Sunday, October 15, 2006

Next-Door Whore


Whore next door. Dr. Seuss, you old has-been. Two can play that game.

My neighbor is a hooker. A street ho. A strumpet, harlot, trollop. A tart. I finally figured it out after I saw her in black bra and tiny shorts draped around a lamppost in the Mission, an area which has not yet been gentrified. I doubt she was in the neighborhood for the discount fabric store, as I was.

But I don't hate her because of her morals. I hate her because she's a vile neighbor.

She must have been overly influenced by Barbie because in two years, I have never seen her without stiletto heels on. She even wears them at home; I know this because our apartments have hardwood floors and she constantly scampers around like a crazed flea in those things. A crazed flea who sounds like a two-legged racehorse.

Every day, she breaks the sound barrier blasting music of indeterminate genre that makes our artwork fall off walls. The bass line permeates our apartment, driving my cat to bury herself in a thick afghan and my plants to drop their leaves in distress.

It drives me to hit the wall with hard objects. Like a wife-beater who does his damage where it won't show, I do mine in closets. The walls of our large, walk-in closet resemble the craters on the moon. I've been at it a long time.

She lines up empty wine bottles by her door rather than use the garbage chute on the back stairwell. The hallway smells like a bar now.

One of her regular guests plays handball against the wall for hours. I hope she isn't doing children.

She's had three new cars in two years, and manages to hit the garage door jamb with every one of them. A few weeks ago, she used her clicker to open the garage as she exited the front door, failing to notice it was already open because another tenant was backing out. The door slammed on the other tenant's Land Rover, causing two thousand dollars in damages. The building owner had to replace the garage door, which was new.

The other tenant rented a car for two weeks while the Land Rover was in repair and her insurance premiums went up. Sleazoid Neighbor refused to reimburse her for any of it, stating that she had just purchased several properties in Arizona and didn't want to spend money on something with no return.

"Nobody got hurt," she sneered. "So what's your problem?"

This morning at 4:20, she turned on her music, loud. It blasted us from a deep sleep. We banged on the wall, but she couldn't hear us. I slipped out my door, buck-naked, and rang her bell, then dashed back to my own apartment before she could come to her door.

She didn't. The music was too loud.

I donned a long shirt and leaned on her bell. I heard her talking to a man, but she didn't answer the door. She turned the music down slightly, which was beyond insulting. A contemptuous gesture, a mere crumb dropped to lowly plebeians. Such things incense me. I banged hell out of the closet wall between our apartments. More chipped paint and lunar craters.

I fantasize about spraying the connecting wall with semi-automatic fire when I know she's home. Or distributing curare-dipped thumbtacks in front of her door. Poisonous snakes. Or maybe a black widow spider in her bed, like a low-budget Godfather without horse heads.

Most troubling of all is that I know if it came down to it, I'd probably drive her to the hospital.

What's wrong with me?

38 comments:

Lee said...

Oh I feel terrible for you. Bad neighbors are the absolute worst. Inconsideration is the worst. Maybe she'll be chopped up into small pieces by a track someday soon. Maybe I'll write her a suicide note. You can slide it under her door. ;)

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Lee,

Oh, please do. Your suicide notes are the best!! (I live for them.)

As you were saying about evil prospering...

Lex said...

You're a decent human being who, despite the myriad annoyances, knows that deep down, she is really disturbed woman who needs some help. That's what's wrong with you.

I'm sorry she's such a pain.

You are getting fiestier by the moment! I hope they deny your application for a gun permit.

Nihilistic said...

Do her Sisters live above me?? I think they do...they must be related!

mist1 said...

Sh*t. I think I'm your neighbor.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Lex,

Can I have a bazooka, then? If I promise to play with it outside?

Nihilistic,

Probably. Is this a fine city or what?

Mist,

I was sure you were prettier.

kim said...

I had a neighbor from hell just before I moved ....its crazy how much I wanted to harm her lol
Im sorry I know it sucks ... but with your new found lust for danger and near crime ...maybe we could get even a little bit ? have her power cut off or her cat shaved or something ?

Kristi said...

Dang, that sucks. You should write a letter telling her that her Arizona properties need her immediate attention. Like they're on fire or something. And then, when she leaves, actually SET FIRE to her house.

Oh no I di-int just tell you to commit arson.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Kim,

I'll see what I can do. No animals will be hurt in the maiming of Jackass, though. (I changed her name, sort of, to protect my innocence.)

Kristi,

Unfortunately, we live in a small apartment building, and fire doesn't respect boundaries too well.

But I do appreciate your loyalty.

Odat said...

That's the worst! I probably would resort to something sinister. Do you know any doctors who would write a letter informing her she has a god awful disease transmitted by one of her clients and the only cure is to move to Alaska...(or sompin).
Peace

Christina_the_wench said...

God I feel you. Some people are just rude and selfish. I don't think I will every understand them. I was raised to consider others at all times. Bad breeding in this case it seems.

Call the cops. Besides poison, it might be your only recourse.

mist1 said...

Right. Of course. I am wayyyyy prettier. But the wine bottles...still it could be me.

jali said...

hearts,
You must have been REALLY pissed to go to the door naked. sorry, mamma but indignation and boobs are kind of funny together.
Can you do battle on the stereo? Play "Achy Breaky Heart" about 1000 times in a row. Bet she'll think about being a better neighbor.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Odat,

It wouldn't surprise me if she had something. Maybe time will take care of the problem.

