His pounding on the ceiling led me to begin jumping up and down on the floor screaming "FUCK YOU!" as loud as my lungs would allow. We continued about our lives, growing to hate the crazy troll who lived under us. Because of his condition, he had to be afforded special rights, including not moving him, at least not for something so trivial as pounding on ceilings at all hours of the day. Wait, move us? Why not move him? Well, apparently he's a ward of the state, a deranged mental patient who is not quite crazy enough to warrant placement in the state's assylums that were filled to capacity, but still quite crazy. We went to speak to our landlord, who graciously offered to move us to a different apartment.
Another day, I returned home to our empty apartment to hear pounding as I ascended the staircase no one was home, yet still the pounding occurred.Īt this point, it became clear that our downstairs neighbor was not a reasonable man. One night, we were awoken from our sleep at 4 am by pounding so heavy, it moved our bed. The pounds, though they seemed as though they had started in response to our making inordinate amounts of noise, now came at random. One or two pounds a week became one pound every other day. Things begin to progress, slowly at first. And it generally worked we got no more than one or two pounds from him a week. We, being accomodating liberal types, would try to curtail our noisy behavior so as to be as fair as possible to our downstairs neighbor. No loud neighbors, no complaints from neighbors, booyah.Īfter living there for a couple months, our downstairs neighbor started an annoying habit every now and then, when we were walking across our floor, he would begin pounding on his ceiling with what sounded like a broomstick.
The first couple months we lived there, everything was hunky dory. When I lived back East, I shared a 5th floor (top story) apartment with my girlfriend.
0 kommentar(er)
