Okay. Lemme start at the beginning.
About 6 years ago, a couple moved into the flat underneath mine. The very first Sunday night they spent there, they had a braai on their balcony, which is directly beneath where my flat used to have a balcony that had been closed in with glass. Their braai smoke filled my flat… so I went downstairs. On my way down I debated about going straight to them or to the caretaker, and for some reason I went to the caretaker instead. I cannot tell you why. Perhaps things may have been better had I gone straight to them? I’ll never know now- but somehow I don’t think it would have made a difference. They never had a braai on their balcony again- but they never forgave me for that little complaint either. They had it in for us from then onwards.
I will heretofore use “they” instead oh “him” or “her” because I can honestly not say who did what.
I have stone tiled floors in my flat, and for a long time I also had a metal and glass dining-room suite. I stopped using it because they would hammer in their ceiling if the knucklehead or I so much as bumped a chair- let alone pulled one out in order to eat at the table. I eventually got rid of the suite because I got so tired of constantly reminding Damien and any and all visitors PLEASE not to pull the chairs out from under the table but to lift instead them so as not to make a noise.
They hammered on my floor for the slightest indiscretion… and often Damien and I weren’t actually doing anything- like sitting watching TV- and they’d hammer on my floor because someone else’s noise had travelled through the walls- as happens in a block of flats!
We’d be levitating with fright whilst they furiously removed the plaster from their ceiling!
For the first couple of years after they moved in, they took up metal-work or some such as a hobby. I then was subjected to the sounds of grinders and the smells of paint and varnish and so on and so forth. They usually stopped mucking about when it got dark… so I could live with it and didn’t complain.
They also had a metal and glass door leading onto their balcony that they SLAMMED shut as hard as they could… Every. Single. Night. Often giving us a heart attack in the process- sound travels you see! Perhaps it was difficult to close- but it didn’t seem to worry them that the noise would worry the people living around them!
One time, during the three years I had to be at work by 6am, I was awake by 5 am every morning. The woman upstairs from me suddenly took to doing her spring cleaning at 4:30 in the morning! Moving furniture around and all- it sounded some days like she’d barricaded herself into her bedroom! It was a dreadful racket. But I didn’t complain as I was usually awake anyway and simply never got around to it… And “they” called my landlady telling her I was moving my furniture around!!! I was furious. I of course informed my landlady that it not me, and then also informed her about the other crap I’d had to put up with from downstairs.
A couple of times he even called my landlady complaining about us making a noise or some such when we weren’t even home! I took great pleasure in informing my landlady that he was wrong when she called me about this kind of crap.
I know Damien is no angel… I have never said he was and I have never denied his doing something wrong if I know he has pulled some stupid stunt, but these particular neighbours of mine really pushed their luck. I mean, I knew, from living in flats almost all my life, that you cannot expect perfectly wonderful neighbours and peace and quite all the time. You probably will hear them bathing, doing dishes, doing housework, going to the loo and shagging- because you live on top of each other- literally. And I know I’m not the friendliest of neighbours either. I do not go out of my way to get to know them at all. I was also more than prepared to put up with a fair amount of noise from my neighbours, especially since I had lived in the flat since my hyperactive knucklehead was just over 4 years old.
Thanks to “them” however, I spent years begging the knucklehead please not to walk too loudly. Please not to drop or throw things. Please to remember there are people beneath and next to us. It was unpleasant and I felt like I had to tiptoe around my own home.
Then last Saturday morning I got a call from my landlady. She had received a call from my downstairs neighbours again, complaining that Damien had been having a party and making a god-awful racket on the Friday night! I informed her immediately that we had not spent the night in the flat for almost two months and that Damien certainly had not been there alone all night. In fact, my folks had fetched Damien from school for me that Friday as he didn’t have his usual lift home, and he had actually not been to the flat at all!
I told her as much, loving that I could prove the wankers wrong, and mentioned that the hi-fi may be on as I leave it on so that there’s at least some noise from the flat whilst we’re not living there.
I then said I would pop round on the Saturday afternoon after I had done what I had planned for the day, and switch the music off. I then mentioned that if the hi-fi was too loud on Friday night- then it must have been too loud the whole week as we had barely been home and the music must have been on the same volume from late Thursday afternoon onwards, at least.
I reminded her that they had called her several times before with what turned out to be bogus accusations, and that I would appreciate her using a little logic in future when dealing with such issues.
I then spent most of Saturday fuming and stewing over the phone call and only my Glugster’s “interference” kept me from losing my cool altogether.
And to top it all, when we arrived at the flat later to switch the radio off and close the windows, it wasn’t even all that loud!
I was SO tempted to go downstairs and give the wankers a piece of my mind- but I called my landlady that evening and gave her a talking to instead.
like when he wrote “them“ an exceptionally profane “anonymous” letter, replete with horrendous penmanship and atrocious spelling, and I made him apologise when the dude came to my front door with it
there’s still furniture and boxes inside
their being open was also suddenly a bugbear for my landlady