Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Neighbors

I've lived in apartments for the better part of 20 years now. I've never felt settled enough to buy a house, and never felt financially able to take on a mortgage and upkeep. So, I've lived in a dizzying array of apartments.

Apartments have their advantages. If something breaks, I call the leasing office or landlord and they fix it at no cost to me. The landscaping always looks great and I don't have to lift a finger or break a sweat. In upstate New York, I didn't have to shovel snow. In Georgia, apartments come with central air conditioning, and most have swimming pools and exercise rooms.

Apartments also come with distinct disadvantages. Your rent can increase from year to year. There's not much space for entertaining or guests. I'm pretty sure I'm getting shafted on my water bill. And, neighbors come and go on a regular basis. This has to be the worst part of apartment living. Since I moved into my current apartment, I've had 3 different neighbors in the downstairs apartment. Each time one moves out, I pray for one thing: Lord, please send me a quiet neighbor.

Twice, my wish was granted. While my previous 2 neighbors had small children, I only heard them on rare occasions. It was bliss, and now it's over. I have a new-ish downstairs neighbor. He's a young fellow who moved in about 2 months ago. I've only seen him once or twice, both times in uniform. Seems he's assigned to the sailors' school in this landlocked college town.

I don't know much about him, and in the absence of real information, I'm constructing my own narrative from few visible clues. First, he has a hammock on his balcony. It's one of those hammocks on a stand. The hammock and stand barely fit on the balcony, so one end of the contraption is in the storage closet. The hammock seems to suggest that he enjoys lying outside, possibly in the sun. However, he never opens the blinds to his apartment, which suggests that he's a vampire. A vampire who dresses in sailor suits and likes to lie on a partially enclosed hammock.

Last week, the hammock vampire sailor found the volume on his television. I'm not sure what he's doing down there, but from my vantage point, it sounds like thunder. Intermittent, loud thunder. Annoying, irritating, distracting thunder. I'm guessing it's some kind of video game. Three to four hours every evening. Ugh.

All apartment dwellers know that there is a chain of responses to such disturbances. So far, I've used the "jump up and down" approach. So far, Sailor Vampire Boy is either a) blatantly ignoring my passive-aggressive message, or b) unfamiliar with the universal sign for "STFU" and is wondering why his upstairs neighbor is using the floor as a trampoline. So, today, I moved on to Step 2: Polite note on his door and discussion with leasing office staff. We'll see what happens. If nothing changes, I'll move on to Step 3: Sicking the leasing office staff on him. Here's hoping he doesn't turn into a bat and bite my neck. At least I can feel safe in my apartment because everyone knows that a vampire can't enter your home unless they are invited.

2 comments:

mplasticus said...

I think Sailor Vampire Boy is playing the same game as my downstairs neighbor, who, judging by his name, is either a porn star/superhero in disguise/professional wrestler/in witness protection. Hours and hours of intermittent loud thunder noises that drown out my tv or music. Usually after 11 pm.

Heg said...

I should have added that I have decided to fully embrace my new role as "the crotchety upstairs neighbor." I think it's a nice compliment to my other identity: "Dorky professor."