Thursday, April 12, 2012

Phil, bananas, trash

Phil rattled my screen. Home from his church he offered me more bananas. They had cases piled high on pallets for the last food bank. I guess they kept some boxes to use for their Easter Sunday brunch.  David happened to be walking down the stairs. Phil whispered for me to tell him. I asked "Does he know?"

I had planned to call David after 8PM ~ he said he works until 8, so senseless to call earlier. More hours of slam, bam, bang, boom, John and Tweety out back talking last night, Clueless as to what the new sound is ~ first time I heard it, thought repair crew was in apartment next door, banging on pipes ~ replacing bathtub or something.

But no, even though it sounds like it is coming from that apartment, the LOUD rattling noise is coming from John's apartment. 7:30AM this morning. It usually startles me, sort of a rumbling, lasting only a minute or so. Wanted to call Mr. Manager to ask him to  remind John and Tweety to keep the noise down ~ not just when he tells them, but for all time. WTF is wrong with those people!

One of John's bikes was only out there for a day or two. He added what appears to be wheel chairs. Not the big cumbersome kind, the lightweight type, seniors might use when they go grocery shopping. They were loosely covered over with foil. Since Tweety was up being noisy in the kitchen, I did not go closer to get a better look at what was partially covered; just saw the wheels, folded up, seat.

Later when I opened the door, the foil blew half way off the wheeled devices, flapping in the wind, completely blocking the gate. Well, sure, if I wanted to go out there, I could have moved the foil, but as I told David, I do not like to touch other people's things. Even if those things are blocking access to public gate.

Because I said what I did to Phil, Phil decided to speak up and tell him John has someone living with him. Sourpuss David said, "I know, I already reported him." Even though David was being his mean self, I spoke up about using public walkway as storage space, mentioned foil blowing all over in front of the gate.

I peeked out my kitchen blinds. Did not see the foil, so quietly opened the door. The foil had blown completely off the the other stuff. Trash bag still on top of the cart. I was glad that the foil was still there, but would have been nice if it was still blowing in the wind. I guess David told John, he has to move it.

Noise, both John and Tweety out back; John cussing up a storm ~ "sorry ass motherfucker".

"Not you," he says to Tweety, "David...".

I want to say he called him a punk ass motherfucker also, but not sure I heard that as he continued his angry, outburst. I wanted to pick up the phone, call David and complain about John disturbing my peace cussing outside my window, but obviously David was going somewhere with his nephew.

John and Tweety's noise that was going on prior to them being interrupted by David, is still going strong. What do they do in that apartment? I was in kitchen earlier, thump on my wall. Walk to bathroom; thump on my bathroom wall. WTF! Do they rearrange the furniture daily ~ dragging Great Room stuff into tiny kitchen, then back again? It does not make sense.

This is too much. In addition to this hours long noise, there is the all day, everyday, slamming of drawers, the barbell hitting kitchen floor LOUD startling sound, the new banging on the pipes sound, the squealing kitchen faucet sound, the constant TV, the 3:30Am party noises, Tweety's shouting ~ not yelling, just the normal way people speak to someone who is in another room, her telephone calls when he is not at home. How much more can I take.

Only good news is (knock wood) have not heard Chris coughing in a long time. Think he is staying at his lover's apartment in OC. He has been here a few times, talking behind my apartment with another man and Tweety. Plus I think Tweety goes over to his apartment when David is not around to converse.

I am making little progress on my prepare to move by discarding unneeded stuff work. Sigh. But I gotta get out of this place.

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