When living in the city, the illusion of privacy is precarious indeed. I am used to waking up to the sounds of garbage trucks rattling the walls of my apartment. I look forward to opening the windows and smelling garlic frying at the Thai restaurant next door. This morning, I groaned when I heard the distant chanting of a protest in front of the Scientology building. But in spite of the constant reminders of the proximity of others, I always felt like this space was my own, a private sanctuary. I never see my neighbors, I have my TV on at ungodly hours of the night, and I still can’t get used to pulling the blinds closed when I change.
Alas, all dreams must end sometime. We got a knock on the door at midnight last night from the downstairs neighbor asking us to “not walk so loudly.” For historical record, we were not rehearsing our Riverdance routine. Just the kind of normal occasional walking two very sedentary people do. Barefoot. And yet, there she was, at our door, asking us to not “walk on our heels.”
It was a rude awakening. We spent the next hour tiptoeing around gingerly and whispering to each other, wondering what else our neighbors can hear.
I need a vacation.
2 comments:
I too have been asked not to walk so loudly. in my neighbors' defense, however, i may actually have been practicing MY riverdance routine (which is quite good, if i do say so myself). at 3 AM.
you heel-walking no good so-and-sos!
I'm surprised the lady came upstairs. I sometimes lament my upstairs neighbors walking (and seriously, in my last apartment, I think the guys upstairs were ACTUAL DRAG QUEENS, actually rehearsing routines), but I never go confront them about it...it's part of city living!
Post a Comment