After several months of complaining about my upstairs neighbor, I finally decided to go talk to him in person rather than call the cops on his ass for a fourth time. I’ve recently been opting to being nice when confronting people as opposed to being a bitch (it’s proven effective thus far).
So while trying to psych myself up to not be my normal, aggressive self, the guy opens the door and is nothing like what I imagined. He’s white, relatively young—no older than me—looked extremely quiet and shy, and lives with an older man, who can really only be his father. The father looked more annoyed by the fact that I was up there complaining than by the fact that I had something legitimate to complain about. And the reason why I hear his every move is because he’s a 6’4” giant.
“I’m so sorry! I fell asleep with the TV on.” Really? That shit was on from 2:45 till roughly 6:10 am. If I couldn’t sleep through it, I find it hard to believe you could.
“I’m Greg, by the way.” Damn it. Not only did I have to shake his hand, but now he knows my name.
And just to make matters all the more interesting, now the idiots downstairs are being loud as hell.