
Thomas — I’ve been working at Creative Loafing’s paper in Tampa (Weekly Planet) since Halloween … doing the back and forth thing since Valentine’s, and now, post-Easter, I’m making the real trek up.
Yeah, Cabbagetown is the ultimate. I dig the creative vibe around there; I’m kinda obsessed with figuring out the history of the cottages and the mill, and definitely sampling all that Agave has to offer.
October 6th, 2005 at 11:06 pm
Ya’ll, let me just say: Judge not, lest you live below four guys who regularly bring the Jackson Five , Usher or any other, equally loud rap into your bedroom at FOUR O’CLOCK in the MORNING - not 2 p.m., not even 2 a.m. …
Damn straight I’ll call the cops on you, if after humble treks upstairs, begging you to turn the subwoof down, warnings, talks and promises that you’ll do it, it’s pounding in my chest again 15 minutes later.
2 p.m. packing boxes? No problem. Completely innocent and certainly not worthy of a visit from the local PD. I support Laura all the way on that.
But let me speak in defense of what you call evil: When you have no other way of getting through to people, when you’ve tried everything and they say one thing and do another, the cops seem to be the only thing keeping some idiots in check. Not to mention that in the real world, you get fined for being an inconsiderate butthead who just can’t seem to remember to keep it down. (Not the case with these guys, mind you, we were in a private housing setting.) Sometimes burning a hole in someone’s pocket is the only way to get through to them.
So I’m sorry, but just as Laura should be able to listen to Field Mice in peace, I should be able to get some sleep without “If you’re horny, just do it…” slapping my brain in the wee hours of the morning.
October 6th, 2005 at 11:07 pm
I like the idea of a penis pills blog.
7p.m.
So, I took some penis pills. Not really sure if this is going to do anything.
8p.m.
Found this great story on penis pills. Read it here.
9p.m.
Oh jesus. I have to go now.
May 3rd, 2006 at 4:26 pm
the lady upstairs in my appartment in san antonio would get all pissy if i even walked around, no music needed. And she could just NOT STAND me opening and closing the sliding glass door. EVER. She lived with her daughter (how lame) and neither of them ever talked to me, they just ran to yell at the managers. I so wanted to bake her a pie with a bottle of tylenol PM in it…