Living in a dump

Yes, blog reader. I am poor. Not the homeless kind or the welfare kind but just the lower middle class kind. I am living in a dumpy apartment with my beautiful gf adjacent to the massive 405 freeway, a never ending sound of engines, dust and exhaust. Despite the 20 foot sound wall, the noise of one or two million engines wheezing north and south is a constant reminder that any dwelling next to the freeway will always attract poor people who are often poor in neighborly relations.

On Sunday morning at 8am, my neighbor, call him Rudy, decides to warm up his 25 year old rust bucket Toyota pick up-- For ten freakin minutes. The sound of the struggling engine and its gaseous exhaust wafers into my bedroom. Ah, reader. Nothing like the sound and smell of an engine to wake me up from a pleasant sleep. I was ready to revel in its odoriferous breeze but I had to pee instead. Later that week I left him a nice note under his shitty wiper blade telling him to quit it. Would this type of behavior happen in the mountainous upscale homes of Bel Air? No.

The "whistler" of apartment 12 is another quaint feature among my neighbor brethren. He has a distinct whistle that he uses to call his friend as he approaches the building. Once inside the apt of his friend, the whistling continues almost like a nervous tick. Do you know anyone who has a facial tick? You watch it and the person knows you are watching it which makes him tick more! Now imagine hearing your neighbor whistle like that and you'll understand how I feel.

Next on the list of living in a certified dump, is the 2am floor "squeaker" from the neighbor above. Since the apt building does not have carpeting, which is good for the asthmatics who live next to the freeway, these old wooden floors creek and squeak like mother fers. Enough to wake me and my gf up. Last month I wrote the "squeaker" a note to stop yakking on the phone at 1am above our bedroom. It wouldn't be so bad if he would stop talking and whining like a little girl. Maybe I am doing that now in this blog?

It seems that being poor is one of the distinct qualities that allow people to be inconsiderate and not thoughtful to others. Of course you can say that the white collar rich are stealing from the poor but that's another blog entry.

The other day someone dropped a SD memory chip on the ground. I found it and placed a note above the mail boxes. No one claimed it. How can you not notice your device memory gone? Do you not read, neighbors? How can you be so complacent and passive about a $45 memory chip with your pictures or music on it? If it was me, I would call.

Last month I found a Motorola Razr cell phone in the alley. It was in a nice carry case. It was used but in okay condition. I open their contact list and last calls dialed and received. I noticed a lot of east coast area codes. Since it was about 8pm PST, I called and left a voice mail with someone explaining how I found the phone and where I found it. It took about three days for the person who lost the phone to finally retrieve it. And he lived in my building!! WTF? If I lost my phone, which I have, I would be one anxious mother fer! What is wrong with my neighbors?

As usual you get an interesting and somewhat eclectic mix of people who have different schedules and lifestyles. I don't think that is very interesting. In fact, it's disruptive. I like my building and neighbors to be quiet, clean and considerate. I don't want to hear people talking loudly, or their TVs barking, seeing their dumb pets pooing, having their children play near my apt, smell their exhaust smoke, having their friends wiping their feet on my door mat, the oily smell of their funky foods nor to have them act like they don't know who I am or nod or say hello in passing.