I will go into detail, but the point of this entry is that I am moving out in 4 days. And I want to leave him with a middle finger to remember me by. I am going to come up with several scenarios and have people vote on what I should do in order to accomplish this. This will be a long entry, but it needs to happen.
The day I got keys to my apartment, I went in to put some shelf paper in and do some minor things before I moved all my stuff in. Within 30 minutes of being inside, I heard a knock at the door.
::Opened the door::
Him: You moving in?
Him: I'm in your carport.
Him: When are you moving in?
Me: Well I won't be needing it until Thursday, so feel free to use it 'til then.
So that was my first impression of him. "Well, that was kind of awkward, but I'm sure it's no big deal." Is what I thought. I was wrong.
A few days later I was moving some of my stuff in. I think I was carrying something fairly large, but I'm tough, I can handle it.
As I am about to head up the stairs...
Him: Don't you have a boyfriend or a husband to help you with that? (I did not.)
About a week later I had my uncle over to help me put a few paintings up. In addition, he cut a new rod to install in my closet to give me more space to hold the absurd amount of clothes that I have. Well that apparently was a problem. At 5 pm on a Saturday, the 45 seconds it took him to saw through the rod to make it the correct length became too much for my neighbor to handle.
I was in my closet, but here is apparently what happened.
Dickhole enters my apartment. My uncle walks out to find him standing in my living room.
Him: Don (my landlord) says he wants you to stop with the construction. (Had been done for 10 min already. Also had gotten permission from my landlord to do this.)
My uncle: Get out of here.
That was pretty much the only direct contact I have ever had with him. After these encounters, I soon began to realize what kind of person I was dealing with. Him and his girlfriend (?) never leave their apartment. Ever. They also smoke pot every single day, multiple times a day. I have never walked up my stairs and not seen their TV on. That is not an exaggeration. I have literally never seen that TV turn off. He drives a red VW stoner van, complete with floral window coverings and stickers everywhere (photo to be added later). They have 2 little shitty dogs that are beyond annoying and bark constantly. His girlfriend stares at me like him and I had some sort of crazy affair.
***Photo added as promised***
"Whatever." I thought. "A lot of people have issues with their neighbors. I'm living in an apartment" At this point, I didn't even really have issues with him, I just felt pretty uncomfortable, especially after he came into my apartment unannounced and uninvited.
Then the complaints started.
Let me preface this by saying, I work in property management at an apartment complex. I deal with noise complaints and neighbor complaints all day, everyday, and therefore am extremely sensitive to being a quiet neighbor. Also, I am a single girl, living alone. I work 40 hours a week. I spend a lot of those nights out with my friends. I am rarely, rarely at home. If I have people over, its a person. I think one time I had 3 whole people there at once because we were eating dinner. And they were all gone by 10 or 11.
My landlord called me to say that Dickhole was complaining that I have people over late, am extremely loud, etc. The first time I was pretty shocked and explained to my landlord that that doesn't make sense, but I let it go.
A few weeks later I was bringing home a painting. It was late, probably about 1 in the morning. I got up the stairs, opened my door, and as soon as I walked in - I dropped the painting. "Crap." I thought. "Oh well."
Then the banging started. I dropped something by accident, and Dickhole began banging on my ceiling.
The next morning at 9 am, I get another call from my landlord. "He says you were being really loud at 1 am." "Don," I said, "I dropped a painting on my way in the door last night. It was a split second. This guy is crazy." Don listened. "This guy smokes pot 24/7, has his TV running constantly, has annoying little shits of dogs that bark all the time. And I don't say anything. Because I live in an apartment and I am aware of what comes along with that. He needs to chill out and realize he chose to live underneath someone and buy a house if he has this many issues with apartment living."
Don agreed. He said he was going to call Dickhole and tell him he needs to back off and buy some ear plugs if he is that sensitive (which he did).
I felt relieved. Finally this was over.
I should also add that this guy is a total pussy. Everytime we pass each other in the common areas he avoids eye contact at all cost while I stare him down with my evil death stare. I could totally take him.
I left a small bag of trash outside my door a few times very briefly while I was preparing to leave for the day and take it out on my way out. Dickhole/Dickhole's girlfriend snapped a picture of it, sent it to the HOA with a complaint so I received a nice little letter saying that "someone has complained about this issue and sent a picture of it." I'm sure there are things I am leaving out, this is just what I can think of.
One night I had a friend over. It was probably about 11 or so- again, only me and one other person. We were just talking and messing around. As a joke, my friend spit some water at me. Of course, my natural tendency was to run away to avoid the water.
Apparently, this was another problem.
Dickhole banged on the ceiling.
Me and my friend were drinking so my friend decided to give it right back to him. He jumped high in the air and came down with a loud thud. The banging stopped.
Because then "the music" started.
"The music" had happened before. But only once or twice so I let it go. I put "the music" in quotes because it wasn't just music. This was one CD. One awful, awful, CD that this guy played, over, and over, and over, and over again. To make things worse, it's some terrible 90's rock that I never was able to distinguish. It's like, Creed meets Guns N' Roses meets Nickelback. Terrible. I hope someday, somehow, I actually hear this CD for more than its bass line because I will know it immediately and it will be hilarious.
"We should go give him another CD so at least we get to wake up to something decent."
-my boyfriend at the time.
He plays this CD at an insanely loud volume. Like, wakes-you-up-from-a-deep-sleep-and-immediately-throws-you-into-panic-mode loud. I finally decided it was some type of alarm that the music was set to, because it was always early in the morning, and always at an earth shattering volume.
I didn't want to complain because I don't like complaining. But it happened a few other times, so I finally decided to email my landlord about it. I attached the email if you have any interest in reading it. If not keep scrolling down...
I forgot to add that on Thursday, Dickhole played the music and purposefully skipped all the slower songs. So I didn't get to hear the ballad that follows the first offensively terrible song. I was so confused until it happened with all the slower songs (I have essentially memorized the entire CD). This means he was actually sitting there, pressing "NEXT," in order to annoy me to the fullest extent.
- Don't do anything. I'm obviously the more mature adult in the situation, so I should just walk away, and never think about this guy again.
- Throw a rager on Tuesday night because I won't need to wake up there Wednesday morning.
- Find some shitty CD to leave on his shitty red van with a note saying something to the effect of: "I figured you might want some new music since the one CD you listen to will probably give out soon. Thanks for being a great neighbor! XOXO."
- (This one was brought to my attention last night, but I am loving it.) Go buy some piece of crap stereo, insert crappy CD, turn volume all the way up, lock door, leave forever.