Come back cockroaches!
I know I complained about cockroaches in the past, but last night we discovered we share our apartment building with a worse kind of New York pest....the Crazy Cat Lady.
I don't know where she's been these first 4 months, but the annoyance started last night when our upstairs neighbour was hammering loudly and stomping as if cement moonboots were going out of fashion. And there were other noises which could only be described as someone dropping dumbells on wooden floors.
When this was still going at 1am, I went upstairs and knocked on the door. I heard footsteps coming, but the door only opened a crack, and a hand passed a pillow out at me, which I let drop to the floor...hmmm. So I knocked again and a frumpy middle-aged woman answered (Herald Sun gals, she looks like Joselyn the night editor, and sports similar fashions). And her apartment appeared to be piled high with junk, like she's some crazy hoarder...so creepy. And I know she has at least 1 cat because I hear it running laps sometimes, but who knows, there could be an army of them.
I've seen this woman before, and she NEVER thanks me when I hold the downstairs door open for her, or pass her in the hall. So, I explained to her nicely that we can't sleep with all the noise she's making, and she said quickly and meekly "ok, we'll stop", but did she stop? NO, she was still pacing in her stompy shoes at 4AM! FOUR AM I TELLS YA! Just pacing back and forth, in the room directly above our bed.
Yesterday was the "Avon Walk For Breast Cancer", over the Brooklyn Bridge, so I thought maybe this woman is an agoraphobic but still wants to take part - hence the 5 hours of non-stop pacing in the tiny apartment. Then I thought, maybe she's building a giant wicker-man to put on the roof, and burn me inside. Then I decided I should report her to the building super....but I had fears the super would say "but the woman who lives above you died last week" and I'd really seen a ghost. What happens if a ghost throws a pillow at you? Is that a sign???
There are a few of these hermit-types in our building...who have lived here for decades and are paying 1960s rent rates thanks to the rent-control act. I think they despise us newcomers, but our ridiculous rent is probably paying for the upkeep of the building. But I tell you, it's nothing like Friends. I had dreams of sharing these walls with a Monica and a Rachel, maybe even a Joey, but nope, I get to live under Crazy Cat Lady, and nextdoor to Aggro Yappy Dog Lover. As I type this now, at 4.30 in the afternoon, I can hear Cat Lady pacing upstairs again, and like Carrie Bradshaw "I cannot help but wonder" how long it will be before I too become crazy, tapping my ceiling with a broomstick and shouting "shut the F#$K UP!!!"
I don't know where she's been these first 4 months, but the annoyance started last night when our upstairs neighbour was hammering loudly and stomping as if cement moonboots were going out of fashion. And there were other noises which could only be described as someone dropping dumbells on wooden floors.
When this was still going at 1am, I went upstairs and knocked on the door. I heard footsteps coming, but the door only opened a crack, and a hand passed a pillow out at me, which I let drop to the floor...hmmm. So I knocked again and a frumpy middle-aged woman answered (Herald Sun gals, she looks like Joselyn the night editor, and sports similar fashions). And her apartment appeared to be piled high with junk, like she's some crazy hoarder...so creepy. And I know she has at least 1 cat because I hear it running laps sometimes, but who knows, there could be an army of them.
I've seen this woman before, and she NEVER thanks me when I hold the downstairs door open for her, or pass her in the hall. So, I explained to her nicely that we can't sleep with all the noise she's making, and she said quickly and meekly "ok, we'll stop", but did she stop? NO, she was still pacing in her stompy shoes at 4AM! FOUR AM I TELLS YA! Just pacing back and forth, in the room directly above our bed.
Yesterday was the "Avon Walk For Breast Cancer", over the Brooklyn Bridge, so I thought maybe this woman is an agoraphobic but still wants to take part - hence the 5 hours of non-stop pacing in the tiny apartment. Then I thought, maybe she's building a giant wicker-man to put on the roof, and burn me inside. Then I decided I should report her to the building super....but I had fears the super would say "but the woman who lives above you died last week" and I'd really seen a ghost. What happens if a ghost throws a pillow at you? Is that a sign???
There are a few of these hermit-types in our building...who have lived here for decades and are paying 1960s rent rates thanks to the rent-control act. I think they despise us newcomers, but our ridiculous rent is probably paying for the upkeep of the building. But I tell you, it's nothing like Friends. I had dreams of sharing these walls with a Monica and a Rachel, maybe even a Joey, but nope, I get to live under Crazy Cat Lady, and nextdoor to Aggro Yappy Dog Lover. As I type this now, at 4.30 in the afternoon, I can hear Cat Lady pacing upstairs again, and like Carrie Bradshaw "I cannot help but wonder" how long it will be before I too become crazy, tapping my ceiling with a broomstick and shouting "shut the F#$K UP!!!"
posted by Manolo Blah Blah at 1:32 AM
5 Comments:
Lou Lou Lou. Dont swear at her, video her! She might love it, and the two of you can make some money out of it selling it to some shit cable show? Maybe?
Speaking of cable... I discovered the Pimp My Ride team came to Sweden. Kinda funny.
Also, speaking of friends I watched many eps last night at papa Nordys house and YOU must seek out fun neighbours like that.. each and every friends has so many good qualities. Joey and Chandler make me tummy hurt -find men like that!
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Night 2: She's at it again...stomp stomp. It's 11.30pm...might wait til 1am again and pay her a visit.
Love the shout out to HS peeps...I thought I was the only one who marvelled at her hideous clothes. Oh Lou, how I underestimate you time and again! The night shift is clearly where clothes that should have died in the early 1980s rise again.
Yeah, I'm really gonna break into a crazy person's apartment Sal-leeee! (spate mulochy). She actually stopped the stomping at about midnight, it's bizarre. I wonder what she was doing that first night. We found out her name and David googled her...she's some sort of 'folkoric' dancer. It just gets weirder and weirder hey?
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