2005-09-11 20:50 - General

So, to start out: I have made zero progress with my upstairs neighbors. I've heard (since I asked!) that my landlord is back in the country. More on that towards the end though.

So last night, I see a bit, but mostly hear my super working on the apartment just in front of mine. The window is perhaps 5 feet from my living room, 25 from my bedroom. Well after 11PM, he is throwing things out the second story window, into the lower-than-street-level courtyard in the center of the building. Creating a serious racket.

Today, I spent the afternoon out looking at other apartments. I got back, got settled, and at 5:30 PM he's at work yet again. Over the course of the half hour leading up to that point, a constant metallic clanging noise of some sort of hammering has just gotten on my nerves. At this point I figured out / confirmed exactly where he was, and rang the bell. And knocked. And rang the bell again, longer. And knocked harder. And never got an answer. So, since the door was cracked open anyways, I pushed it open and started calling "Hey!" and once I finally got a response, I expressed my dissatisfaction with the level of noise he was creating, with the windows open, 5 feet from the window in my apartment.

He had nothing of that. Within a few sentences, he decides to say "You're not my boss," and shortly he's grabbing my arm and literally pushing me out of the apartment. The door slams and I hear the lock. Grr..

Welp, fine. If I have to talk to his boss, let's talk to his boss! I already have a standing issue about the neighbors. I go downstairs, talk to his wife, and ask "So, is my landlord in the country yet?" (Aside: I complained well over a month ago about my upstairs neighbors. I asked for my landlord's phone and was told he's on vacation. So I asked for his address and sent a certified letter. When it came back just shy of a month later, I was miffed. I asked what's up, and instead of the super I got the wife this time, and she explained that he had been in Greece for four months, and "might" be back in September. Aaargh.) He is, apparently. The number I was given last time was disconnected when I tried calling, so I ask for his number again.

She fumbles with a cell phone for a while, she hands the phone to her daughter, and eventually tells me, "My husband will give you the number," and sends her daughter upstairs with the phone. No progress with the phone number, but after then, no more noise from next door. You've got to savor the moments.


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