Love Thy Neighbor…

Now I know that living in an apartment building means there will be noise at times. Usually, I don’t mind so much.  I think I’ve actually grown quite accustomed to bumps, thumps, and muffled sounds not coming from my own apartment. For the most part I am happy to no longer live on the top floor, not as hot in the summer and not as cold in the winter. There are times however, when I start to have murderous thoughts toward my upstairs neighbors. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how anyone can be as loud as they manage to be sometimes. It sounds like they let an elephant run laps in their apartment a couple of times a week. It also sounds like they have all of their furniture on wheels and decided to roll it from one end of the apartment to the other whenever they grow bored of watching the elephant run around.

There was the painfully loud Halloween party that allowed me to hear the vibrations every Lady GaGa song ever released coming through my ceiling as I attempted to sleep. The pain of my alarm going off at 6:30AM the next morning was not nearly as painful as coming home to hear that one of the tenants is not only loud, but tone deaf. I had clearly missed the Karaoke section of the party while I was out the previous night. Fortunately, I was now getting an encore, a loud, off-key encore. I’m quite certain the entire building was being graced with this very unique rendering of Lady GaGa songs. (They clearly have a thing for Lady GaGa.) How my upstairs neighbor does not yet have a recording deal I do not know.

Then there is my absolute favorite noise that I am privileged enough to hear through my ceiling, video games. (For all of you who thought I was going to say something else get your minds out of the gutter.) Now I know most men like video games. I also know that most men can spend hours and hours playing video games. I know some who have stayed up all night playing video games…my upstairs neighbor falls into this category. There is nothing more awesome than trying to fall asleep to the same noise or the same bar of music playing over and over and over and over and over and over and OVER again. Especially, when it is 3:00AM and you have to get up before noon the next day. I have attempted the bang a broomstick on the ceiling bit, but let’s face it, anyone who has ever witnessed a man in a video game trance knows that there is no hope of anything other than the sights and sounds of the video game registering in that mushy brain.

I was reminded of how much I love my upstairs neighbors this afternoon when out of the blue a pounding, so loud the walls actually shook, descended upon my apartment. It sounded like hammering. That’s normal, people hammer stuff all the time. Only this went on for what felt like an eternity. I swear, a whole bookshelf could have been built, from scratch, with the amount of hammering that went on. That is, if it was indeed hammering. The holidays are coming up so I can only hope the receive a rug to muffle the sounds, therapy so that whatever neuroses cause them to move their furniture around regularly can be appropriately dealt with, and a spot at the zoo for their pet elephant so that he no longer has to run laps in a tiny apartment in NYC.

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About djunapassman

I teach yoga, write, and edit. I live in a Brooklyn neighborhood that is changing faster than I can, or care to, keep up with. Manhattan still beckons me to her island a few subways stops away, reminding me of when I lived amongst her daily hustle and bustle.
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