I have meese

I got a new neighbor upstairs from me in September or so. Younger guy, late 20's (Crap, I'm calling people in their late 20's "younger", next I'll be adding "whipper snapper" to that), has two kids that visit ages 8 and 10 maybe.

I have spent numerous hours at my neighbor's and have heard nothing more than a few squeaks from the unit above them. I have talked to neighbors asking if they can hear the people upstairs. "oh, a few squeaks once in a while".

I have only one conclusion to come to: The guy upstairs from me is part moose. He is in constant motion. I swear he's pacing at high speed. Every time he uses the bathroom he lets the toilet seat slam. It sounds like he's in MY bathroom. Both fortunately and unfortunately I try not to complain. However, I know this is beyond the "norm" when it comes to community living.

Here's a typical evening: He comes in the door stomping off... what? He's been in his car, gets out in the underground garage, walks through the building onto an elevator to the third floor. What could he be stomping off? Then it's heavy walking to the bedroom, to the bathroom (BANG) to the kitchen (SLAM) to the living room and around and around boom-boom-boom and thump and stomp and thud and pound and slam... This will go on for hours. An occasional thump will cause a picture on my wall to shutter. What the frick is going on up there? What is he so busy doing? Can I tell him to just sit down, take a break? Then his kids come over and there are THREE moosies up there, each one taking turns making the rounds.

This past Sunday there was some little kid (I'd imagine it's a baby moose) tearing around making more noise than all of them combined. How can little feet be so heavy? My next door neighbor called me and asked me what was going on, did I hear all that noise? Uh, yeah, I'm watching my ceiling about to cave in. If I had a chandelier the thing would be shaking and swinging.

I was mad and I knew I had to talk to him, let him know there are no moose, mooses or meese allowed. But because I was so mad and frustrated I was afraid I'd say some mean horrible things and then stomp on his feet so he'd be laid up for the next month mending the broken bones. hmmmm....

It took two days and countless drafts of writing a little note to leave if he didn't answer his door. Monday night at about 9 pm I took a deep breath and walked upstairs, note in hand with a little piece of tape for if I needed to leave it. I almost pooped myself as I raised my hand to gently knock. Ohmygod, ohmygod it's too late now. What am I going to do if he answers? I should have brought a paper bag in case I start to hyperventilate. He didn't answer and I got to get away with just leaving the note.

In the note I explained in just a few sentences that his heavy walking, thumping and stomping was disruptive and very loud. I asked him to please be more aware and quiet since the floors/ceilings aren't sound proof. Short and sweet - I hope.

I woke up that night at about 12:30 - 1 from little squeaks in the floor above me but no thumps. Fingers crossed that it becomes the new norm!