Dear Gay Guy Who Lives Upstairs,
It’s with much regret that I must inform you that you are not an owl. I’m sure this will come as some surprise to you. After all, you seem to spend the majority of your time hooting loudly. Still, from what I have seen, you don’t possess wings or feathers, so I assume you could try to spend a little less time shrieking.
It saddens me that the only way I can describe you is as “gay.” I don’t wish to make this about your sexuality. In fact, I don’t even really know if you’re gay. I’m just guessing. Maybe it’s the fact I’ve listened to you singing Disney songs at the top of your feminine lungs every day for the last 6 months. Or possibly because I can hear your high-heels stomping across my ceiling.
I wish I could say you were the only one I need to speak to, but there’s also Heterosexual Guy Whose Bedroom Is Above Mine. Tell him I take great pleasure in waking up at 2am on weeknights to hear him having sex with his girlfriend. His meticulous pounding rocks my ceiling so hard that often I’m positive another large earthquake has hit New Zealand. But alas, I think an earthquake may last a little longer and possibly do a better job at pleasing his girlfriend. She’s obviously faking it.
Still, he’s not nearly as bad that girl living with you, Girl Who Talks Loudly. Tell her she doesn’t need to shout. I can hear her, and I don’t even live in the same house!
I eagerly await her waking me up every Saturday morning as she walks by my bedroom window with her friends. Really, who doesn’t want to get woken at 4am every weekend? I should feel grateful.
Tell her that although I acted politely, I really didn’t enjoy the time when she came home in a drunken stupor cracking her head open on the stairs outside. I appreciate it was an emergency, a genuine reason to wake me. But I wasn’t too fond of standing in the rain waiting for her ambulance for 45 minutes.
But I’m glad it happened, because it proved to you all that somebody lives below you. A friendly neighbour you can count on when you’re too drunk to ring the emergency services.
I guess you soon forgot about my existence because every night since then you’ve decided nobody would be bothered by your blaring of music late into the night.
If I said it wasn’t all about the noise, I’d be lying. Thank you for your ever present need to rearrange furniture at midnight. It must really move the dust around. Maybe you should wait a few hours until you vacuum? Oh, you already do! Sorry for the suggestion.
I wish you all luck in your endeavour to become professional basketball players. Jumping around, bouncing any object in sight on your floor. It doesn’t anger me at all. I don’t fall asleep some nights fantasising about punching you all in the face. That would be crazy!
I’m also impressed by your determination to workout each day. I can appreciate how hard it must be for you to jump up and down as much as you do. Especially on those tough hardwood floors. It must really hurt your knees.
Although I have loved living beneath you, I’m sorry to say I’ll be moving out soon. Maybe you can have a house party until 3 in the morning to celebrate?
Best wishes and warm regards,
Your friendly neighbour.
House photo by Geof Wilson