First place: The landlady was the even more petty than my own father. I’ll give examples but nothing can really show it unless you lived through it.
-I had to move my bedroom and sleep in a different room than I’d originally been sleeping in because her dog would whine in the room next to it. I worked second shift and liked to sleep a little later. But the dog would wake me at 7 am.
She told me that one other car aside from mine could park in the driveway when visiting, as long as it didn’t block her in. One day while my brother was visiting, I made sure he complied with the rule (and saw that he had) but the landlady called me numerous times while he was visiting to see when he was leaving.
The one and only Christmas that I was there, she barged past me at the doorway to hang some decoration out the front window. She’d knocked unexpectedly and it wasn’t a good time for me. She refused to take no for an answer. I’m being literal, she actually PUSHED me aside to get into the apartment.
When I finally could take no more of her torment, I told a friend of mine who said there was a place available where she lived. So I let my landlord know I wanted out early of the lease but wanted to see if I could get some of the security deposit back. I kept it civil. She wanted to check with her lawyer about what the laws were, which I said fine too, but then she added for me not to pack anything until she had spoken to him.
The second place: The place my friend told me about. It was fine at first. Quiet, even though run down as fuck. First the neighbors across the hall moved. They were replaced by a young guy who had a girlfriend. I could hear everything from my living room to theirs. Lucky enough they were actually pretty reasonable and we ended up getting along pretty well.
The guy upstairs had a girlfriend and I could set my watch to their sex. Thump thump thump, every night at 11 pm. I was no longer on second shift and had to be at work by 8:30 am. In addition I was going to school a couple nights a week.
Then much to my disappointment, the old man in the wheel chair who lived in the apartment directly in back of min, moved out. He was the best neighbor in the whole place. Never bothered anyone.
By now, the building had also been sold to a young guy who didn’t seem to care about his tenants at all. And in place of the nice old man, a drunk moved in. And I’m talking loud, inconsiderate, no one matters but him, drunk. As I mentioned I was in school at the time and he would blare his music into the wee hours. I knocked a couple times and asked him to turn it down. He’d just get louder. He used to bang on the walls and stomp his feet on the floor. Next door to him was a young mom with a baby.
The cops were called, I also called the landlord one night around 1 am to complain, but it never stopped. Why is that the assholes seem to come out on top in most of these situations?
Third place: The hell started immediately. The place was a friends’ place, a couple I’d been friends with for years. They needed someone to occupy their house while they cared for his mother who had dementia.
The next door neighbor there had a big dog that they left out all night every night. From the first night I became sleep deprived. It was a battle with animal control and then the cops. One cop threatened to cite me for calling to complain so much. I asked him how much would it be because I was unemployed at the time. I was sleep deprived from the dog barking every single night and I was not doing well. I got him into a conversation that lasted long enough for him to finally hear what I was talking about.
Some stuff changed as far as how they kept the dog outside, but they still kept it outside. The problem finally resolved itself and boy, that shit is a story in itself, so perhaps I’ll share that another time.
It was when my car got broken into that made me leave though.
For a short time I lived with B in his apartment but we moved out within months to the house we lived in up until last year. This was the best place so far, but it was not without its issues. One guy in particular who lived in back of us, got a dog and then started letting it out in his fenced in back yard when he got tired of walking her. He would also have her out there with him when he’d have parties. He had quite a few of them at that time. One day he was having a party, B and I took off for the entire day. I didn’t want to be there to listen to the dog all day, so B and I went for a hike and then to dinner and ended up closing the restaurant’s bar.
When we got home, all was quiet.
The next day, B’s mom (who lived next door) told B that the cops showed up at the partying neigbor’s place. Someone had called the cops. I was so grateful. I had not been the one to do it and he knew it, because he saw us leave. Score…for once. So that problem went away. He stopped leaving her in the yard alone and didn’t let her out with him when he had parties, which he stopped having after a while.
Then the woman moved in next door, after the house had stood empty for a while. The owner had wanted to sell it but wasn’t able to, so he finally decided to rent it. The woman who moved in, would pile her trash in the trash cans so high that the lid would no longer close. Our houses were less than 10 feet away from each other. We shared a walkway on the sides of our houses.
The first she’d moved in, she put her empty boxes out on the side of the house and it was super windy so they kept blowing over to our yard. And instead of doing something different to solve the problem, she just kept moving the empty boxes back, only to have them blow back over into our yard. It was lovely.
And now where we live, the complaint has been about the nasty landlady, the narcissistic landlady who deflects her issues back to us and doesn’t like to take responsibility even for leaving our basement light on. But now, I’d settle for that, with the dawn of a new problem with a new neighbor in the building next door.
I have dubbed him speaker boy. He is obsessed with getting the sound perfect from what I can tell. And in working to get them just right, he spends a bunch of time out there blaring his music louder than anyone would really want to hear, if it’s not their own choice of music.
One night he was out there for an hour and a half, from about 6 to 7:30 pm. Another night was about a half hour from about 10:30 pm to 11 pm.
Today he pulled in around 4:30. He would turn it up and turn it down. Turn it up and turn it down. This went on for an excruciating hour. I had already been playing some music, because I’d been cleaning. But his music overpowered mine and mine was fairly loud.
This has been going on now, sporadically, for almost a month. I never know when he’ll be out there. So the anticipation and the wait contributes to the torture as well.
The only other time I’ve heard any indication that this bothers anyone else was one Sunday when someone shouted out their window in the building next door for him to turn it down, after he’d given it a volume blast.
I can’t fucking win.