My apartment’s in a normally a quiet neighborhood, so I’m a little surprised the party upstairs keeps getting louder and more boisterous, even though it’s well past midnight. There’s people dropping beer cups from the balcony and people talking loudly on the stairs, despite the fact that it’s been raining harder than any storm we’ve had in the past three years.
Thankfully, when I’m at my computer with loud music playing I can’t hear the noise they’re making – or, at least, until the party spread into the bedroom above mine. Now I can hear the bed upstairs creaking, in that steady tell-tale rhythm, accompanied by very loud THUMPS on the floor and POUNDING on the walls. It’s really distracting me from working on this tender scene in my novel featuring two vampires in love…
My God, they’re still at it. Don’t know whether to call the cops or grab my video camera.
My sister used to live in a complex where her downstairs neighbors were from Brazil, and whenever there was a big soccer match featuring the Brazilian team, guess where the entire Brazilian population of the area would come to have an enormous bbq and yell constantly for 8 hours? :rolleyes:
I say it’s time for the vampires to go kill some loud people, to make you feel better.
The people above me used to fuck every. single. morning. at 5:00. Finally, my girlfriend at the time (current wife) got a little bottle of WD40, attached a note asking them to please lubricate the springs, and left it at their door. We never heard them again.
Ooooooo, I was once in a month long ambassadorial exchange in southwestern Japan where I was vastly outnumbered by a group of twenty-odd Brazilians. Absolutely wonderful people and lots of fun, but after a month I really, really, really feel for your sister. 4 hour bus trip for me equals taking a much-needed nap. For the Brazilians it equaled a drunken rave and shouting contest.
I’m starting to get he feeling my upstairs neighbours have a pet elephant. And elephant who likes rap music :smack:
If you’re going to play your music that loud, at least play something good. (Not that I can tell what they’re listening to half the time, as all I can hear in the bass.) I really don’t know what the thumping is about either, as it isn’t loud most of the time–just when we’re trying to get to sleep.
You know what, I want the neighbour who was having sex every night back. That wasn’t as annoying.
My girlfriend has a guy upstairs who vacuums on weekdays, midweek, from 8 or 9 to 11 or 12 at night. Every week like clockwork, except sometimes he mixes it up and goes on Tuesday instead of Wednesday.
The building has all hardwood floors.
She’s asked him to please vacuum some other time or for not so long, his choice, and he’s responded that it’s really out of his hands - he has to vacuum, after all. He does the thumping bass thing, too.
I’ve already decided he’s insane, but I haven’t yet settled on a theory of what exactly he’s up to.
I’ve complained about my downstairs neighbours and their domestic disputes before, but the few times I’ve heard the upstairs neighbours getting it on, I’ve tried to ignore it on the principle that You Can Be as Loud as the Hell You Want (When You’re Makin’ Love).
Also to build karma (hey, I get some sometimes too – I consider it revenge on the people downstairs, but the people upstairs are innocent).
Long, long ago, back in college the ex SO and I lived in a tiny apartment with paper-thin walls. One day in the bathroom, I could hear clearly the conversation leading up to, the act, and the aftermath of one of the girls upstairs getting her first anal intercourse experience from her boyfriend (they wanted to do it with her standing in the tub “in case something comes out”).
It was not nearly as interesting as it might sound.
I have met him, and my hope was that he would be Monk or Raymond Babbitt or something, and could repay his sonic transgressions by solving crimes or recalling perfectly what my girlfriend said in an argument two months ago, but sadly, no. He’s just kind of a jerk.
I just want to know what and why the hell he’s vacuuming for that long, because the suspense is killing me. So far I’ve come up with paranoid drug dealer, weekly-instead-of-full-moon-only-werewolf who sheds, Monk, murderer, and plain old asshole.
I’ve always lived in top-floor apartments, so I’ve never had much of an issue with noise. I am pretty tolerant of noise anyway since I feel that is part of the price you pay for living in an apartment.
I have thought about calling the police the next time I hear my downstairs neighbors having one of their frequent shouting matches though. Sometimes I worry about the wife of that crazy-sounding angry guy.
Clearly you have never lived in the apartment above the one occupied by an extended family (6 adults and an infant) of Pentecostals who like to listen to televangelist programming on their 3 TV sets on high volume from about 11PM to 2AM or so. Daily. Did I mention that their apartment functioned as the gathering place for their respective extended extended families, friends, and anyone else who they wanted over?
We did. It’s why we live in a detached house now.
Never was distracted by the sounds of people fucking in the adjacent apartment, though. That particular distinction goes to (eek) my parents, during one of my visits home from college.
I was hoping for a posting about the next day when Don’t Call Me Shirley heard from stupid neighbors apeartment: spritzzz
“Fuck! That Stings…! You Asshole! That STIIIIIINGS!!!”
We live half a block from a commercial street and the owner of one of the businesses has leased his upstairs room (with windows conveniently facing our way) to a would-be drummer. He rehearses every evening from about 5 til about 9. He’s not getting any better.
