Do you like your neighbors? Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors think I’m a weirdo. For example, the girl that lives on one side of me shares a wall with my bathroom. I do a lot of thinking in the shower, but it’s usually out loud and sometimes using different voices and accents or creating scenarios or comedy bits etc. I sing in the shower too. I know she hears me because the girl who used to live in that apartment told me she could hear me. I saw her one day and said something like, “If you ever hear anything weird coming from my apartment, it’s because I do comedy”(I figured that would cover it). And she said, “Oh, okay, because a few times my friend and I just looked at each other like WHAT IS THAT?” We both laughed awkwardly.
However, that is one of the great things about living alone. You can say and do all the crazy things you want and no one is there to judge you (aside from your eavesdropping neighbors), plus, you can eat food straight out of a pot and use whatever utensil is closest.
I’m pretty sure my neighbors on the next block have seen me naked a lot. I don’t know how many times I’ve taken a shower and forgot to close the curtains, or just left too many lights on. I’m on the second floor, and I don’t know how long I lived here before I realized that the people on the next block, whose backyards face my apartment building, can easily see in my windows. I even drove by the houses on the next block to see what they can see, and don’t you know, they get a nice, clear view of my windows and of course, my naked body. I’m sure they’ve also witnessed my workouts which I do in my apartment, however, I do put clothes on for that. Without a sports bra, we’re all risking injury, whether it’s physical or visual.
The worst neighbor I ever had actually got me evicted. Here’s how it went down; I lived on the first floor and she lived on the second floor, but across from me. So if my windows were open and her windows were open, she could hear EVERYTHING, including my personal conversations. But I know she was one of those creeps that liked listening in on other people’s conversations.
It’s a really long story with a lot of back and forth, but I’m going to give you the condensed version of it.
Sometimes I like to listen to music loud, in fact, I think a lot of music should be listened to loud…or is it loudly? Anyway, it’s not all the time; it’s when I clean my apartment or after a few martinis. But I’m not unreasonable. I don’t play it at obnoxious hours and it’s not that often. But this crazy neighbor, who I would guess was about 60 years old, had a really hard time with me and my loud music. She came to my door and complained and whined and I sincerely apologized and told her I would keep my windows closed when I was listening to music.
She knocked on my door another time and told me that I was talking too loud. I always apologized and told her to let me know and I would close my windows, but once in awhile, I would just forget to close my windows. Well, she eventually called the cops on me. Called the fucking cops! As if the LAPD has nothing better to do than to respond to calls from bitter cry babies about loud music. And more importantly, I play GREAT music. Who would complain about the Stones, Stevie Wonder, Jimi Hendrix? A loser, that’s who.
The manager of the building who lived across from me, liked me, and told me more than once that the complaining neighbor was a pain in the ass and not to pay much attention to her, but to just close the windows. The real problem happened when the owners sold the building and the new owners got rid of the manager who liked me. I don’t know how she did it, but the crazy neighbor that hated me convinced the new owners to make her the manager of the building. When I found that out, I knew I was screwed. She made it her personal mission to get me out of the building. She bad-mouthed me to the new owners and told them all kinds of crap to get rid of me. She told them that she had to call the cops on me, that I let all kinds of people into the building and that she smelled pot coming out of my apartment. Oops, should’ve remembered to close the windows. All her bad-mouthing finally worked and one day I got a “60 days to move out” notice. I was livid!
That meant that I had to find a new apartment, which is a big pain in the ass, and I had to come up with first/last and security deposit, which totaled about $1800. And for what? I never did anything but listen to some loud (great) music once in awhile. The worst part about it? This building had a pool! It’s the only building I ever lived in that had a pool and I loved it. I was one of the only people that used it and I used it every chance I could. Summers in the valley suck and are really hot, and I was in that pool every day. What a bitch…in more ways than one!
But I had no choice, I had to do it. So, I went apartment hunting and found my current apartment, and I love this apartment, even though it has no pool. The day I moved out from the other place, I played the album “The Chronic,” which has a lot of “N” words and curse words and overall offensive language, and I played it at the highest volume with my windows open just to piss her off. And I played it for hours. In fact, I made it so that the stereo was the last thing to move so I could just play it over and over and drive her crazy.
Cut to about a year later, I ran into her at Ralph’s (supermarket). I saw her first and walked up behind her. I waited until she turned around and looked at her right in the face and said, “You DISGUST me!” I don’t know what made me say it, I had to say something, and let’s just say it wouldn’t be the first time I provoked someone just for my own entertainment. She looked at me for a second and then said, “Oh yea, well you’re fat and ugly.” I said, “Oh really? Well, you’re fat, you’re ugly, you’re old and you’re alone! You’re a LOSER!” And I walked away from her holding my hand in the “L” symbol up to my forehead and just kept saying “Loser” until she was far enough down the aisle. It was like two kids in the schoolyard, except it was two grown women at the supermarket.
But c’mon, she had me evicted for chrissake…the whore had it coming to her. Loser! 🙂
The bottom line is; apartment living means that you have to put up with your neighbor’s lifestyles, as long as it’s not harmful. Did I call the cops when my neighbor Carl would blast death metal music at 2 in the morning? No! I’d lean my head out the window and scream for him to turn it down. He’d yell back “Sorry Celeste,” and I’d go back to sleep.
Everyone in my current building tolerates me and I tolerate them. Everyone is respectful of each other and no one is really a cry baby about anything, and they don’t seem to mind when I play DJ for the apartment building. If I see ever that woman again (who go me evicted), I’ll say, “Hey, have you ever seen the show, “The Biggest Loser?” And just walk away. 🙂
And one more thing…if you ever want to see me naked, just park on the next street.