the neighbors of my life

So now that it is spring there has been a complete overhaul on who lives in my building and the building adjacent to mine.

Throughout my rental history my neighbors have always been really inconsiderate people. Now as I sit and try to watch t.v. I am forced to listen to the heavy bass of my downstairs neighbor’s music. To clue you in to the extent of his bass I would like to note that he is also a dj. He has lived here for a while, but recently his girlfriend moved out so he has lost his nice buffer. I have always thought he was a jackass and other people in the building share my view. He is aware of this and he used to pimp out his girlfriend to borrow sugar, borrow movies or get rides to the grocery store. No one would ever give it to him if he asked on his own. Asking him for something in return is out of the question. He freaked out once because my roommate asked him for a roll of toilet paper. Anyway, now that the girlfriend is gone he is letting his true asshole out. His music will end around 10 p.m. that will only give about two hours before the fucker on the other end of the building begins to practice drumming. Yes your addition in right Mr. F. starts drumming at midnight or later and will sometimes drum until 7:00 a.m. This cycle has been happening for about three weeks. My roommate has taken to sleeping in the living room now. I am not a prude but when you come home from work in an after school program inside of an alternative charter high school all you want is a little piece and quiet. The only way I think that I will get it though is if I decide to deafen myself.

Although this is bad, but not as bad as the duplex I lived in with my sister a couple of years ago. My neighbors in the duplex had a very interesting living situation and interesting parenting skills. The people who live there are: the mother, father, the teenaged girlfriend of their son and the girlfriend's and son's little girl. The little girl is a victim of what looks like cerebral palsy.

The first few months are fine, you wouldn’t know that we had neighbors, then more and more often the son/boyfriend starts coming around with his friends. These boys end up having a run of the house whenever they are there and end up staying there for weeks at a time and often disappearing for the same time period. You always know when the boys are home because the entire house smells like pot and the music is so loud the neighboring house can hear the music. (I asked they said yes.) The afternoons after the gang wake up and the weekends are non-stop music. Sleeping is non-existent Fridays through Sundays. I wish I were exaggerating when I say that it was pure torture. For the second Christmas that I lived there the son/boyfriend got a microphone so not only do I have to hear the 8 mile soundtrack for weeks on end, but I also have to hear this kid rap badly along with it at full microphone loudness. There are not words to describe how loud this is. Once he got the mic he stayed until we got them evicted in May.

The boy is not supposed to live there. I know this because the landlord has said so (He seemed surprised when I let him know about him) and I think that it is also a condition of the state that the boyfriend does not live there. (I believe because of the little girl’s condition) A Social Worker visits about once a week and when she comes to the door you can see this boy run to the garage and shut the door. (The walls are thin and the house is heavily insulated due to its proximity to the airport so the conversations have hinted to him not being in their life as a condition.)

We have had several instances where we have talked to them about the noise. One time my sister ends up going over there because once again we cannot hear the movie we are trying to watch and are getting contact highs. When she comes back she tells me the dad and the group of boys were sitting on the couch smoking marijuana and the loud music ends up being a porn movie.

The saddest thing about this living situation is that the little girl is wheelchair bound from her condition. It sounds like she is often alone somewhere in the house, because the duplex is old and hardly wheelchair accessible and they just leave her where ever. While everyone else is downstairs with the music so loud you can’t think this little girl is screaming for her mother, who often abandons her where she is not. The girl calls for her for hours until her voice just can’t call any more and her cries are muffled sqeaks. It ends up breaking my heart.

Deep down I hope that their getting evicted makes them think about the little girl, how the eviction looks to the social worker and maybe scares them a little about losing her. I am pessimistic though and doubt that what my sister and I did had any effect on that situation.

Cuidate Cynthia. Todavia pienso en ti y ojala que tu estas mejor.