There is a finite number of important steps that you will take in life - graduation, marriage, having a baby - and of all these there is none more full of adventure than your first apartment. That first tentative step out of your parents' place or college dorm is equal parts terrifying and exciting, with nothing but the world before you.
A world filled with crumbling, caustic sinkholes that others have the cajoles to call an apartment. Shopping around can be a frustrating merry-go-round, where the horses are overpriced mud pits with a roach problem and the operator already passed out after his eighth round of Scotch. It's not pretty, is what I'm saying.
Even after surviving all of the searching, paying all of the deposits, moving truckloads of furniture and boxes of junk into the only place that was actually decent for your modest (read: broke) price range, there is one adventure that will continue as long as you plant your made in China flag on that lot that technically isn't yours.
Say hello to the neighbors.
Now, maybe your neighbors are different than mine; in fact, they probably are. I won't try to say otherwise and will instead paint you a picture of how life is in my apartment.
Let's meet the neighbors, shall we?
1. The Mysterious Douchebag
The Mysterious Douchebag is an entity of shady origins that inhabits the darkest reaches of humanity. Or one of the upstairs apartments. Then again, as you will find out later, they may be one and the same.
Sightings of the Mysterious Douchebag are rare, though sightings of his compensating 4x4 are impossible to avoid, as if he were waving it in our face to distract both us and himself from the fact that he has a tiny pe-
...personality. In any case, the subject mostly remains elusive, the only evidence of his continued existence being the annoying act of leaving his door open and his TV on loud, probably to drown out the moans of pleasure his girlfriend belts out because of the size of his truck.
2. The Angry Chair Lady
Relaxing at home one night, my girlfriend at work and the whole of the majestic land called 'Internet' at my fingertips, I was disturbed by the familiar two note ring of my doorbell. Expecting a visitor, or possibly those nice kids who sell candy bars, I opened my door with a naive optimism that I have not enjoyed since.
The wails that issued from the foul creature outside my door pierced through the barrier of hospitality I had formed in preparation for dealing with such neighbors. In my stupor, I could only make out a few words. "Did you take my chair?" the harpy shrieked, nothing but murder in her eyes. I managed only a shake of my head before her voice cut into me again.
"My chair is missing! I've never had a problem until YOU moved in!" Ignoring the fact that I had moved in some three months prior to this attack, I plugged my ears and muttered out a reply. In all honesty, I was unaware this she-beast had any outside chairs. My denial quelled the monster, and she allowed me time to escape before ringing the bell of her next victim.
This horror perches in the apartment across from the Mysterious Douchebag, on the floor known as the Fifth Layer of Hell.
3. The Newbies (formerly the Hippo)
When we first lived with the apartment we lived directly below the apartment of a, erm, glandularly challanged woman who moved with the grace of an intoxicated wildebeest. We really had little problem with her, except for the first two weeks where she moved her chair directly above our ceiling fan, which would threaten to fly off at any moment and decapitate everyone within blades' reach if it was ever turned on above its lowest setting. So yeah, looking past the attempted manslaughter, she was one of our more pleasant neighbors.
And then, the Hippo moved.
In her place was a young couple that we have already dubbed our arch Nemeses. Things were off to a great start when it took them two weeks of constant banging, trudging, hammering, and, going by the noise that was made, training a herd of elephants to dance to "Thriller" just to move into the apartment/circus tent/ Satan's taint.
Now, things are pretty calm during the week. We hear little noise from them, probably because their devil rituals require complete concentration. But every weekend they have kids over. Whose kids are they? I wish we knew. Maybe they're kids from a previous marriage. Or maybe they are the sacrifices they use to appease Lucifer. It's open for debate.
What I do know is that those little bundles of joy must REALLY enjoy the game "you have to run everywhere or you will die", along with such favorites as "let's hit the floor repeatedly with hammers", and "I hope you don't enjoy sleep, poor fuckers that live downstairs". What fun!
So now you know the upstairs neighbors and this post is already growing long. So, I shall continue the introductions at a later, undetermined point in the future so you may meet my much more docile neighbors downstairs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to bang on my ceiling with a broom like a cartoon character.
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