I hear caterwauling and smell ganja.

Well, hooray hooray, a couple weeks ago our downstairs neighbour (whose name actually isn’t Dave) got the boot. No more middle-of-the-night drunken yelling, bumping, moving furniture, tapping on windows, etc. Ahh. The entire apartment building had a big BBQ to celebrate the event.

However, now, there are maintenence men downstairs. It’s no big deal, since they only work in the daytime, and I’m the only one here and I don’t care much, and besides, it has to be done. Sounds like a total renovation going on down there, too: I hear things being torn down, table saws running, hammers pounding, smashing, crashing, stapling, you name it. The apartment was in shambles when the tenants were ejected, but it seems to be getting a total overhaul, and will likely be the icest apartment in the complex by the time it’s finished. The men work hard, and I often stop and say hello to them on my way to work.

But today is different. I don’t have to go to work until 2pm, and usually on Friday the men don’t work. However, one guy showed up today, the “old fat white guy” as the lady next door calls him, by himself, in his truck, and ambled on down there. The hammering began, and I just thought he was either finishing up some minor thing, or he was just a damn good little worker. Then he turns on his stereo. Again, I don’t care; it’s daytime and no one else is around, and I’m not doing anything important or requiring perfect silence. As I am washing up in the bathroom, he suddenly begins singing:


I did a spit take on my bathroom mirror while brushing my teeth. After cleaning that up, I wandered around the apartment cleaning things up. My windows are open. That’s when I smell it; the unmistakable smell of marijuana. Whoo. It’s strong. Dude.

I stuck my head out the front door. He walked outside from the downstairs apartment, munching on a burrito. Smiling.

Sigh. I wonder what’s going on with old Dave…

So that’s what Santa does in the off-season…

At least he’s mellow. Don’t harsh his mellow, man. :wink:

The maintenance dude likes Lonestar, I see.

That just gave me such a flashback to the tenant that used to rent our downstairs apartment in NY. I never heard a peep out of him except on Sundays, when he would clean house. He would blast his Meatloaf CDs and sing along TOP VOLUME. It was so freaking funny- I loved it.

If they offer brownies, say “yes”.

Is this the way the say “cool” up north? :smiley: (sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’m so ashamed)

When I read the title, I thought, oh man, the seagulls are back. :cool:

Dave’s not here, man!

I just wanted to pop into this thread and say that I did so because I learned a new word: “caterwaul”.

But I don’t think the particular word applies in this one, because according to the dictionary, the guy wasn’t complaining or whining. . . he was just singin’ along with the tunes.

. . . but I learned a new word. That’s all I care.

Ah, but depending on the dictionary:
intr.v. cat·er·wauled, cat·er·waul·ing, cat·er·wauls

  1. To cry or screech like a cat in heat.
  2. To make a shrill, discordant sound.
  3. To have a noisy argument.

I’m going for definitions 1 or 2. Either will suffice. :slight_smile: