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Friday, January 8, 2010

I’ve Decided Which Tenant To Kill First

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Friday, the day in which we ask ourselves “Is it too late to marry well and quit our jobs?”

And the answer to that?

"Yes, I’m sorry. It is too late."

But never mind that.

In keeping with tradition around here, let us consult the songs on my iPod from this morning’s commute to determine the direction of our weekend, shall we?

Heart Attack and Vine by Tom Waits
Watch The Tapes by LCD Soundsystem
Ramble On by Led Zeppelin
Mind’s Eye by Wolfmother
Idioteque by Radiohead
Adderall by The Hold Steady
Ballroom Blitz by Sweet

You heard it here first, folks. I suggest we buy a case of beer apiece and meet in the park, hunker down ‘til the cops come.

Speaking of which, when you’ve heard that I am facing felony charges regarding having stuffed a small flat-screen TV down the throats of the downstairs’ renters, weep not.

I did it and I meant to do it.

This is not a cry for help.

Many of you know that Willie Throckmorton the III and I are landlords in Minneapolis. We live on the second floor of a three-story, 107-year-old house. We have a friend staying on the third floor and have three tenants on the first floor.

The first-floor tenants are delightful. Late 20s, early 30s, single, eclectic. They have lots of friends, are easygoing, and generally pay their rent on time.

They are also, apparently, deaf.

And so it was that I awoke not long past midnight to the movie they were apparently watching. I will never know, of course, nor do I care, what the movie was; but whatever it was, it would quiet down long enough to pacify one back to sleep, just in time for the BOOM of the explosions lurking just around the corner.

Must’ve been a love story.

But why? Why do the tenants deprive me of sleep? Why do they hate me?

Is it the violent orange we allowed the previous tenant to paint the bathroom? Is that it?

Normally, I like to punish unruly tenants by creeping around the outside of the house dressed in naught but a pair of tube socks and yelling into their kitchen in high school French.

Scares ‘em into complacency.

Alas, everyone’s sensitive these days. It’s all “she violated my right to not be visually assaulted” and “”I can no longer enter the kitchen without flashbacks”.

Pssssh.

So we will, of course, have the obligatory Come To Jesus meeting in which I tell them how poorly I operate on four hours of sleep and how much it would pain me to point out the Peaceful Enjoyment Clause in their lease and kick their excitable butts out into the snow.

That oughta do it.

It better do it.

It’s far too cold for the tube-sock trick.

33 comments:

ellen abbott said...

Down here you would have been prancing around in tube socks with a shotgun. Try it. You'd be surprised how agreeable people can get.

De Campo said...

Interesting.

I’ve always regarded being stalked by a woman dressed naught but a pair of tube socks yelling French a reward.

mapstew said...

Our neighbours used to be noisy.

I started having band rehearsals in my house.

My neighbours used to be noisy!

xxx

Carol said...

I don't miss the days of renting! Can't imagine being a landlord.

Ward lived in a 4 plex townhouse style thing and was the middle unit. Between the dogs on one side barking at all hours and the punk ass kids on the other side who would come home from the bar and play "Throw Sally on the bed on the count of 3" and the headboard slams into the wall while hearing her scream in delight "Do it again".... needless to say, I found him a nice little quiet place to live that was closer to me!

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Visual assault vs performance art, it all depends on the placement of the tube socks.

....Petty Witter said...

Oh how I wish we could hunker down in the park but as it's -4 here in the North East of England it really wouldn't be advisable.
My sympathy re. the noisy neighbours - our's have 3 kids but they aren't the problem. A power tools salesman, the father must have every tool possible and seems to feel the need to use them come 10ish every night.

Jayne Martin said...

I was once the manager of an apartment building. Worst thing was having some drunk tenant pound on my door in the middle of the night because they'd lost their keys. I feel your pain...

Missy said...

I am ready to hunker down!
Thanks for stopping by! LOVE your blog!

Green-Eyed Momster said...

Can you move up to the top floor? Yikes! I would have called the police, and reported them for disturbing the peace, but that's just me. I don't do well with renters but I'm happy to say that I never had to resort to killing any of them! Ha ha ha! No, seriously... I need like, at least 8 hours of sleep and I think 10 hours of sleep is the perfect amount to handle just about anything! Good luck!

Hugs!!

ladyfi said...

LOL! I do hate noisy neighbours... must remember the tube sock trick! ;-)

justsomethoughts... said...

when i first saw the title i thought it was me
oh thank heavens.

do what you must.
i'm in with two six packs
i cant do a case
i'm not the youngster i once was :)

Molly Potter said...

