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It's An Annoying Day In My Neighborhood
2004-05-05, 11:04 p.m.

I've dreamed of being a homeowner for a long time - you have the freedom to paint walls, pound a nail into whatever you want, tear out beige carpets and put in hardwood floors, and install quality countertops and built-in bookshelves. As a homeowner, you have many options available that can make undesirable situations bearable because it's YOUR property and you can make it a pretty place to live in, even if you live next door to the Quiet Hours Nazi on one side and the Guy Who Works Nights And Also Is In A Metal Band on the other. I live in a beige box apartment, and my neighbors drive me crazy.

My apartment is a two-level townhouse and I share walls with two sets of neighbors. On the lower level, my living room shares a wall with The Beanie Man and upstairs, he shares my laundry room/bathroom/closet walls. This means that he can tell when I'm in the shower, when I'm doing laundry in the middle of the night, and I can tell when he's playing video games at 2 a.m. and when he has an overnight guest. He's a single guy, in his mid-forties, and he works weird hours. I met him when he moved in and he was wearing a beanie, complete with a stupid propeller on top, and whistling camp songs while he was moving into his apartment. I've often wondered if The Beanie Man is gay or divorced or what his situation is, but flat-out asking him would be rude, and my nosiness is not overriding my upbringing. Yet.

The Beanie Man doesn't really bug me that much - sure, he's loud once in a while, and I think he's kind of a dickface for having a drumset in an apartment that has really poorly insulated walls, but I've only heard him playing it once and it lasted about fifteen minutes. The real problem is with the Ambiguously Gay Beatniks next door.

The Ambiguously Gay Beatniks may or may not be married and may or may not be gay. I'm not really sure what's going on. The woman looks about 30, is about six feet tall, and wears really dumpy clothes that probably came from Christopher and Banks or some other Dumpy Women's Store, so I think she might be a teacher or librarian because she leaves for work around the same time as me (which is...after eight most days) and she is always home by late afternoon. She wears pants that are too short and they have tapered legs and she just drives me nuts when I look at her, which I know is stupid and judgmental but sometimes people are just that irritating.

Mr. Ambiguously Gay Beatnik is about 5'4". When they stand next to each other, she looks like a giant. He probably weighs 120 pounds and wears nerdy glasses and has a lot of Saucony suede sneakers and buys his clothes at thrift stores. His appearance doesn't annoy me nearly as much as Ms. Ambiguously Gay Beatnik, but he doesn't talk. Ever. He once parked his scrawny ass on the steps in front of our building, yapping on his cell phone, and when I repeatedly stepped over and around him to carry groceries inside, he did not even look at me, much less move out of the damn way. I can't stand this guy.

Reasons Why I Hate The Ambiguously Gay Beatniks

  • We live in a building at the end of a circle drive, so there is only parking along one side of the drive. There are about seventy people who live in the buildings down on this end of the drive, and about thirty-five parking spaces. The Ambiguously Gay Beatniks own three cars and insist on parking all of them in premium spaces in front of our building, causing the little old lady in the next building to have to park a block away on her bridge night.

  • They play creepy New Age music all night long, really loud, with the windows open.

  • They have a yappy little damn dog that MUST GO OUT at 5 a.m. every morning. So at 4:55 a.m. I hear the dog tearing up the stairs and yapyapyapbarkbarkbarkbarkbark squeeeeeehyarrfffff squeaaaaaksqueeeeeeehyarfffff whoooooaaaaarrrrrkkkkk until one of the Ambiguously Gay Beatniks gets out of bed and lets the yappy damn dog out.

  • They do not clean up after their dog. Ever. I have stepped in an awful lot of yappy damn dog shit.

  • Their crappy Subaru has an ALARM on it because apparently people are really into stealing 1999 Subaru sedans, and anytime that anyone even looks at their crappy car the wrong way, the alarm goes off. And it¡¦s not just a horn blaring, or a beeping noise. It sounds like there is a goddamn police chase right outside my bedroom window.

  • Somebody in their apartment has a lot of sex, and even though I think they are ambiguously gay, it's likely the two of them together. And they both make really loud, really weird sex noises. I am certainly in favor of people having a lot of sex, but if I really wanted to know the details, I'd be watching porn. Shut the windows if you are one of these people, or your neighbors will walk around going, "oh, suhhhhWEET, oh, suhhhhhWEET" like you do, and they will also imitate all of the weird livestock noises you make when you're getting laid.

  • They don't shut off their alarm clocks when they go out of town. I have to call maintenance about once a month to key into their place and turn the clocks off.

  • Once, before I'd even met these people, the Evil FedEx Driver was suddenly illiterate and left a package intended for me at their apartment. The Ambiguously Gay Beatniks went CRAZY and left me notes under my door and wedged under the doorknocker and threatened to keep my package if I did not claim it right away. I was out of town for a FUNERAL and had no idea this had even happened until the next day. Oh mah good lord, I am so sorry that your stupid ass SIGNED FOR MY PACKAGE and then decided it needed to grow some legs and walk over to my place. If you don't want my stuff in your apartment? Don't sign for it!

  • They've got a bigass "Bush For 4 More" sign in their window. No. Just...no.