I live in a section 8 apartment bldg. It's not by choice, but forced on me by the behavior of several mo'fo asshats that screwed me over the last five years. I learned from those experiences, and now, trust is not a given, but must be earned over years. I'm taking BIG steps to move from here to a new town east of here, and closer to my goal (seeking a Falcon Heavy to get across the Atlantic next summer). But for now, I'm stuck in this housing pit filled with ... "senior" (elder couch potatoes) retirees with little life left, physically and PSYCHOLOGICALLY/EMOTIONALLY disabled people, plus a large handful of dumbass losers. The following is an edited version of what I sent to the apt manager this morning after the event. Posting this here is catharsis for me, along with listening to some hard electronic music in headphones to cover the sounds -- noises -- of the idiots on three sides of me. But the lyrics playing in my mind are these: "I've got to get out of this place if it's the last thing I ever do." ______ This event stretched over about 1.5 hours, starting around 10 am, when I started hearing more bumping that usual next door, including an extra loud kitchen cabinet slam (usually my biggest pet peeve with him -- those damn cabinet doors that he usually just lets bump loudly rather than closing quietly with neighbors in mind). Then I heard what was undoubtedly (in retrospect) him hitting furniture (I hear that kind of stuff on occasion, usually around once a month). But the next half hour stunned me. I can only call it a "psychotic episode". Never heard anything like it from him -- even though I've seen his anger at others and at me repeatedly (and he admits he has no control over it). This was like something I'd see from a psycho in Pulp Fiction. (He should audition for such a position -- he's a shoe-in sure to get the part.) First I heard shouting. I'm not talking raised voice, I mean SHOUTING. I heard it over my voice on my video I was editing, so paused it and turned down my white noise machine (that I use to cover up his noise), and listened. He said the word "f'k" a LOT, seemingly about every tenth word, and repeatedly -- at least a dozen times -- called who ever he was arguing with on the phone a "f'g c't". Why that person didn't hang up after the first one, or even when he started shouting, I can't understand. This continued with periods of shouting interspersed with quieter times during which I could hear his voice, but not understand words -- over about 20 minutes. But the worst of it was the multiple times he pounded on furniture (? door? counter?) with his fist to punctuate his words "f'k" and "f'g c't". S--- like that triggers my PTSD. I don't fear him -- if he gets close to me, I'll break bones with sticks -- legs or ribs first, then the other -- but that kind of anger spilling into my living space -- where I'm trying to live a peaceful life and recover from seven hellish years that caused my PTSD -- is NOT OK. And now that I've heard that level of uncontrolled, over the top anger, it takes my concern about him as my immediate neighbor up a full notch. If [other neighbor names] were home, they're bound to have heard it. (I called X and left a message to inquire.) So there's no need to tell him where you heard this from -- just a neighbor -- but I know you don't reveal sources. Put together with the other things he's done to affect me in the past (disrespect, mocking, pounding on my wall), I want him evicted, and am starting to exert some force to make it happen. I didn't sign up for this s't. I've been a model tenant here, and deserve better. So, now, it's either him or me. I'm taking baby steps to be out in spring sometime -- professionally, I need to be near [nearby town] for summer before departing for Scotland -- but I'd rather be able to take my time. Honestly, I suspect that if you or [the regional manager] had heard what I did, he'd already have his 30 day notice. If I was manager, you can bet your bottom buck he would. ____ PPME (please pardon my electronica)
I would also set up a microphone and record the noise coming thru the walls. Since it is in your own apt, it is not illegal. EDIT: im sure that with your caliber of microphones.....you could get every single detail crystal clear
Yeah... they are just terrifying. I fed one for a few years as a summer job while in college. This incident just a couple years ago down on Pine Island FL brings back bad memories.
Sorry about your living situation, Stone... I know how you feel. Our first apartment was kinda like that. The guy who lived next to us had Schizoaffective disorder. Once a month or so he would flip out and tear his place apart....and there was a young couple who lived above us. They liked to knock boots very loudly right while we were sitting down for dinner and their room was directly above the dining area....needless to say we never had anyone over for dinner lol
^ lost a Tree Worker Brother here about a decade + ago when he got snagged by a branch end and dragged in. It was pretty horrific. WorkSafe BC clamped down on safety big time after that still doesn't stop the cheap outfits from using no skill, non trained day laborers to feed the machine.... Best lesson i ever learned was when a former faller turned urban tree climber, dropped a limb on my head when I was dragging brush to the chipper. He had noticed I was in the drop zone under him as he limbed the tree. Yelled at me a bunch but the ear pro i was wearing i couldn't hear a thing. So his dropped a small branch and hit me with it. I looked up and he pointed me OUT of the area. After he was done wind-firming the tree he rapped down and ran over to me, berating me for what i had done, then calmly explained the physics of falling tree limbs and the danger zone. Best lesson ever. Sad that the WorkSafe training for Tree Grounds-men did not even mention that. anyways, back to the psycho neighbor....any updates?
Thanks for asking. I'm listening to/watching this right now in audio studio headphones (S0ny 7506) just b4 I hit th' hammock for the night. Almost as good as the Eagles trouncing the Pats. What neighbor?
Why is the grass greener on the other side of the fence? Wherever you go there you are. So why is the grass greener?
To get to the other side of the road? Oh, wait ... that's the wrong question. That's why the chicken crossed the road.
