PRESENT DAY: So I moved, from the capital city of the state in which I live, to a smaller city just a few miles further. Which is why I was largely absent for so long. December 30th to February 1st was a total nightmare of frantically searching, packing, scrubbing, unpacking, scrubbing again (I want my deposit back, dammit) and trying to get used to the layout and little noises and habits of the new neighbors. But at least my new neighbors - thus far - seem to be sane.
I was previously living in a 140 year old Victorian in the city's historical district. Fancy schmancy title for a fucking slum where drug deals and drive-bys were a common occurrence. The Vic had been divided up into 8 apartments. For an entire year, my next door neighbors were coke dealers who would loudly discuss their transactions for any and all to hear, have a constant stream of customers coming in and out at all hours, etc. The common room where the mailboxes were was constantly filled with pot smoke. I'd run in to check the mail and come out five seconds later with a massive contact high. I was nice to them because I didn't want trouble, and they were nice to me, but I fucking hated them. Finally, they were evicted, and I foolishly thought I could go back to my normal, quiet life.
Last Spring, my lovely South American upstairs neighbor moved out and a new tenant moved in. The first time I saw him, I shuddered. He was approximately six feet tall with a slack jawed face, gangly and mush-mouthed. His hair was always a mess. He looked and acted and talked like a halfwit. I'm not sure if he was constantly drunk or just terminally burned out after a couple of decades (namely the 60s and 70s) skull-fucking his brain cells right out of his ears with any chemicals he could get his hands on. He claimed to be a full time musician. I found his band on Facebook once: two guys with banjos, a tuba and 44 fans. He did not work and rarely left the house. He slept all day and dropped shit on the floor all night. One morning at about 4am, I shot straight up out of a sound sleep after what sounded like a bicycle was thrown full force against the floor over my head. I asked him nicely to please knock it off.
He apparently took this as an overture to be best friends. He started knocking on my door. I never answered. He would yell out his window at me, mumbling indecipherable shit about being neighbors. I ignored him. He ran up behind me as I was getting out of the car one night after work and scared the shit out of me. He wanted to tell someone that he had complained about the construction noise next door, as if he expected me to pin a gold star on his shirt. I told him to mind his own noise. He stood out on the lawn one day as I returned from the laundromat, tousled and unsteady, loudly stating: "WE NEED TO TALK." I said "No we don't" and slammed the door in his face.
Finally, the day before New Years Eve of last year, he was waiting on the stairs for me when I got home. He looked absolutely fucking crazy, frozen in a crouch as if he were about to leap forward and tackle me. He just stared at me for several long seconds, then raised a pointing finger and began rambling about my thoughtlessness.
And that was it. I screamed in his face to fuck off, leave me alone, never EVER look at me or talk to me again, never EVER knock on my door again, fuck off Fuck Off FUCK OFF AND DIE YOU CREEP! And he actually recoiled and retreated back up the stairs. Not good enough. I called the cops on his freaky ass and made them go up to his apartment and tell him to leave me the fuck alone. They did. I immediately starting apartment hunting - not easy to do when you work full time.
One week later, he fucking knocked on my door again, begging forgiveness. I pretended not to be home. I started sneaking in and out of my own house. I didn't want to ever have to look at his elongated, intelligence devoid face ever again.
I found a new apartment two weeks later, by some fucking miracle. I live in an Ivy League city, and the rents around here are fucking ridiculous. But this new place was bigger, slightly cheaper and available immediately. I packed and got the fuck out without ever seeing that creep again.
The new apartment was vacated after the landlord forcibly evicted the drug dealers who were living here, with their ferrets. I offered to clean the place if he knocked some money off the rent, which he accepted. Christ, this place was fucking filthy. I've been scrubbing grease and ferret shit off the floors for weeks now and it's still not clean. I'm determined it will be spotless by Spring.
And that, my dear friends, is why I haven't updated in a while. And yes, I know I say FUCK a lot. Fucking deal with it.