"Lovely" Neighbours

Oh, the wonders of living in an apartment building! The ground floor rules!

Children playing just outside your window is not a big problem, but children screaming their lungs out just outside your window can be a great problem, especially if you're studying for an important exam. The window to my own room is just next to the main entrance in the building, so I can hear everybody talking, buzzing on the interphone and the like. If I lie still in bed, I feel the vibes of everybody stomping their feet in the hallway. But let's just say that's not the biggest of problems.

A weird phenomenon takes place just outside my kitchen window: food rains. Don't you people have garbage bins? I didn't know the source of this heavenly production until one day some neighbours were out in the garden and I overheard their comments. One asked who throws food outside, and another answered that the lady on the third floor does that. The above named lady is anything but a lady. She noses around in everybody's business, and she truly is a news/gossip board. If you want to find out anything about any neighbour you'd care to name, go to her, she has the right answer for you. She checks out everybody's mail. Since the mail boxes in the hallway are rather old, and not all of them can be locked, she opens the ones that are not locked and noses around. A young neighbour of mine complained that she opens his phone bills.
Fortunately my own box is properly locked. But at some point we neglected to collect the mail for about a week or so, and she repeatedly announced different members of my family over an interval of two or three days that we have an envelope in the mail box. She probably drooled heavily over the image of the envelope juuuust out of her reach.

Oh, and today I went out to the balcony to enjoy the lovely summer air while having a cup of coffee and a cigarette. But I was driven back inside by a wave of dust coming from the balcony right above mine, on the first floor. The people there think it fit that they should clean their carpets, dust their blankets and so forth out on the balcony. Just think of the joys of having your washed towels out to dry and a cloud of carpet dust coming their way. You can wash them all over again, unless it brings you special joy to wipe your face with the dust of the neighbours' carpet, or if you worship your neighbours so much that even their rubbish seems precious to you.

Monday 24 July 2006