Work is actually about keeping people off the streets because I for one would be out mugging. (This is actually an irritating catchphrase of mine used to muster up motivation when people are floundering). If I married well I am sure I'd fall into mugging ways with all that free time.

I am not sure what the upper age for being a mugger is. I am also not sure I would make a very convincing mugger anyway as I am only 5ft 2 with, most days, clothing on inside out and back to front creating an unthreatening air of incompetence.

Molly Potter said...

There I go again...I actually got my own catchphrase wrong..it wouldn't motivate like I wrote it there.
You look in the eye of the deflated colleague and say....

It keeps us off the streets which is good because I for one would be out mugging.

..try it...you'll be amazed at increased productivity

Lori E said...

Have you seen Duplex with Drew Barrymore and Ben Stiller? More than a few good tips in there.

The mad woman behind the blog said...

I didn't know you lived above us?

The hubs got his amp working after 4 years and just HAD to check it out. Apologies are being sent out as I type.

Though if you want to come around with tube sock trick, I promise not to share the pictures.

My name is PJ. said...

Tube socks.
Visual assault.
High school French.
Flashbacks.

You left out the temperature and time for cooking, but I'm thinking some people might really enjoy this!

Greenfingers said...

Another inspired choice of sounds Pearl. Your a Radiohead fan to..nice!
And a new cd from LCD soundsystem coming this year as well!

Jeanne said...

The guy across the street from us is a cement contractor, and loves to rev up his Bobcats late at night. Hard to say much, though -- he brought them over when we landscaped, and again when we put up our fence.

CatLadyLarew said...

I have a tenant just like that. Unfortunately he's my kid, so it's a little harder to get rid of him.

Little Ms Blogger said...

It could be worse. I used live in an apartment building where I'd hear the tenant above me every time they'd have sex....it was usually at 2:00 a.m..

However, I think your tenants would appreciate your original idea :-)

mrwriteon said...

May it all be resolved with a minimum of bloodshot, though my personal vote goes in the direction of the naked tubesox presentation, but that's just me.

mrwriteon said...

That was meant to read 'bloodshed'. I have no idea what bloodshot means except for my eyes sometimes, nor do I want to.

savannah said...

i'll never complain about miss daisy shuffling around the house humming in her mind numbing off tune way again, sugar! xooxo

Douglas said...

A joy to read. You are truly the Mistress of Mirth (and, possibly, tube socks). The images will stay in my head forever. I will likely forget the French since I don't know that language at all.

I was once a renter (weren't we all, at some time or other). I lived for a time, during that time, on one half of the second floor of a house owned by Mrs Badger (yes, that was her name). I had a roommate for awhile too. We had a stereo, mine, and lots and lots of albums... rock and roll, heavy blues, weird comedy. And we would play these late into the night and early hours of the morning sometimes until Mrs Badger would turn off all the electricity and then we would get quiet. That woman knew the art of subtle hinting.

I should write about that apartment and the adventures I had there but I might have to be a bit careful about the statute of limitations...

Lana Banana said...

oh, pearl . . . tube socks are for hanging on doors, darlin', NOT for scaring folks.

if you really want to scare some people, you do it the latino way: you get really drunk (or at least pretend to be), you load your shotgun (every girl should have one), you fire a few rally shots into the air, then, wearing your finest wife beater (they're not just for boys anymore, y'know), you take the butt end of the gun and break a few of their car windows.

that's how it's done. take it from me, i'm latina.

Laoch of Chicago said...

Hopefully they are striped tube socks?

lisleman said...

wow the tube socks trick sounds great - any chance you could switch to Italian instead.

Pat said...

It's our Pearl anniverary year so thank you for dropping by.

Pat said...

Anniversary. Old glasses because the nose pad has dropped off my # 1 pair.

The Jules said...

I think you should be allowed to charge extra everytime you have to resort to naked tube sock francophonics, because it's the only way these sorts learn you know.

sage said...

Peaceful Enjoyment Clause! I like it.

Brian Miller said...

lol. this was awesome!

hope you get some sleep...smiles.

Michael said...

Hello, came here from Douglas' blog.

I've always hated noisy neighbours, ones with kids or dogs or motorbikes... drove me crazy. And now I'm at university, drunken people yelling, music playing in other rooms, sex noises at 4am, argh!

Michael.
Do you hate it too?
"If you're going through Hell, keep going."