The Upstairs Neighbors

My first post ever on this blog – after the About Me post – is about my neighbors. They must be one of the weirdest lots on this planet. Loud, foul smelling and wrinkly are all words to collectively describe them. But let’s get the upstairs neighbors out of the way first. I live in a building in which there are several apartments. In the apartment above me live an insane couple. Both of them are either really rich and well off and don’t need to work or have no jobs whatsoever. Either way both of them are off their respective rockers.

Every morning between 10 and 11, there is a sound of something hard bouncing on their floor. Naturally, living under them, I hear that annoying sound again, and again and AGAIN. It continues sometimes for an hour, sometimes two. I have no idea what in the freaking world that is but it is the worst thing. My guess is one of them likes playing with marbles and throws them on the floor. Why would they do that, you ask? BECAUSE THEY’RE NUTS, I’ll reply.

When those two aren’t bouncing unidentifiable hard balls (dirty thoughts anyone?) off their floor, they’re busy drilling holes, dismantling and rearranging furniture (I swear to you, this happens twice a week in a good week) and listening to loud music. The music is almost always one single track played over and over and over for hours on end. Until I can pick up my broom and bang it on my ceiling to the beat of the song. Whenever there’s a football game on – and these days the world cup is on – they have friends over. The friends love partying and dancing loudly on their floor – and my ceiling – and yelling random words out the open window while drunk.

And to cap it all, they argue like crazy. Or rather he calls her names. I have no idea if her replies are so quiet or seething that I can’t hear them or if she just doesn’t. Come to think of it, these arguments are mostly in the evenings and the next morning I almost always hear bouncing balls. There’s a budding theory in there somewhere connecting these two incidents…

You might say if I was a ballsy person and had the guts, I would give them a piece of my mind. But I don’t so I blog about it like the wimp that I am.


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