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A Letter To My Upstairs Neighbors

I would like to start off by saying I can hear you not wash you hands at 3 in the morning when you get up to pee. Like, really? That’s pretty nasty, bro. 

Aside from that, when I was assigned my apartment number, I was hoping and praying that it would be on the top floor of the apartment complex. I’ve stayed in too many hotel rooms where the footsteps coming from the room above me would keep me up at all hours of the night. Unfortunately, my roommates and I were not assigned to an apartment on the top floor. 

We moved in during the middle of the summer, whereas you guys wouldn’t be moving in until mid-August. The days that your apartment was unoccupied were among the most peaceful days I’ve had. But when I was woken up at 8 a.m. to the wretched sound of a hammer and feet stomping coming from above me on that sunny August morning, I knew life in my apartment would never be the same. 

I’m convinced that I’ll never know when an actual earthquake is occurring because you guys play tackle football or something 24/7 and our walls never stop shaking. It’s a magnitude 2.5 everyday in my pad. And why do all of you walk as if you have 50 pound weights attached to your ankles!? It’s like King Kong and his family are living above me. I’ve become so immune to the stomping that when I have friends come over, they question if our vibrating ceiling is normal and I have to stop to think about what they’re referring to. 

And can I just ask why it sounds like you are dropping bowling balls on your floor at 4 a.m. on a Tuesday? Do you ever sleep? Or do you just live to annoy me? Don’t even get me started on your choice of party music. Everyone knows the throwbacks are where it’s at. 

Anyway, I guess that's enough complaining for now. 


Your confused, irritated, and slightly grossed-out downstairs neighbor

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