Okay, so, it all started a few months back when these new neighbors moved in downstairs. At first, it was all good, you know, the usual neighborly nods and “hellos.” But then, things took a turn. The noise. Oh god, the noise.
It started with the occasional late-night party, which, okay, fine, everyone has a party now and then. I tried to be understanding. I really did. I put in earplugs, tried to drown it out with my own music, but nothing worked. It was like they were bowling down there, or maybe hosting a tap-dancing competition. At 2 AM.
Then came the stomping. Seriously, it sounded like a herd of elephants was living down there. Up and down the stairs, all day, all night. I started to wonder if they ever slept. Or if they were intentionally trying to drive me insane.
So, I tried the polite approach. I went downstairs, knocked on their door, and tried to explain the situation. I’m a pretty calm person, so I kept it chill, just asked if they could maybe try to keep it down a bit, especially at night. They seemed nice enough, apologized, said they’d try. But guess what? Nothing changed.
Next step? I wrote them a note. A nice, friendly note, just reiterating my concerns and suggesting maybe they could invest in some rugs. I slipped it under their door, feeling all hopeful. Still nothing. The stomping continued, the parties raged on, my sanity slowly slipped away.
Escalating the Situation.
I even tried talking to the building manager. Multiple times. Left voicemails, sent emails, the whole nine yards. The response? A shrug and a “we’ll look into it.” Great. Super helpful.
At this point, I was starting to lose it. I started fantasizing about all the ways I could get back at them. Okay, maybe not fantasizing, more like… seriously considering. I’m not proud of it, but sleep deprivation does strange things to a person.
Desperate time
Then someone online suggest passive-aggressively stomping on my floor(their ceilling), so I bought tap shoes and tried it, not really work, those elephants can not hear, maybe.
Finally, I decided to try one last thing. I bought a really, really loud fan. And I positioned it right against the floor, aimed directly at their apartment. And I turned it on. High. All night long. Petty? Maybe. But did it work? You bet your sweet bippy it did.
The next morning, there was a knock on my door. It was them, looking tired and defeated. They apologized, profusely. Said they hadn’t realized how loud they were being. And guess what? Things have been (mostly) quiet ever since.
So, yeah, that’s my story. Not the most graceful solution, I know, but hey, sometimes you gotta fight fire with (fan) fire. Or, you know, just drown them out with white noise until they get the * is my record for how to deal with the downstairs neighbor.
