Sunday, September 11, 2005

Why the Bitch upstairs needs to die

Do remember that scene in Billy Madison where the art teacher is smearing paint all over her face? Yeah, well, she lives upstairs from me. No, not the actress in that movie. A real life elementary school art teacher who has the social skills of a newt.

Don't get me wrong, I love art. Hell, I even loved art in elementary school. I still have some of my work lying around to prove it to you. My problem is with the 40 something, friendless, clueless, fashionless, boob who I am forced to share a building with. We live in a two family house with an upstairs and downstairs apartment. We have the downstairs apartment, which is probably the best apartment I have had in a long time. Our neighborhood rocks, we can walk to everything, I know about 5 or 6 people on the block, we have plenty of outside space, and most importantly, we pay practically nothing. The only problem with the place, besides the occasional camel cricket that finds its way into my shower, is the freak show living above us.

I could go on for days detailing all the insane crap she has done, but I will stick to the highlights. The first indication of her weirdness was when she called the water company and turned off all the water in the whole house for 3 days. Why, you might ask? Because she wanted to switch the water bill into our names. Fine, we just moved in, we can handle that. Just fucking talk to us you wack job. The power company physically came to our house and turned the water off. Did we have any warning? Nope, woke up one day, no water. How did we find out what happened? Did she come and tell us? Nope. We had to call the company and find out why we had no water. The best part was that we still couldn't turn it back on because it was still in her name. I am just thankful I have friends in the 'hood who let me use their showers. That was bad. She never even apologized.

Then there was the day that I was peacefully taking a nap on my couch. I was not feeling well at all, so I laid down in the comfort of my own home to rest. The freak show decides that she wants to talk to one of us, so she starts knocking on the door. Again, I don't feel well, so I don't answer. This is where things get good. Apparently when you knock on someone's door and they don't answer, you should ring the doorbell for about thirty seconds. Then, when that doesn't work you should knock on the door again. And when they still don't answer you should go back to ringing the bell. And so on, and so on, and so on.... I couldn't take it anymore. I flung open the door with a look that would have killed a small child. "Oh, I wasn't sure if anyone was home" she said. Really? 'cause you just rang the bell and knocked on the door about 300 times, if you didn't think anyone was here what in God's name where you doing? She went on to tell me that the fan in our bathroom was on and she could hear it in her apartment. Que? You can't manage to tell us that you are having the water turned off, but when we have the fan on we get a reenactment of Stomp on our front door? Of course I didn't say any of this to her, because I have the basic human social skills that she is lacking. I just went and turned the damn fan off and fell back asleep.

When spring came the issue of mowing the lawn came up and we agreed to share the responsibilities. She mowed the lawn first and Dave did it next. Then, for some reason, she didn't mow it again. The lawn just kept growing and growing. We were trying to figure out why she wasn't doing her share. Then she confronted Dave and asked him if "his girlfriend" planned on mowing the lawn. Hmmmm, lets see, two apartments, we take turns. This ain't no we do it twice you do it only once action. Plus, bitch, I am all about feminism and equal rights, but I have never mowed a lawn in my entire life, and I never plan on it. That is why I was blessed with brothers and a boyfriend. As Dave said, "If she can find a man, I don't mind if she has him mow the lawn when it is her turn."

Like I said, this is just the tip of the iceberg. She leaves weird notes, knocks on our patio door with her rake to get our attention, hides the trash can and lies about it, leaves checks for the water bill for arbitrary amounts 2 months before the bill is due, etc. She even had the nerve to bang on the floor during the Super Bowl. The Super Bowl! Did she not realize that most normal people were watching a sporting event that involved the greatest football team of all time? The Super Bowl. Just keep in mind that for the first 2 months we were here she was recarpeting her apartment. Yes, recarpeting her rented apartment. Loudly recarpeting her apartment. Maybe it needed fixing because she has lived here for 9 years. Who lives in the same rental for 9 years?

So, honey, the next time I see you walking around in your bright purple shorts that you wear with your hot pink shirt, only to be accented by the lovely barrettes you put in your mane, you better beware. I might stock pile some of those camel crickets and jam them down your throat. Just because you dress like you are eight, doesn't mean that you can act like it. You brought on my angst. I never wanted our relationship to be so hostile. But it is.

And you need to go.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...
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dreadlock goddess said...

i think you should stand up for yourself and let this bitch know, as tactfully as possible, that she needs to fuck off and show some damn respect. she sounds like a cow. good luck, my mom lived next to one of these who made life in her silver spring neighboorhood hell for years. that crazy bitch just sold her house so keep your chin up.

number4of5 said...

I have been taking the peaceful, yet firm aproach with her for a while. It is just a matter of days until I start to get, as my friends say, "all Boston on her ass."

Andren said...

Sounds like the neighbor from hell. I had an old bat that lived next door to me come by my place and tell me that she would have dreams about reaching her hand through the wall and strangling me and my friends when we used to hang out. WTF? We even invited her to our New Years Eve party.

numba 2 said...

Honestly. First it was the woman with the love of mice. Then the guy sitting in the history shop watching you.

What is it with you and neighbors? It is time for a chat. And you should do it before the next time that you get really pissed off at her.

There has been a lot of anger in the blog lately.

number4of5 said...

I forgot about the guy in the shop! I do remember you crawling around on my floor so he couldn't see you. Then you going down there to see what he could see. That was funny.

I don't know what is with me and neighbors. I think I just move a lot and end up getting a few weirdos in the mix. There have been good ones, but they are not noteworthy.

The anger stems from how much I hate you. All of you. I don't know, I just find the anger thing funny lately. Don't read too much into it.

Anoop Verma said...

Oh you choose to be angry eh....

number4of5 said...

No, I don't choose to be angry. Nor do I choose to leave comments that don't make any sense.

Ladyb! said...

You have my sincere sympathy. But just remeber patience, love and understanding are the true test of character...

She's loney, and not dealing very well with the new "girl" in the house; and a femme one with a boyfriend. The Poor thing is suffering, and althuogh not your fault -- but if you plan to continue living the fabulous lifestyle ya' might as well get used to the territory.

Be Blessed!