Apartment neighbor issues

Used?

 

One of my first jobs was in a little town where I rented an incredibly big apartment on the second floor of a house that the landlord had gutted and divided into three units. One on the first floor and two on the second. My neighbors on the second floor were a young couple in their early 20s like I was, and they had a baby. What a circus.

They were constantly arguing about shit ... they both worked pretty dead-end jobs. I don't think either of them had a college education, and they were always fussing with the baby. The girl's mother watched the baby during the day while they were working, so it was always who's taking the baby, who's picking up the baby. I never heard anything that sounded violent ... I think they just conducted their business with each other at a high decibel level and that was the way they did things. Paper-thin walls let me hear most of it.

I was working in sports at a paper that was a PM, and I had to be in there at the crack of dawn to put the page together. One night, after midnight, the two of them are bitching at each other about something, and I'm in bed trying to get to sleep because I have to be at work at 7 a.m.

At one point the girl (ironically) yells: "You better quiet the hell down before someone calls the cops on you."

Guy says: "Good, I hope someone does call the cops. The guy next door can put it in the newspaper. 9-1-1, mother-fucker!

Me: Busted out laughing ... I don't know if they heard me or not. But I'll remember that for the rest of my life.

 

When I first moved to Indianapolis, I lived in an apartment building with one master door to the outside and then six apartments were accessible from inside that door.

My neighbor upstairs had a Chihuahua that she left out on the balcony that was even with or just above door level. It did it's business on the balcony and she didn't clean up, so everytime anyone walked in the door, they got a whiff of dog crap.

The landlord couldn't/wouldn't address it, but she did let me out of my lease six months early.

 

In my second apartment (the upstairs one), I was there a looong time.

Had many different neighbors, but my favorites were the strung-out woman who was outside on her cell phone having a tearful and loud conversation the day after she moved in. She fought with her boyfriend all the time, and I felt bad for the guy because he was clearly trying to get her to clean up her act.

Then there was the young, broke couple next door who had no furniture and never ran their A/C. So with the windows always open I often heard her screaming during sex. She wasn't horrible looking, so that was OK, since I only heard them when I was out walking the dog. Then they disappeared for a while and I get a firm knock on my door one day at 6 a.m. It's the cops, looking for the guy who lives next door. Hadn't seen him in a couple of months. I later found him on the arrest reports with multiple robbery charges.

 

i'm a lawyer and i know about nuisance laws. you're doing nothing wrong. not even a little wrong. if you happen to live in south florida, where i do, PM me about the legal issues. i'm not big on using my law license to kick other people's asses but this douchebag cock-fucker needs to be put in his place.

 

Worst neighbor issue I had when I lived in an apartment complex was before my wife and I bought our house. (I think I've told this story before, but I don't recall right now when). We lived in this nice complex of townhouses. We were in one row, and there was a row opposite of ours, with a little grass area in between. Maybe 50-75 feet tops.

There wasn't any designated parking, except for the handicap spots. Tenants were free to park wherever they wanted.

But don't tell that to the fucktard and his girlfriend who insisted that the two spots closest to the pathway was their's. We parked our cars there, and before you know it, they yelling at us to remove them. We refused.

So later, the apartment manager comes to us, laughing her ass off. She described how the guy and his girlfriend were complaining about how we were in their spots. She told them we were obeying the rules. Guy gets pissed off and goes to the laundry room, where he was seen opening up and then slamming shut the washers and dryers (I shit you not).

So then, our other neighbors get wind of this. And they get pissed off. So they start parking in the same spots. Fucktard and girlfriend start banging on their doors. Neighbors refuse to move their cars.

One of our neighbors was this very nice old lady. One day, she parks there. Sure enough, Fucktard's girlfriend comes over and starts yelling at her. Old lady starts getting a little upset. I hear this from inside my apartment, and go outside. I walk up to the old lady and tell her she can take my spot. She gets in her car, I get in mine, she backs out, I let her in my old space ... and then I park right in the space the idiots claim is their's. Fucktard's girlfriend sees this and goes nuts. I tell her where to go.

Fucktard comes home from jerking off under his rock. Girlfriend tells him what happens. Fucktard bangs on my door. Which led to this conversation:

Fucktard: "Move your car!"

Me: "Um, why?"

