I was all set with hopping on the pile on train and to mock away but then thought, what if “neighbor” was just the OP’s ineffective and imprecise way of writing “roommate?” It casts it in a different light but pseudo-meshes with the closing statements at the bottom about how the neighbors consider themselves family.
Anyway, just playing OP’s advocate.
Yes, and then he can check for magical pixies and elves who report back to their dark masters.
Also, check for beams from orbital mind-control-lasers.
Because they’re just about as likely as some guy breaking into some other guy’s apartment to plant secret devices so they can laugh when he farts in an effort to drive him MAD!
Now you are just trying to scare the guy.
Time to start having strange and unusual conversations just to mess with the neighbors.
If I were trying to scare him, I’d mention the spice-mice that are trained to live in his cupboards eating only dried herbs who report back to the neighbors about his cooking habits.
I share the suspicion that the OP may be in need of some mental health services.
I lived in a downstairs apartment once that had zero soundproofing or insulation. Some new neighbors moved in and I was sure they had a couple Great Danes or something. Sounded like really big dogs up there. I could hear them stomping from room to room, and if someone came to the door, I could hear the pitter patter of enormous dog feetz pattering over to the door. I love dogs and I had one myself so I was kind of looking forward to meeting these dogs on the dogwalk nearby.
One day, the girl had taken her dogs out and locked herself out accidentally. She banged on my door and asked to use my phone to call her BF to come let her in. She had a tiny Chihuahua in each hand. I asked if those were the enormous Great Danes I kept hearing upstairs. We had a good laugh.
Lesson: Wooden subfloors conduct sound and make things sound a LOT louder than they sound when you are in the same room with those sounds.
Another time, same tenants upstairs, I was entertaining a friend (Girls’ Chick Flick Night) and heard the guys upstairs stomping around. They weren’t really stomping, it just sounded a hell of a lot louder from below. Anyway, I heard this terrible crash, like someone dropped an entire cabinet of… something breakable, followed by a very loud, “Ah FUCK!”. Then we heard this weird crinkly sweeping noise. Whatever had been dropped was clearly being swept up. My friend and I spent the next hour making shit up in speculation about what had happened up there.
A couple weeks later, one of the guys stop by to introduce himself. Seizing the opportunity, I asked him, “Hey! I heard something crash last Friday night… What was it? My friend and I spent way too much time trying to figure it out.” He laughed and told me that he’d tried to use Corningware on the stovetop and quickly realized that you can’t do that because it had shattered. Ah. Crash, and then sweeping noises explained.
I was really happy to move out of there. I realized that the upstairs neighbors had about zero control of what I could hear from below. I never once suspected they were following me around dropping Corningware just to disturb me. I had visited other people who lived in upstairs apartments and noticed that you can’t hear shit from below, but you can hear everything from above.
I feel a little sorry for the OP’s neighbor, who probably can’t even hear the screaming at the ceiling from below.
for the record, if I heard my neighbor fart, I would laugh out loud too.
My neighbor of 35 years was recently carted off to a convalecent home due to a stroke. He was about 55 years old and a paranoid schitzophrenic. He put me through hell for the past 20 years imagining that I was spying on him and listening to him through his walls. I doubt your neighbor finds you that interesting, I would seek help if I were you.
Same here. Course, my closest neighbor is around 1/4 mile away.:eek:
Haughty indignation is the worst kind of indignation…
Well, I’m no jerk, and I haven’t lived in an apartment for over 10 years, but if I had heard someone breathing in really heavy hard breaths that make shrill like noises, and swallowing in loud gulps, then cutting a loud enough fart to be heard clearly through the wall, you’d damn well better believe that I would laugh my ass off.
If it happened often, I’d probably have friends over to hear it, because nobody would believe me otherwise.
That’s like something from a Mel Brooks movie.
It’s not that I think AShowers is crazy, just that starting the OP with a claim of anxiety and the detailed description of labored breathing makes me interpret the OP as a bit overwrought. Not crazy so much as unlikely to be completely accurate.
I’ve known one or two people with anxiety problems. Anxiety plays hob with the perceptions and can shift memories. I’ve had conversations where I ended up saying: No, I’m not mad at you. I didn’t even yell, like you’re claiming. I disagreed with you. That doesn’t mean I think you’re an idiot or a complete waste of time, it just means that I disagreed with you. Because, no, they didn’t say that. I was there. And no, they don’t hate you, they were just a bit irritated. They’ll get over it. I didn’t disagree to be mean to you, I thought you’d be releaved to know they didn’t say that and they don’t hate you . . . did you remember to take your pills?
Dealing with an anxious person is so much easier if they know they have an anxiety problem.
I am reminded of a story I read of a young man who was getting very mad at his roommates constantly making fun and mocking him in the next room. Let’s call this guy Joe.
One day, during a typical incident, Joe hears something like “Ha! Joe is such a loser that he hears us making fun of him, and we aren’t even here!” Joe checks the next room, and sure enough he is alone in the apartment. Turns out he was suffering from schizophrenia and having auditory hallucinations.
I’m not diagnosing anybody of course, I’m not a doctor. But if I were you AShowers, and I have incidentally been in a similar situation (no, I’m not Joe), I would ask other people if they hears the laughter too.
Good luck.
Slowwwwwly I turned… breath by breath… rip by rip!
I made mention of the fact that the neighbors were paying too much attention to me to my family. My family didn’t believe a word. I “guess” they, the farts next door, heard this and started behaving even nastier to me. I hoped that by uttering this statement it would alert them to stop listening in on my conversations and to mind their own business, but I guess it backfired. Now, they seem to be living near the sides of the walls. Listening even more closely to the conversations I have with my family. I am not making this up…every time I say something. I can hear them go “huh?” as in “what did I just hear?”. It is so sickening. I don’t have any privacy whatsoever even at home. I don’t have the means to move, but I really need to move. It’s no longer a want. It’s a need right now.
Just for the record: I don’t give a rat’s ass about their worthless lives. I just want them to stop interfering in mine.
Thank you for your suggestion. I have looked up several kinds of soundproofing ideas. I heard QuietRock is good. They seem to be quite expensive though, but I will definitely check to see if I can get the foam insulation sheets at a nearby Home depot, or Lowe’s store.
What if they follow you to the store?
This is sounding less and less like a problem with your neighbors and more and more like a mental illness. Consider making an appointment with a psychiatrist.
Niagra Falls!
I haven’t thought of that in years.