Christina,

I've thought of calling the cops after 10: p.m., but doubt they would be effective.

It's shocking that this is happening in such a small building, where we all know each other. It makes me have thoughts I'm not proud of.

Mist,

You're beginning to remind me of the PLO -- every time there's a bombing, they claim credit for it.

Jali,

You laughin' at my boobs, lady?

I would run screaming into the night myself if I had to listen to Achy Breaky Heart even once. There was a time when I had to turn off my car radio constantly to escape it.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Jali,

We HAVE thought about setting Flip's loudest amp against the connecting wall at ungodly hours and blasting Jimi Hendrix, but there are all those OTHER people in the city. Sigh.

katrice said...

It would be great if she came home one day to find all her stiletto heels sawed off.

Just sayin'...

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Katrice,

Or chili peppers in her personal lubricant.

Lex said...

Dang! Remind me to stay on your good side.

Bazooka outside. OK. But not on HER corner. Deal?

Maricopa Mark said...

I am *not* making this up: Last time I stayed in Oakland (I'll never do that again) my neighbor was a woman of ill repute. Not that I cared so much at first but by the second night I figured out that when she was calling for her cat (I'm still not making this up) she was in fact calling to her John for another suitor.

Never stay on Oakland -- that's my new motto.

Michael C said...

You are a good person and should be commended, that what's wrong with you ;-)

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Reminder to Lex:

Stay on Heart's good side.

Mark,

"Calling for her cat." You do have a way with words.

Michael,

Commendations are nice. A different neighbor would be nicer. :)

Pickled Olives said...

hmmm, maybe you should play loud music at 11am. That's probably when she tries to sleep. Or better yet, drill holes into her apt/condo through the adjoining walls, Tape her doing the nasty and sell it on ebay! At least make a few dollars for your inconvenience. :o)

Island Spice said...

Call the police. Its a nice anonymous way to give her a clue. And no more naked rage!

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Olives,

I've pretty much drilled holes through the wall with various hard objects, trying to get her attention and vent my frustration. But you HAVE given me an idea -- Maybe I can sell HER on EBay. I'll advertise her um, CAT. (See Mark.)

Spice,

Tried it. The police came to our door first, then marched over to hers, a few feet away, to inform her of my complaint. Very anonymous. And she got worse afterward.

mist1 said...

I have never been compared to the PLO before. I'm not sure that I'm proud of myself.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Which proves you're not the neighbor lady, Mist. She wouldn't know who they were.

urban-urchin said...

How about next time she has a ehn visitor in the wee hours- calling the cops. Also the building owner might be interested in finding out his tenant is engaged in illegal activities in his building. I believe it's grounds for eviction even in the very tennant secure land of SF.

The woman sounds VILE. In the meantime- put on your Doc Martins and pound on her door. Bitch.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Urchin,

I'm sure you're right. Believe me, I've considered this. BUT I don't think she's plying her trade on-site if she's hanging around the Mission. And our landlord doesn't care where she gets her money as long as she pays the rent.

One of us will move sooner or later. Oh, happy day!

Old Scrote said...

You have my sympathy. After many years of peace and quiet, new neighbours moved in next door, and they proved to be the ones from hell: noise, smells and all kinds of selfishness. As there is apparently a law against killing people like this, we ended up quite literally selling our house and moving to a different neighbourhood.
I love your blog btw, and pinched your book idea for mine!
Jake

heartinsanfrancisco said...

O. Scrote, I mean Jake,

We did the same thing. We moved clear across the country, in fact, and never regretted it.

You pinched my idea how? Are you writing a memoir, too? I'd love to read it.

Anonymous said...

She wears stiletto heels on hardwood floors? What a sicko.

Crankster said...

I think you missed a few names: mattressback, roundheels, woman of easy virtue...

Some possibilities you may not have considered--penny lock her door, replace her mailbox label with "Whore," buy a few packets of grape Kool-aid mix (the kind without the sugar) and sprinkle them in front of her door, put an ad in the newspaper advertising discount sexual services...

Crankster said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
heartinsanfrancisco said...

Crankster,

Also lady of the night.

What does the grape Kool-aid w/o sugar do? Jonestown comes to mind, a good start. I'll put cyanide and Valium on my shopping list, too.

Thanks for your visit. I enjoyed your blog and will be back.

Crankster said...

The Kool-Aid without sugar will stick to her shoes and leave almost-unwashable purple smears everywhere she steps. Perhaps not the best attack, but it seemed appropriate somehow.

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Louie, this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

If only I were karma-proof.

PARLANCHEQ said...

My upstairs neighbors are replicas of your neighbor (except for the prostitute part, I think, because they are a couple). I try to be tolerant when they blast their crappy music all day, but I start to lose my patience after midnight. Grr...

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Parlancheq,

Maybe they're a couple of prostitutes. Never make assumptions.

Being force-fed someone else's loud music at all hours really destroys the quality of life. Unfortunately, people who are so inconsiderate are usually unwilling to adjust their maddening behaviors.

I wish we could put our respective neighbors on a leaky raft, set them adrift and lob hand grenades at them. I'll bring the kindling for our campfire.

(And yes, she's doing it NOW. How did you guess?)