I've been in the apartment scene since I was 19 years old, so having bizarre neighbors and terrible landlords is nothing new to me. Back in college, I lived across the parking lot from a drug dealer, who seemed to think everyone else was oblivious to the fact he had "friends" come to his place for fifteen minutes at a time. Now, apparently, the landlord had no idea what was going on (or else had Academy Award training) because, when the guy was stabbed and sent to the hospital after a drug deal went bad, she was all, "OMG, HE SEEMED LIKE SUCH A NICE GUY!"
|"I mean, he had never left his apartment for a job or for a class or anything and yet always managed to have rent money. I just thought he ran an internet store full of Beanie Babies or something!" - actual quote|
Actually, I would take all of those people, plus other ones that I can't remember off of the top of my head, in exchange for the rest of the people I'm forced to live close to. Well, most of them, anyway.
I've already posted about the bitch who let her fucking rat terrier bite my dog, and she and I have regular run-ins on the tri-daily walks I take Zola on. She actually snarls at me, but mostly, she keeps herself and her little shitface of a dog away from me. But she's not the only one who has reactions about Zola. There's an Indian man who hates my dog. Not just dislikes, but actively despises her. I don't really understand it, either, since she's never once gotten very close to him. She just kind of looks at him oddly whenever we pass, and he scowls at me and then her and says, "You keep that bastard away from me." I've asked a couple other dog owners in our complex about him, and they roll their eyes.
"He's that way about every dog," another neighbor told me. He owns quite possibly the cutest dog on the planet, a little shih tzu that essentially looks like this all the time:
|And he never barks and is scared of moving leaves. Seriously. From A Place to Love Dogs.|
And then there's Neighbor A, who I have purposefully avoided talking about because he creeps me out that much. He loves Zola, almost to an obsession. He talks about her like she's his girlfriend. For example, this conversation:
Neighbor A: Ahhhh, hello! How's everybody doing today? How are you, Zola?
Me: We're fine. She really has to go to the bathroom, A. I just got home and she hasn't peed in about six hours.
Neighbor A: Oh, well, okay! I'll come with you! Zola, I just want to make sure that you get everything you need! You're a beautiful girl that deserves the best! Let's find you the best pee spot in the world!
Neighbor A: (as Zola is peeing) Zola, when's your birthday? I want to get you something, like a diamond-encrusted collar. Does that suit your refined tastes?
Me: Seriously, her collar is fine.
Neighbor A: She might not think so.
Me: A, she's a dog.
Zola: Peepeepeepee pooppooppooppoop pet?
Neighbor A: Do you need me to watch her sometime? I could take her out on the town.
Me: No, thanks. We have to go inside now.
Neighbor A: Alright, Zola. Give me a kiss!!
|Get away from me and my dog, you creeper.|
Now, Neighbor A is also an aspiring music artist and has been trying to get Three and me to listen to his artistic endeavors. Since I avoid him at all costs, Three has been the one to actually agree to go over to his apartment. He was over there for about forty-five minutes, and when he came back, he closed the door and just started laughing hysterically. He described it as "black metal folk music sung in the style of Keebler elves." I feel a bit bad about mocking him on what he has called his life's work, but really?
|How he got the lead guitarist of the band who played for Robert Plant and Alison Krauss to play on this album, I'll never know. (And Three verified that his claims were true.)|
And then there's our newest addition to the building, who we'll call Spikey Hair Lady. She moved in a few weeks ago and seemed okay. She was very friendly and super appreciative when we offered to help her move some of her furniture; she only had one other person helping her and Three is kind of built for this sort of thing. She was a little obnoxious and loud, but meh, I would be annoyed too if I bought a couch that didn't fit through the front door of my new apartment. But then what seemed to be straight out of some bizarre indie movie happened.
[INT. APARTMENT - EVENING]
Juju has been napping and hears a knock on the door. At first, she ignores it, thinking the person will eventually go away. But he/she keeps fucking knocking. Seriously. Like every two seconds. And the person keeps getting louder and more insistent. So Juju gets up and fumbles to the door, opening it to see Spikey Hair Lady.
SHL: Oh. Were you sleeping?
Juju: I was. Can I help you?
SHL: I need to come into your apartment.
SHL tries to push past Juju, who just glares at her.
Juju: I'm sorry, what?
SHL: I need to see how you have your couch set up.
Juju: We don't have a couch.
SHL: [pause] Why?
Juju: We just don't.
SHL: Where do you sit?
Juju: We have chairs.
SHL: Can I come in?
Juju closes the door and goes back to sleep.Seriously. That is a true story. Both the actual thing and that we don't have a couch. Each time I manage to run into this lady, it's one more story of her intrusiveness. When we got the Lincoln, she tried to get into it. When my delivery Chinese came, she tried to invite herself to eat my one bowl of wonton soup. And she drives like an asshole, speeding through the parking lot like she's training for NASCAR. And she smokes like a damned chimney. Before she moved in, our hallway smelled like a normal hallway, albeit a little bit moldy****. Now, there's this lingering cigarette stench that makes me gag. She's not the only smoker in our building, but none of them smoke inside. They're courteous and go outside. She apparently thinks she should be able to make everyone miserable. Three and I have complained to the office, and we're not the only ones. I'm hoping they resolve this as quickly as they did with Frat Girl.
Even though there aren't a lot of really annoying people here, the sheer douche-ness of them kind of overshadow any other crap neighbors I've had. Now, Three has other stories (like the guys who broke into his apartment and stole all his computer and music equipment and ate his sugar-free chocolate pudding) but I don't know specific details on a lot of them. Hell, I may have him do a guest post one of these days. And anyway, we're definitely going to be moving elsewhere in March - closer to Three's work (and cheaper). I'm sure we'll have another group of annoying neighbors, but it'll take a lot to best these people.
God, I hope I didn't just jinx myself.
* This is not abnormal for him, anyway. He called me his ex-girlfriend's name for a while when we first got together, which amused me more than anything else. I mean, the guy was with her for four years, and I sometimes call him Zola, so we're even. He's just not very good remembering proper names of anything. For example, he went to see this Christian band and was talking about the performance with a friend, calling them Guitars of Light. His friend kept looking at him strangely and finally said, "You mean, Jars of Clay?"
** Okay, so I get that people have different ideas about what music is awesome and what isn't. I'm sure my mix of genres includes some music that is truly horrific to someone else. But dubstep. Really? I mean, really? I think Key and Peele describe it best: Dubstep is like "listening to music and then all of a sudden an alien tried to communicate with me." I have physical reactions to it, none of them good. Plus, look at this guy:
|Even just looking at this makes me want to punch him.|
**** Our building is a unique one. The A and B buildings are connected by a common area that is basically an indoor garden, so when they water the plants, the moisture just kind of sticks around and ugh.