Oh Snap!

I signed a lease yesterday at The Villas on Guadalupe, a co-op that I found through Ross at Uptown Realty in Austin. It seemed to be a big step up from the Jefferson West apartment I very nearly leased. Sure, this place could end up being a paper-walled 24/7 toga party nightmare, but irregardless it provides the three things I wanted: walking distance to UT, garage parking for my car, and an upgraded kitchen. Also, I'll only have one roommate as opposed to the five I was expecting at Jefferson West, which is a relief.

And speaking of living with people in apartments, I had a little episode the other day with the guy who lives above me at Woodmeade. I was warned by my roommate and apartment management when I moved in that this guy could be a difficult neighbor, but I haven't had any problems with him save one - he gets pissed off when I play my stereo and starts stomping on the floor until I turn it down. This might be understandable if I played music really loud at inappropriate times, but this is not the case. Apparently he doesn't get that we live in an apartment complex, and yes you can hear my stereo just like I can hear you humping your wife or your pillow or whatever the hell you're doing up there at night.

Anyways, the first real incident with this guy happened on a Saturday afternoon. I was listening to KVET (best country station ever) on my stereo at reasonable volume, nowhere near 'party' volume. The guy upstairs starts stomping around and then calls my roommate (not sure why she ever gave him her phone number), who then asks me to turn it down to appease this A-hole. So I go up to his apartment to have a nice, civilized conversation, and the guy won't answer the door! What a pansy.

After that I just didn't bother worrying about it, and turned it down low each time he started his douche marching. But the other night I got pissed. It was around 8:45 Saturday night, and I was listening to my stereo while making dinner. Here comes this jackass stomping around above me, but this time I just ignore him and don't turn it down. He continues stomping, until my roommate comes out and wants me to turn it down, not because it's bothering her but because she doesn't want a confrontation with the guy upstairs. Guess what? I got confrontational.

Not sure exactly when it happened, but sometime throughout my six years in the military I changed from an almost pathetically passive person to a guy who will seriously SNAP. And snap I did. I won't get into the details, but suffice it to say that my hand still hurts from 'knocking' on this guy's door. I yelled, I cussed, I threatened. Thank goodness he never opened the door, because I'm not sure what I would have done.

In retrospect I wish I hadn't acted so crazy, and in fact it is quite disturbing. Didn't really know I was like that... I'll probably apologize to the guy the day I move out, but until then I bet he thinks twice about stomping on the floor, lol!