Neighbor: a person living near or next door to the speaker or person referred to.
I consider myself an extremely good neighbor. I have a lot of experience. From a college dorm, apartment, house, duplex, and apartment, I always kept/keep the comfort of my neighbor’s, forefront. (If you don’t think I was a good neighbor, just ask any of the cul-de-sac homeowners when I owned a house in Manteca, CA. The ones involved in a 1 am skinny dip party in one of the swimming pools will be prejudiced no doubt. The first few seasons of Knots Landing weren’t too far fetched…)
I digress. When living in an apartment, I am mindful of my noise level, the dog barking, and the loudness of all the gymnastics I involve myself in regularly. OK, I don’t do “activities” like referenced in the movie “Stepbrothers”, but I have never gotten a complaint. I am even thoughtful enough to keep my headboard a good 5 inches from the wall everywhere I have lived.
Note: When I was a home owner in the cul-de-sac, I actually made homemade bread and gifted loaves to the neighbors for Christmas. Yep, Betty Freaking Crocker here.
Fast forward to the present. I have lived here at Pine Knoll for 2 years. In that time, the apartment above me was so quiet that I questioned if I had neighbors. I only heard the sounds of sweet love-making one time. I did wonder if they were going to come crashing through the ceiling and land on me at one point, but overall, no complaints.
Today, I have what seems to be a single female, around my age, with no flipping idea that I live under her, residing above me. It’s going on 2 months, and Saturday, I think she must have been holding every piece of furniture in her hands, lost her balance, and fell. My son asked, “What in the heck is she doing up there?!” 3 weeks ago, she stood on her patio and gave directions to a VERY geographically challenged individual. I know, because I could hear every direction she gave, since she was standing directly above my bedroom window on her patio. He arrived with beer around midnight. Yes, I looked out to see who couldn’t find the turn at Church’s Chicken. I am a human being after all.
The rapid fire sounds of some sexually deprived people began at 1:40 am. I couldn’t sleep, so I laid in my bed wishing for an ice pick to stab my ears with. Thankfully, satisfaction was reached by 2 am. (I have reenacted the noise for a couple of co-workers, and am very adept at imitating the intensity of that night at any given time.)
She seems to be a night owl, so showers at the most insane hours is common.
Bits of her trash fall through her patio floor and land on my patio bistro table. (beer bottle caps, and the wrappers to her packs of cigarettes)
As you can imagine, AGS is not a happy camper. As you can also imagine, AGS is eagerly awaiting the moment she and I meet in the parking lot. Casually of course, and very neighborly. In a very neighborly fashion, I will make introductions, and you can bet your ass that I will sweetly let her know that I can hear everything. EVERYTHING. I will suggest she pull her headboard from against the wall depending on how it goes.
If you know me personally, you know I am very capable of reading people and playing correctly to the audience. The “chance” meeting just hasn’t offered itself up as of yet. The intensity level also hasn’t reached the point where I am stalking her in order to force the meeting.
I will keep you posted.
If you are a neighbor, be a decent one. Be polite & pleasant. The world already has enough dicks in it.
Oh, and DON’T sit and blow your vehicle horn to get someone to come out to you. Don’t. Everyone hates that.
Here’s hoping it’s a “booty call” free evening –