Monday, September 14, 2009

Passive-Aggressivity with the downstairs neighbors:

So, I live on the third floor of a three-family house. The landlord’s son and his girlfriend, cat, and totally sweet pitbull live on the first floor. There are two or three girls (there were three, and I think two moved out and one moved in) who live on the second floor. I have a large studio and two cats and heat included on the third floor. I try not to make a lot of noise. Clearly, everyone else in the building does the same, because I have been here for 3 months and I’ve almost never heard a peep. That is GREAT.
Recently, however, there have been some things. Physical items that have gotten in the way of my successfully walking up/down the three (count ‘em, three) flights of stairs to get to/from my apartment.
First, it was two bikes. The one was placed to the side in the rather modestly sized entrance way. The other: right in the middle of that entrance way so that just as I came in at 9:30pm (an hour of darkness), I put my leg through some metal parts of the bike and simultaneously tripped over one of the wheels. I fell into the first bike and dumped the contents of my large purse on the floor. I then extricated myself and felt around for the light switch. I re-assembled my bag, righted myself, and kicked that fucking bike. (Bike whereabouts update: The next day that bike was locked to the railing on the stairs, which the landlord said could NO LONGER HAPPEN. I have not seen bike #2 since. Bike #1 remains in the entrance way, and I have yet to fall into it again.

The OTHER thing is that the people in the second floor apartment now always leave their shoes in the hallway on the way up the stairs. This, by itself, doesn’t bother me at all. If you put your shoes to the side, I can easily walk around them. But these people don’t put their shoes to the side, they line them up just under the first stair leading up to the third floor, as if no one will have to ascend those stairs. As if those stairs are there for purely cosmetic reasons. Well, let me tell you, I busted my ass on those shoes in the dark too.

I know what you’re thinking: two words – HEAD LAMP. But no. Instead, my man and I have taken to piling those shoes up right in front of their apartment door. Perhaps if someone trips over them on the way out, they’ll see… I don’t know, they’ll see how annoying it is to trip over someone’s carelessly-placed shit. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.


die Frau said...

Good luck! And go to to get ideas on what to write if the shoe idea doesn't work. I like the bag o' crap, myself.

Wonderland said...

That's fricken hilarious! All of it!