As much as I
adore my new apartment, there is still one drawback to living in an apartment
building (aside from no dishwasher and not washing machine).
Neighbours.
For the most part, I've lucked out with the neighbours here. (Remember the neighbours we had in Philly?) The lady next door is very pleasant, though I've only seen her
twice since moving in. I have yet to see her son, or the other person who moved
in a couple weeks ago (I'm assuming either her daughter or her son's
girlfriend...).
The landlord's
daughter and her boyfriend live in the apartment below mine. I've run into her
maybe two or three times. She is also very nice.
Next to her,
there is a family of migrant farmers (parents and two kids). I see them the
most, and they're probably the friendliest out of everyone. My only issue with
them is that every once in a while, the family across the street comes over
so all the kids can play together, and for some reason they feel like it's a
good idea to have all the kids play in the driveway. A driveway in which six
cars are frequently coming and going.
Then there's the
people in the basement.
I hate people. I
hate small talk. I hate being forced to interact with people on a small-talk
level, but I'll do it when the situation calls for it.
For example, if
you happen to pass your neighbours in the shared driveway, it's not a lot to
ask to give them a pleasant "good morning" or least a "hi."
Because the basement-dwellers
allow me to use their rubbish bins free of charge (otherwise I'd have had to
pay $20/month for my own), I thought they must be relatively nice people. I
offered to split the $20/month, but they said no. That's very nice of them.
But every time I pass one of them and try for the friendly "good morning"
or "hi" or what have you, I get Side-Eye-Chloeied.
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| x |
If Mr.
Basement-Dweller is out on his own, I might get a grunt or a muttered
"hi" back. If it's both Mr. and Mrs. Basement-Dweller, I get
Side-Eye-Chloeied all the way to the front door.
Mrs.
Basement-Dweller seems to have a particular hatred for me. At first I thought I
was just paranoid, but I've seen her chatting all friendly-like with Mrs.
Migrant Farmer and the people across the street while their kids play together,
and chatting with the dude across the street who handles most of the
maintenance in our building, so she obviously doesn't hate everyone. I've tried
really hard to be nice to her, but I feel like every time I do something like
compliment her bumper stickers (because in fairness, she has some hilarious bumper stickers), she just gives me dirtier looks than she did before.
But enough about
that.
Let's talk about
her f**king minivan.
As per
everyone's lease, each apartment gets one of the five parking spaces (5
apartments = 5 parking spaces). It's a b*tch backing out of my parking space if
Mr. Basement-Dweller's car is in the driveway parked next to mine, but it can
be done with a 5-point turn. The reason being that the stupid unnecessary
handrails leading down to the basement apartment stick out into the driveway in
the most awkward spot ever, and you have to do a 5+ point turn avoid hitting
them and knocking them over (Mr. Basement-Dweller and I have both destroyed the railings, more than once).
Everyone else
who lives in the building but doesn't get a parking space parks on the street
right outside the building. There are only like 20 people living in the
whole village, so it's not exactly hard to find a space right outside our
building. All the other tenants manage it without a problem.
Except for Mrs.
Basement-Dweller.
More often than
not, she parks in the driveway.
Here's how the
driveway is set up:
And here's where
Mrs. Basement-Dweller parks her minivan.
If she pulls
right up to the garage, I might be able to get out if I make a 30-point turn.
Usually when I am attempting this, Mr. and Mrs. Basement-Dweller stare at me
from right outside their front door, giving me dirty glares.
The other day, I
tried and failed to get out of my parking space, so I rolled my window down and
asked very politely, "could' y'all please move the van?"
Mrs.
Basement-Dweller's response was a very audible "UUGGHHH", and then
she stabbed her cigarette out rather violently into their overflowing ashtray,
went inside, and slammed the door behind her.
Mr.
Basement-Dweller stood there for a protracted moment, obviously under the
assumption that Mrs. Basement-Dweller had gone in to get her keys so she could
move the van. When she did not return after some time, he stuck his head inside
and said something to her, and then he went and got the keys and moved the van.
And I was like
ummmmmmm ok do y'all want me to take out your railings again? Should I arrange
to have my car lifted out of the driveway with a crane?? COULD ONE OF YOU MAYBE
PARK IN THE FECKING STREET LIKE EVERYONE ELSE?
Lil Bro#2's explanation: "Obviously it's
because she's an old witch who wants to steal your youth and beauty from you.
Watch out. Don't drink any mysterious liquids that show up on your
doorstep."
Sounds legit.
Have a good weekend y'all!
