On the first floor, there's a young lady in one unit and Alex in the other, a young fella who once helped push my car out of the snow. I think he paints and collects Warhammer. I had been worried about him the past little while, because his car doesn't seem to leave his spot much. I've been there before.
The couple that moved have left one empty unit. That makes up the building. It's a nice building, everyone is polite. In the morning, the girl below me doesn't get in the shower until she hears me get out.
If I look at the land surrounding our building, we've got four cars nicely lined along the back, and one that parks closer to the door. Sometimes the grass gets a little long, but it's nothing that bothers me.
I told you that, so I could tell you this. It's a small building, I have windows on both sides (makes for a nice cross breeze), which lets me see the building on either side of me, if I want. On the south side, there's a nice building filled with young couples, and one old hippie** who rides his bike everywhere.
Then, there's the building to the north.
I wanted to take a picture of the yard, but I'm worried someone in the building would notice, and then beat the tar out of me or shoot me with a bb gun. There's no joke here, this is a genuine concern. Instead, I'll provide you with a small inventory of what I see through the weeds lining the fence, which are about waist-high:
- 3 electric scooters, which are constantly being worked on
- 1 jolly jumper
- 1 dollhouse
- 1 wheelbarrow, filled with running shoes and water
- 2 rusted out, retired barbecues
- somewhere between 5-8 bicycles, in pieces
- 5-8 lawnchairs, pulled in or out of the building as needed, but often left outside
- 4-5 large pieces of moulded plastic that were once items like kiddie pools or sandboxes
- 1 fire pit, which is the only item not surrounded by crap
- and other bullshit that congregates around classy people
When it comes to the building itself, most of the windows don't have screens on them, and those that do are busted up. When the windows are open, the curtains are often spilling out and sticking to the bricks. All air conditioners are tossed into the windows haphazardly.
Now, here's where I get uncomfortable. All of this I'm writing here may sound like I'm making fun of people with less money than me. The reality is, although it's very quiet out there right now, the number of domestic disputes and screaming I've overheard*** would almost be enough to want to move. They also have this tendency to lean out the windows and yell conversations to people in the yard. They've been loud enough to wake me from a dead sleep at 1 am. The cops visit there sometimes, but not often enough.
So, basically, I hate my neighbours, is the gist of this post. Fuck them.
*Milhouse's actual name is Milo. In the original post, I had changed his name to protect his identity. I don't know why I felt the need to do that, he's a dog for chrissakes. No offense to dogs. Milo, if you're reading this, WHO'S A GOOD BOY? WHO'S A GOOD BOY?
**The old hippie played Kraftwerk's Autobahn really loudly one afternoon, which made me disproportionately excited.
***Some of their greatest hits include "HOW COULD YOU? I FUCKING LOVED YOU!" in a shrill female voice, "YOU TELL HIM, IF HE COMES AROUND HERE AGAIN, I'LL KICK HIS FUCKING ASS!" and my personal favourite, "OF COURSE I'M GOING TO JAIL!!!! YOU THINK I DON'T REALIZE I'M GOING TO FUCKING JAIL TOMORROW???" spoken by a gentleman we probably won't be seeing for 6 months, less a day.