Landlords, tenant disputes and happy mediums
Lessons learned on the condo board that I wish I’d have known as a tenant
I wanted nothing more than for this couple to move out. After living in this apartment for six years without any major disruptions and loving life, in year seven, a couple moved in who blasted music at top volume and smoked weed all day long. Call me a prude, but I didn’t want my apartment to smell like marijuana 24/7. The property managers got the first couple to move to a different floor, only for the second couple — new parents — to move in. Within a month’s time of year eight, I pined for the days of contact high from the second floor.
The conflict with the second couple started off small. I noticed the husband and another guy dragging a treadmill up the second-floor steps but didn’t connect that they were going into the unit above me. It wasn’t until I heard what sounded like Barnum & Bailey Circus above my bedroom at 8:30 a.m. that I realized these second-floor tenants thought having a treadmill was a good idea. After a little under a month, I printed out treadmill silencing mats and slid it under their door. It was passive aggressive but hopefully effective.
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Her husband came downstairs and asked me did the ad come from me. I nodded. He apologized, saying he didn’t think I could hear their treadmill upstairs. I smiled politely while thinking of how delusional someone could be to not have heard the loud thumping of a treadmill in every single gym in all of the United States of America and beyond. There is no such thing as a quiet treadmill. If you ever want to see someone ruin their “shanti,” try scheduling a yoga class at the same time as a treadmill running class; you’ll never see a yoga instructor lose her shit faster and throw in a couple of “namastes” while cursing out the people upstairs.
While I found that to be extremely annoying, it got worse when I found out that this new couple only seemed to like to argue between 4 a.m. to 5 a.m. She would come in yelling. He would scream at her. Then all of a sudden I’d hear something that sounded like bricks or wood go crashing to the floor. The first time I heard this, I wish I knew where the first couple ended up so I could go borrow some of their weed, wholeheartedly apologize and beg them to switch places.
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I thought this was the worst of it (after several early-morning arguments and running sessions) until one day I heard the woman let out a blood-curling scream, heard him unleash a list of insults at her, something came crashing to the floor and then some kind of pop sound. As irritating as Treadmill Lady was, I jumped up in bed, wondering, “Did he just hit her?” I reached for the phone when I heard her crying and called the police, reporting the incident above.