I love our apartment building. The rent is pretty good. We’ve got a nice balcony. There’s a full laundry room with brand new machines and dryers that actually work. There’s a party room we can book if we need lots of space. We’ve got a swimming pool. And for the most part, we’ve got good neighbours. They’re either friendly or they stay out of your way, which is perfect. But among those neighbours are some folks that I, in a fit of rage, once dubbed the chode harmonicas among other things.
Lately these harmonicas seem determined to upgrade from simple mouth organs into a full on symphony orchestra of dangerous retardity.
About a month or so ago, Carin and I noticed a strange smell in the hall. It kind of smelled like something might be on fire. Oh no, we thought, we’ve been down this road before. It sucked, and we’d rather not go down it again, please and thanks. We called the building managers, and after quite a bit of investigating, they determined the cause. Turns out that some cunt kazoo decided to channel his inner camp fire enthusiast and roast a few marshmallows in the stairwell. Yeah, we were all sick of winter, but that’s taking it a touch too far, methinks.
And then there’s today. Carin is out with a friend. I’m enjoying a beer and the Jays in the sun. I step in to use the bathroom. And then I hear it. the ring of the fire alarm. I finish up and grab the few things I’ll want to take outside with me. Wallet, cellphone, keys, cane. Then my phone rings. Our neighbour is outside. She tells me that there’s no fire, so I decide to stay up here. I’ve got this weird thing with my bad foot where when the weather gets hot it hurts like a son of a bitch, so I didn’t much feel like taking it down 6 floors worth of stairs for no reason. There’s the elevator, but who knows if it’s working with the alarm going off.
Time passes. I continue to enjoy the day as the bell rings in the background and the Jays continue to lose. Then my phone rings again. Same neighbour.
“We’re all back inside now,” she says. “Found out why the alarm went off. One of the firefighters told me that somebody lit a firecracker in either the hall or the stairwell on your floor.”
A firecracker? Seriously? Who does that? Ok, who other than a complete spank cookie?
One of these days they’re going to kill us all if left unchecked, I just know it. And just because that’s how it always works, they’ll be the only ones left standing when it’s all said and done.