DISCLAIMER: Almost any neighborhood noise is better than the lawnmower/leafblower/weedwhacker/7-days-at-7a.m. hell that was Santa Ana. But that’s no excuse. It’s like saying that being pissed on is better than having shit flung at you.
When I moved into this apartment building I agreed to certain policies. It seems like I may have been the only one. We’re supposed to make some attempt to be quiet after 11 or so, and since there’s a building full of nuns next door, that kinda makes you feel like you want to be considerate, you know? At least it does me, but then I’ve only ever known nice nuns. My Catholic education in Ireland had its share of bullying teachers, but none wore habits.
Musicians live above me. About a month ago they had a party with an annoyingly endless drum circle thing, but then they started singing happy birthday, and I was all, okay, it’s a birthday, I can roll with them doing this once a year if it’s their joy.
But then last night they party late again. And it’s Saturday night, so if it goes a bit past midnight, fine.
But here’s the thing: because the weather is warm, people open their windows. And when windows are open, everyone can hear everything. This is more significant than your individual right not to be sweaty.
And not only was there singing and guitar playing, all of it surprisingly not-good considering it was coming from supposed musicians, but it also sounded like people were dropping bowling-ball size weights on the floor every once in a while, or herding an elephant or two up and down the stairs.
Next door to me, also below the musicians, lives an old Armenian couple and their handicapped son. At about 2 a.m., they started banging on the ceiling, in the time honored neighborly gesture that means shut the fuck up because it’s late.
The neighbors above would react by briefly sounding loudly indignant, shutting up for a couple minutes, then going back to singing harmonies not unlike those of Jimmy Fallon on “The Barry Gibb Talk Show.”
Then more ceiling-banging. And all this time I’m wondering why the neighbors upstairs can’t simply SHUT THEIR WINDOWS? because it’s not like they’re yelling, but the conversation is carrying really far.
The battle continued till around 4. During the course of this I played the entirety of Metallica’s “Death Magnetic” at just enough volume so as not to hear the neighbors, but not so loud as to be annoying like them, I hope. And this while I’m trying to normalize my sleep schedule.
And we have a neighboring building with open windows too — I have to think that the decision of residents there to play really loud Mexican polka music starting at about 11 a.m. was a form of revenge. While I’m understanding of the gesture, their loud music sucked ass too.
After having lived with various family members in their homes for a number of years, I finally moved into an apartment of my own a few months ago. I was braced for having to deal with loud neighbors.
I have never ONCE heard my neighbors, and I’ve barely even seen them. It’s a 75-unit complex, so you’d think something would have come up by now, right? Nada.
But the street…OMFG, it’s the LOUDEST STREET IN AMERICA!!! I am on the corner, and it is god awful! There are sirens all the time (there must be a hospital somewhere nearby), tons of big rigs (freeway on-ramp down the road), but the worst are the f’in motorcycles.
I’d outlaw them if I could. Every day and night, zooming by, revving, making damn near jet-engine-level noise. That alone would make it worth leaving if I wasn’t locked into a lease .
Don’t you have cops to call in LA? It may takes an hour or two to get a response but at least it’s anonymous.
When I started looking for condos one of my few requests was no downstairs neighbors. There’s no way to predict how thin the walls or floors will be in an old building and I didn’t want to deal with someone who banged on the ceiling every time I played the wii.
So I found this place on the first floor, and we had everything lined up, until the housing inspector pointed out that there was a basement unit. We’d already put money and it turned out to be a very boring couple who played mellow acustic guitar and had sex every night at exactly 1:15am.
But they moved out after a year and since then it’s been an increasingly obnoxious series of college students with increasingly bigger stereo systems. And each time a new group moves in, there’s a “testing the water” period where they will play their music as loud as possible at any time of the day till someone has to complain, at which point they’ll take on a “you’re not my father!” attitude.
The summer is the worst because these new ones have taken to hanging out in the area literally 6 feet under my window and smoking, which blows right in here. I’m really going to have to put a stop to that if they start up again now that it’s warm enough to try.
