Don’t Be An Asshole

How hard is it? Apparently, very hard, because wow, so many people are assholes. 

We all should have the right to live our lives as we see fit, but when your living takes away another’s rights, you need to slow your roll. Step back, bish.

Back when I first moved into the apartment building I live in (almost 5 years ago), I was introduced to the unwritten “rules” and considerations of the building. Those rules were, basically, “Don’t Be An Asshole”. It seemed pretty simple. Common sense, ya know? 

Some examples:

  1. Don’t run your vacuum at 3:00 AM
  2. Keep prostitute visits to a minimum
  3. Don’t leave your shit-stained underwear in the shared washer for hours, because… I shouldn’t have to explain why 
  4. Due to the paper thin walls, try to muffle your screams/moans
  5. Take your damn garbage out…or remove the dead body from the premises 
  6. A Non-Smoking building MEANS YOU DON’T SMOKE IN YOUR APARTMENT
  7. Don’t slam your doors like a spoiled-brat child 
  8. If you’re deaf, maybe music isn’t for you
  9. In case you weren’t previously aware, you are not the only tenant in a single family home-THIS IS A SHITTY APARTMENT BUILDING 

The reason these rules are especially important where I live is because the building was built in the 60’s, during a time when properties were mass-produced, hastily. Not to mention, the landlord won’t even fix a leaking toilet. Mix it all up, for a very special poop-flavored smoothie, and you have a building where when your neighbor sneezes, you say, “Bless you” and they respond, “Thank you, Katie.” These considerations are integral to the functionality of the building and the sanity of the tenants.  

For almost four glorious years, I lived here in peace. The other tenants were older, quiet, and almost hermit-like. It was the ideal life. I was never woken from my sleep. I never had to say to my neighbors, “So, um last night…for three straight hours…”

Nope. 

I almost forgot that I had any neighbors. It was how it should be. My neighbors and I abided by those unspoken, “Don’t Be a Dick” rules. Because, we weren’t dicks. 

Now, I’ve had to deal with crappy neighbors, one after the other. 

I don’t recall ever being taught, specifically, about how to be kind to my neighbors, but it was taught. It was taught when I was yelled at for blasting Bush at 11 PM on a school night. It was taught when I was reprimanded for putting my dirty dishes outside my bedroom door, for someone else to deal with. My dirty dishes found their way back on my bed, with a note, “This isn’t the Hilton.” That did it. It was taught when my dad threatened to pull the plug on a raucous slumber party, with phone and car keys in hand. That’s all it took. It was taught. 

Not only was it taught, I was witness to my parents being decent fucking people. When we saw people being creeps in public, my parents pointed out why it wasn’t decent behavior. Living in this day and age, I had an endless amount of learning opportunities. 

This rant is for the assholes who live a paper-thin wall away from me and for all the other people who aren’t aware that they aren’t the CENTER OF THE EFFING UNIVERSE. Look around, open your eyes, it isn’t all about you. 

Author: fattymccupcakes

Just a thirty-something girl trying to love herself the way she is: fat, rolls, cellulite, and fabulousness.

19 thoughts on “Don’t Be An Asshole”

  1. People suck. Living in an apartment is either one extreme or the other. I’ve been in some I love, and I’ve been in some that make me want to jab pencils into my eyes. Maybe a strongly worded anonymous letter will help?

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Fantastic rant. I love it. This is one of the many reasons I hate people, as a general rule. Egads, I hope I never have to return to apartment life. It only takes one to make life a living hell. I’m sorry for the assholes, and I hope it gets better soon.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I live in beautiful home in Stepford with gated communities around me but I still have to complain about F***ing dogs, incompetent association management companies, blah, blah, blah. I just put on my Cersei costume and rant until I get my way – it usually works. Maybe they see through the Carol/Cersei/Arya masks. I think a Scottish accent screeching is a tad scary – should I add some blue woad? I have had the worst neighbors my whole life. Don’t know how many times I have called the police or animal control. Now I am too old to care and will fight to the death (that wasn’t advice, btw)

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  4. I feel your pain. I used to have an upstairs neighbor who, like clockwork, would have loud sex every night at 2 AM. It only lasted about five minutes, but it was loud. Then there was the upstairs neighbor who apparently decided to do jumping jacks while listening to some garbage (by the way, listening to Bush at any volume at any time of day is worthy of complaint past 2003) late into the night. That person was replaced, finally, thankfully, by a couple who were studying to be Opera singers. That was an amazing time. Now, thanks to the glory of home ownership, all I have to worry about moving in upstairs are squirrels. Good luck to you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Gosh, I feel kinda bad for the people having loud sex only lasting 5 minutes. Ouch. Yeah, the new guy upstairs, it has been recently identified, was having loud “moving furniture” sex from 5:30 to 7:30 AM. What a champ.

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