I hate a lot of things: sweaty pits, calories, when popcorn gets stuck in my teeth, and the taste of plastic, to name just a few. I very rarely apply the word hate to people. I feel it’s too strong of an emotion for other human beings, who are just trying to do their thing. My mama taught me to just say, “highly dislike” when referring to a person. Well, don’t tell my mom, but I HATE THE GUY UPSTAIRS.
I tried to just “highly dislike” him, but I can’t. I can’t. I simply hate him, and for damn good reason too.
Let me explain.
Despite the fact that he knows his entire living space resides over our bedroom, he actively chooses to drop heavy objects on the floor at 2:00 AM.
Instead of simply closing his closet door, he slams it like a dumb ape. Same with the kitchen cabinets. I wonder, sometimes, if he has no clue that doors don’t need to be slammed in order to shut. Some people are dumb like that.
Almost every night he rearranges his entire living space. That, or he is dragging dead bodies around, doing God-knows-what with them. For a time I was terrified, convinced that we had the next Ed Gein above us. I mean, WHAT ELSE MAKES THAT SOUND?
This dude is the reason I have so little respect for approximately 90% of the human population on Earth. He’s inconsiderate, consciously unaware, and obviously he’s rarely been told he’s in the wrong.
If I was made aware that I was making someone else lose sleep, I would immediately start being more conscious and careful of the noise I make. I hate when people don’t like me, so much so, I would make it more than a point to do my part to make them happy. It’s because I’m a good fucking person, and I have a guilt complex.
In my desperation, exhaustion, delirium, I’ve occasionally felt the need to, perhaps, make friends with him, to beg him, on bended knee, to let me FUCKING SLEEP. But, then, he drops a bowling ball precisely 20 times between the hours of 1:00 AM and 3:00 AM, and I’m reminded that I have standards, when it comes to my friends.
Because our world is full of the “everyone gets an award” mentality and the, “I’m not going to admit I’m wrong, so I’ll cry shaming” standard, this guy is totally within his rights to be a total inconsiderate ass. If your idea of “regular living noise” is playing catch with a can of corn, and you’re a horrible catcher, then ‘play ball’, ya fuck.
THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING I CAN DO.
The only recourse I have is to slam my squeeky window closed at 5:30 AM, when I know he’s likely trying to sleep. Or, I’ll not be dainty about getting my coffee mug out from under all the rest of the dishes in the drain rack. Oops, I knocked over all of the dishes. My bad. Literally seconds after my impulse revenge noise-making, I feel guilty. I’m not a shitty person. Responding in a way rude people would just isn’t what I’m about. I’m better than that.
So, I continue to whisper, tiptoe, and make as little noise as I can in the early morning because I’m a good fucking person. It sucks.
I only hope that because I’m a good person, he will move on someday, preferably somewhere no one else has to deal with “Guy Who Gives No Fucks”, because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.
If you feel my pain, but need to laugh through the pain, check out this video. It’s pretty accurate: