"That's the fucking truth!"
"You're a fucking idiot!"
"Shut the fuck up before I slap your ugly head!"
"Get the fuck back inside a get me a fucking beer!"

Life isn't so grand here at this upscale, expensive colony. When I moved in here two years ago, this was one of the most expensive apartment complexes in town, a gated community full of yuppies and families. You didn't have to worry about dings on your car because everyone was too careful with their imported sports cars and luxury sedans. The only noise pollution was the sounds of children laughing as they played in the playground. The couple above me was a friendly, married pair of medical professionals who were rarely home and slept all the time when they were. In a neighborhood like this, *I* was the riffraff, the young single man who had friends over until midnight to watch TV. Living here wasn't perfect; across from me was a snippy young couple who wouldn't give me the time of day, but today they would be the least of my worries.

It's been almost a year since new neighbors moved in above me and proceeded to STOMP STOMP STOMP every footstep. Near-nightly parties until the wee hours became the norm, and not just on weekends. Loud music, shuffling of furniture, and endless shouting were my companions many nights as I tried to fall asleep. While I looked forward to the anniversary of their arrival in the hopes they'd leave without renewing their lease, I couldn't help but notice a slide in the rest of the community around me. The luxury sedans were replaced by beat-up old pick-up trucks with obscene decals in the windows. The laughter gave way to throbbing bass beats and car alarms.

Tonight I came home to new neighbors above me to the side; I won't hear their stomping, but I've already heard their drunken, loud, obscene argument on the screened porch, which has been going for five hours now. They're fraternity brothers, standing in public view wearing nothing but crumpled baseball caps and low-hanging cargo shorts, waving their beer bottles as they shout their favorite four-letter word at each other from mere feet away, oblivious to foot traffic below.

On the surface, the apartments haven't changed at all. They're still immaculately maintained and cost a fortune, and you never spot a piece of litter twice. How have I wound up surrounded by obnoxious scumbags? I don't know where I'm going to go next, but I know it's going to be a house, preferably with a big lawn all around it.


Five Replies to Newer Neighbors Upstairs

Amy Austin | August 11, 2007
I'm so sorry for you, Scott... :-[

Can you see now why I can't stand to rent anymore and why I long to be back in *my own* house, even if it means buying one with ridiculous hazard insurance in Florida??? (Which is not as much the case in central Florida, btw...)

Jackie Mason | August 12, 2007
[hidden by author request]

Lori Lancaster | August 12, 2007
[hidden by author request]

Lori Lancaster | August 12, 2007
[hidden by author request]

Tony Peters | August 13, 2007
When I first started dating my wife we lived in this semi gated yuppie condo complex neighborhood in San Diego. One summer night really really late we are all trying to sleep and this guy and a girl are going at it....not a big deal except that she's one of those moaner/screamer types whole seems to take forever to cum (or he was just really bad we never found out) anyway her cries went on for a good 30 minute before I couldn't stand it anymore and yelled out the window at the top of my lungs (and I can yell LOUD, ask Amy) "Just make HER cum already so we can all go to sleep" Suddenly after a moment of quiet there is a good 30 seconds of applause from the rest of the neighbors. We never heard her again (poor woman) but we saw her for 4-5 months afterwards


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

WGW: If It's Good Enough for Dan Marino, It's Good Enough for Me

This is more like Weight-Gain Wednesday after a week and a half with Kelly, bouncing around Sarasota restaurants and Disney World. No matter how many thousands of calories I burned walking around that theme park for three days, I'm sure I consumed twice as many, and that was just in fudge from the Main Street Confectionery. Now that I'm back and I've done some very scientific research – asking a friend whether she hated one – I have chosen NutriSystem over Medifast as the exclusive supplier of my every meal. Go »

Parting Thought

I read in the news today that a British businessman will get to visit space in 2009 on his frequent-flyer miles alone. (link) I bet this gives David Phillips a damn good idea. (link) Go »

Party Time, Excellent

I rarely enjoy going to parties and I never drink, so it has come as a surprise to me that I have lately developed a love of hosting parties where friends drink. Kelly and I have thrown three parties in three months, each with around 20-25 guests: A Labor Day cookout with swimming in the pool, a Halloween party with costumes and horror games, and a Christmas party with a gift swap. I think we're done for a little while, just to give ourselves a break, because it takes a lot of cleaning and shopping and preparing to throw parties like this. Go »

Rolling Revisionism

In all of the coverage of the execution of Danny Rolling, I keep reading that he was "Florida's most notorious serial killer since Ted Bundy." (link) Umm... Doesn't anybody remember Aileen Wuornos? Go »

Crash

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Snowbound

I'm off to Springfield for the weekend to help Kelly move. YAY SNOW. Back late Monday night. Go »