Fucktard: "Because it's my spot. You know my girlfriend and I like to park there."

Me: "Um, no it's not. Anyone can park anywhere they want. It says so in the newsletter (which the manager put out)."

Fucktard: "I don't care. It's my spot. Move it, or else!"

Me: "Or else what? You'll punch me out or something? I'd heard how you beat up those washing machines."

Fucktard: "Um... "

Me: "Fuck off, and if you touch me, I'll be owning that pickup truck of your's."

Fucktard curses. Walks away.

They never brought it up again, although a large amount of our courtyard made sure to always park there first.

And the other crazy thing is, a couple of years after my wife and I moved away, my wife had to bring a friend of her's to the airport. She ended up bumping into the girlfriend, who actually came over, said hello, and asked how we were doing.

 

Called the cops on my upstairs neighbors today. Actually...called the complex owner and complained first. They asked if it was 2 women fighting (since two women are on the lease)...it was not...it sounded like Rua vs. Henderson with lots of "fuck yous" in the middle (mind you...this was 1 p.m. in the afternoon, not after bar close). My dog jumped twice because it sounded like full body contact on the floor (our ceiling).
I told them it was 2 guys and they told me to call the cops. I left after the cops showed up... I didn't want to be a part of that white trash shitshow.
Tomorrow should be interesting when I see them out in the parking lot...

 

When we lived in Dickinson, our neighbor had some serious issues. He was borderline mentally challenged who also was an alcoholic. He tried to come in one night when I was at work. Another time, he wanted to use our bathroom.

The back doors of our apartments went out to a laundry room that always reeked of smoke coming from his apartment. The managers had to put a seal under his door and spray the area with Lysol on a monthly basis. I'm sure the only reason he was allowed to stay was that someone must have been paying the rent on time, because he didn't work.

Added to the mess was some roughneck who kept his truck running all night. I'm sure he was afraid he truck wouldn't start when it got too cold, but when it's 10 degrees out, you can shut off your damn truck.

Good times in Dickinson.

 

Hope your neighbors don't do this:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/law-and-order/9116567/Couple-sue-over-neighbours-noisy-wooden-floor.html

 

This happened in college:
It was the middle of the summer and my roommate had gone home for a few weeks. It's probably 3 a.m. one night when the guys upstairs (two-story building, with motel-style walkway) decide to start blasting music and such. Twenty minutes later the cops arrive. Fifteen minutes after that they're banging on my door. They got a noise ordinance violation and are pissed and knocking on every door trying to find out who it was. I convince them I was not the offender and go back to bed.
The next morning (actually, it was probably closer to afternoon) I hear the third roommate show up upstairs. Suddenly he's screaming and yelling about the fine they now have to pay and all the shit they apparently destroyed the night before. Before too long there's clearly wrestling, and then something being dragged. Then, a loud noise outside my window. I look - yep, someone threw the recliner over the railing.
The next day I saw the non-partier. He just said, "Sorry man, things kinda got out of hand." Yeah, they did.

 

Oh man, the apartment stories I could tell. From the neighbors who shoveled all their snow in front of MY door so I couldn't get out, to those who vandalized my vehicle just because I insisted on calling the cops each time their reefer smoke drifted in through my balcony window. They weren't the type who had to worry about failing a drug test at work -- tough to do when you're unemployed.

The best worst though was the male "couple" next door who must have been going for a Guinness record for most frequent loud sex in a near-public setting. I had to quit using one of the rooms in my apartment to avoid the screams. Talk about being tough to look someone in the eye in the hallway...

 

We lived in half a house during college. One morning I woke up and my best friend and her boyfriend were listening to a knock-down downstairs. All I remember from the conversation was: "You gave me herpes!" and "Tonya, put down the knife!"

Two girls ran upstairs and asked us to call the cops, and I just remember jumping up and acting like we hadn't been listening to the whole thing by the heating vent.

The next couple that moved in were total freaks. When we moved out, we had to run downstairs and ask to use hot water for the final cleaning. There was stuff piled up three feat high in the hallway and it smelled. I wasn't shocked, since I overheard the mother screaming at her daughter once for "pooping on her dollhouse".

The kids father never came around, so we decided to sunbathe in the backyard (we untied our bikini tops). Don't you know that scumbag comes home that day? We look up and he's watching us, smoking a cigarette. Barf.