For the past year or so I’ve been living in a state of extreme tension with another person. I feel like we almost irrationally hate each other, even though we’ve never even spoken. Actually, scratch that, my hate isn’t irrational at all, as my hate is a pure, beautiful gift from the heavens. If this guy hates me, it’s completely irrational, irresponsible and just plain wrong.

I’m talking, of course, of my upstairs neighbor, the angry stomper. I’ve had to deal with this emotional 12 year old of a man for the past year and lately I’ve been about to snap and murder his entire childhood. I don’t know how one would go about murdering a childhood that’s now only contained in the mind, but I’ll find a way and I’ll fuck it up good.

Why do I call him the angry stomper? Well, the guy walks around like he’s an 800 pound robot sent from the future to destroy my happiness. With every step he takes he rattles my entire apartment. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you should here this heavy footed douche fuck maneuver the stairs that are right outside my apartment. The first time he walked down them I ran out my front door because I thought someone dropped  a bookcase filled with encyclopedias. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to help, I was just going to laugh and take a picture to put up on my blog.

Alright, so now that we have the “stomper” part out of the way let me talk a bit about the “angry” part. This guy freaks the fuck out daily. The first time I witnessed this was a sunny Sunday afternoon. I was just hanging out, minding my own business while watching golf, because I’m an 80 year old man apparently, when I heard some faint screaming. I turned the TV down to get rid of the loud golf clap that was going on and I found the source. This guy was screaming at his wife.

The whole thing was beyond awkward for me. I’d hear some shuffling of heavy feet and I was wondering if he was pushing her around, or something. If he was what do I do? Go up and confront him? Stay out of their fucking business? Call the law? Well I did, what I always do in this situation, which was sit on my couch and stare at the wall while being completely still with a terrified look on my face, trying to wish myself into a better situation. I felt like it was the best option at the time, and I stand by it. By the end of it he slammed the door and walked around the block three times. You sure showed her, tough guy.

For nearly a year I’ve had to deal with these awkward and loud situations because this guy doesn’t know how to handle situations like a fucking adult. Then this weekend I just happened to peer out the window and what do I see, but a moving truck! Could it really be? Could the angry stomper, his annoying constantly crying kid, and newly pregnant wife (yeah, they need another kid…) be leaving for good? Your damn right they are!

This made my whole weekend, and probably my next year as well. I just had to get through one day of ultra loud moving because, why wouldn’t they rape my ears one last time, and I was home free! Peace and quiet at last! Now hopefully I can fade getting another loud, stomping man-boy in the apartment above me. With any luck it will be an extremely old and lonely lady who pays rent for a year in advance then dies about a week in and nobody knows for the entire length of her lease. As long as I don’t get death smell creeping down into my place I should be fucking golden!

Tags: loud upstairs neighbor