I've Got 99 Problems and My Downstairs Neighbors Make Up At Least 50 Of Them

The idea of living in an apartment is weird. You’re living in close proximity to a bunch of strangers. You’re trusting these people not to toss a cigarette butt and burn the whole place down, or let a bunch of garbage collect and attract rats. While I love our current apartment, I wouldn’t hate it if our neighbors got absorbed into some sort of black hole. I don’t wish death upon them, certainly not, I just would rather not have them living below us.

I think I’m cursed when it comes to apartment neighbors. See, at our old place we lived next to DeShawn. DeShawn LOVED to practice his drum kit at all hours of the night. This included during normal people’s sleeping hours. Though we’ve moved on from DeShawn, we now live on top of two twenty-something guys who really, REALLY love loud rock music. In fact, they can’t get enough of the bass that comes along with loud rock music. All day and all night they get that bass cranking until the walls of our apartment start shaking. This is problematic as I’m trying to do things such as work, think, or sleep.

To make matters even more fun, one of these guys gets up at about 5 am several days out of the week. His alarm is some song that features a lot of bongo drums. Apparently he doesn’t like getting up at this hour, because he lets the alarm go on for a long, long time before he shuts it off. So Chris and I also end up getting up at this hour on several mornings out of the week.

We’ve called our landlord a few times, but the boys below us feel no fear…so that’s why this note had to get written:

Okay, I know. I totally could have been crazier and more threatening BUT Chris advised me that if I was crazy right off the bat, they would probably take a passive aggressive, bass-bumping approach. So I went the slightly sarcastic yet nice route. Also, my dad pointed out that I have the handwriting of a serial killer, so I’m hoping that they will think Kevin Spacey from the movie “Seven” is living above them, thus causing them to start lowering their volume ASAP.

Ugh. Apartment living. You never know what you’re going to get. I mean I suppose it could be worse, and by worse I mean that I could have cockroaches or mice. Or squirrels, like we had in my house during my senior year of college but…the audible, pulsing bass of someone else’s music is enough to slowly drive a person insane.

On the other hand, it is so nice to be able to call your apartment complex’s maintenance man and simply say, “Hello. Here is what I broke today. Please help.”

Our maintenance guy is the best, and I definitely appreciate that perk. Not enough to live in an apartment above some bass-loving boys for the rest of my life, but…I still enjoy it. Anyone want to trade apartment-living horror stories with me?

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  1. Oh I hear ya! The one apartment I’ve lived in had two really creepy people living upstairs who my roommate and I were convinced were drug addicts/prostitutes. They had sex really loud/played drums/etc. and never seemed to sleep. Then we had some Indian neighbors who shared a carport with us and left notes every day that we parked too close to them even though we were in the lines. Ugh! Hope they turn their music down for you!

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