Epic noise battles in Hollywood!
A sign of the neighborhood. I had a 3 year battle in Hollywood with my upstairs neighbors that included me drumming on my ceiling as they retaliated with stomping louder on the floor, or like happened with you, dropping huge weights. After they moved, a gigolo moved in and apparently he was good at his job because I heard lots of moaning and girlie squeals at all times of the night. I even managed to hear an entire sexual romp in the morning that started in the bedroom and ended in the kitchen, all while I ate a bowl of cereal.
Still in Hollywood, I once had a neighbor that I comforted after he burned down his kitchen after failing asleep while cooking shrimp. I am tickled when I watch that GI JOE parody of the kids in their kitchen (“porkchop sandwiches!”) as it reminds me of the kid I consoled.
After 7 years of those Hollywood noise machines, which also included the early morning Ranchero music from do-it-yourself car mechanics right out my window, and a coupla years of WestLA college frat boys yelling at their video game systems or during a sports game, I am now lucky to finally have an apartment that has a quiet upstairs neighbor and it’s cool enough to keep most windows closed. Plus it’s far enough of the main road to avoid Peggy’s mess.
I win.
Wow, sounds like my own apartment experience was pretty mild compared to some others here.
My story, complete with shades of Lakeview Terrace: From ‘97 ’til 2006, I actually had a relatively nice two-story apartment in Lakewood (living room and kitchen downstairs, bed/bath and closet up). Narrow, no side windows, but just roomy enough. I was living in this place when I first discovered Cathy, Luke and others online.
Only two downsides: it turned out my landlord kept rents low by doing as absolutely little maintenance as possible– the place was built in 1976, but easily looked at least 20 years older– and, my neighbors– a CHP OFFICER no less, with his wife and kid– would have a KICKING, VIOLENT, SCREAMING ALL-NIGHT ARGUMENT about once every two weeks.
I was seriously thinking of asking the on-site manager for a room transfer, or at least getting some industrial-strength earplugs, when then the graffiti-stage hit. One weekday morning after a fight, I’m locking my front door and– on the wall directly between my door and my neighbors’– the wife had scrawled “PIG” as large and ugly as she could. A few months later, she did their garage door.
Plus from what I could tell about these people, there was at least one gun (mostly likely the officer’s service revolver) in the unit. I finally decided I didn’t want to be around when the real shit hit the fan. Been living back at home since (irony alert) Halloween day of ‘06, and I frankly haven’t missed them an iota.
Try getting one of those white noise machines. THey seem to help a lot.
Or, y’know, call the cops.
As far as cops — the main reason I don’t call them, aside from the fact that they have better things to do, is I don’t think they’d hear much evidence. It wasn’t that the noise was loud, but that the windows were open so all conversations and singing could be heard, even though by most standards they would be considered a “reasonable” volume if one were in the room. Not like blatant thumping bass or anything.
Really, I normally have it better than most of y’all’s horror stories — it’s just the utter thoughtlessness that struck me here; closing the windows would have made everything better.
MAJK — you win? Your place is the most awesome?
So what was this about?
http://www.unfilteredthoughts.com/search/label/pissed
ahhhh
blackbird singing in the dead of night…
and occasionally the trash man on a Friday at 7.a.m.
just part of my little heaven.
I remember city life, used to love it – but never loved that noisy neighbour shit – landlord enforcement orders not possible?
I thought we were talking about noise! I’ve been bamboozled ladies and gentlemen! The ole’ bait and switch!
And yes comparatively, the new apartment lifestyle is many times superior to those of my past, not in every aspect mind you, but certainly in terms of noise, comfortability, neighbor behavior, overall building appearance, landlord availability, square feet, price, month-to-month, amenities such as dishwasher and onsite laundry access, and some other minor conveniences like gated patios and cultured common areas with perty trees and such.
No where near an apartment fit for King (heh, heh) but satisfactory when price is the main restraint.