Confirmed: The Downstairs Neighbor Has A Face

There has been some discussion regarding our Downstairs Neighbor. He's rather mysterious in that he's barely ever there, he often gets delinquent rent notices stuck to his door (I know this because I read them), has a very dirty balcony, and we've never actually seen him.

Until tonight.

We thought he was back because we'd suddenly been smelling this obnoxious, faint cigarette smoke coming up through our kitchen vents.

"Seems like Downstairs Neighbor might be around," Joey commented.

I concurred. We're not sure he smokes, but we know our other neighbors and they don't smoke, so if we smell it we always blame it on Downstairs Neighbor.

But back to the previous discussions regarding Downstairs Neighbor's face.

We've lived here for six months. (Yes, six months!) All we were able to ascertain about Downstairs Neighbor was that he has never fully shut the blinds in his bedroom (a table is leaned up against the window covering the portion that's not covered by blinds; he probably has no clue they're not all the way down) and he might have a cat.

I once saw him carrying what appeared to be a cat kennel as he walked away from his apartment. It was then that I first began to question his sanity.

Since the sighting with the cat, we have only seen the back of his head one other time leading us to wonder if he actually has a face.

Joey and I were headed out to buy milk tonight (yes, we forgot it when we went grocery shopping) and as we were walking to the car a youngish sort of man wearing a baseball cap, green t-shirt and geeky/trendy Coke-bottle style glasses was walking towards us. Oh, he was also carrying a Pepsi and a Mountain Dew. (They were 20 ounces and no, I'm not nosy...)

I instantly (and, regrettably, not so subtly) began smacking Joey's arm and hissing at him. "That's him! I bet that's him!"

He sort of shoved his elbow into me to indicate for me to Be Quiet.

We rounded the corner, but not before I had slowed down and looked back to make sure this guy really was Downstairs Neighbor.

"That was him!" I exulted. "I saw him!"

"Yeah," said Joey, "I couldn't understand what you were saying."

"That's OK." I said, hoping that if Joey hadn't understood me then neither had Downstairs Neighbor.

So, regardless of all former doubts and concerns about Downstairs Neighbor, we have confirmed that he exists and he actually has a face.

Whew.

"That's him! I bet that's him!"

Reasons Why I'm Glad I'm Not Our Downstairs Neighbor

1. Joey chases Henry around the floor by galloping on his hands and knees and makes a big raucous doing it. He probably sounds like some kind of elephant or other large beast to someone down below.

2. I very regularly throw things off the balcony (such as large tree branches that Joey cut off, ash from cleaning the fireplace, etc...) and try to miss their balcony, but I can't always be sure.

3. When I sweep my balcony every day, it winds up in the neighbors balcony down below. I used to feel bad about this until I leaned over mine enough to see in theirs and discovered that, while there's a really large and noticeable line of junk I've swept down (leaves, Henry's fur, Joey's hair, etc...) the neighbors haven't done anything about it. They also have overturned Rubbermaid containers out there so I'm not sure they even go on their balcony.

When considering our downstairs neighbors, though, one must realize several things:

• We have never actually seen the neighbor's face so we're not entirely sure he has one. I did, however, see him carrying a cat in a cat carrier. So we (mostly I) figure he's insane.

• He's behind on his rent a lot. I know this from sneaking over and reading the delinquent notices that the landlords post on his door. (All of you who are shushing me right now, stop it. You'd do it too.) They're sometimes there for several days before he takes them down.

• He's got something in front of his bedroom window that looks vaguely like a headboard. Why someone would put a headboard in front of a window is beyond me. (Another reason why we--mostly I--think he's insane.) Unless, of course, it's to prevent armed robbery or something, in which case I'd just rather put a steel plate in front of my window. Or get a raging pit bull or something. But I'd never sleep in front of the window like that.

So, for many reasons, I'm glad I'm not my downstairs neighbor. He seems real nuts.

Rabid Squirrels and Bird Poo

Perhaps some of you may recall the previous post in which I bemoaned our neighbors multitude of bird feeders. For some weeks now no birds have discovered the feeders.

Until last week.

There's this Stupid Squirrel that lives in the tree that covers both our balcony and the front stairs. He used to sneak on our balcony and look at me with his beady little black eyes, but I got Joey to saw off the branch of the tree that was hanging over our balcony (not sure if that's really allowed, but he did a very nice job of it) and the Stupid Squirrel hasn't bothered me since.

Until, as I said, last week.

Stupid Squirrel found the bird feeders. And he delights in eating any and all the seed in them and he does this pretty much all the time.

Every time I go up the stairs toward our door Stupid Squirrel and I have this uncomfortable face-off.

He dodges one way, I go the other. He jumps nervously about from railing to railing (I'm always afraid I'm going to get bit in the crossfire) and tries to get off the front balcony before I get there.

Thus far he usually just dive bombs for the ground at an extremely painful looking speed. The "splat" noise he makes when he lands is kind of satisfying, but I do feel sort of sorry for him.

Aside from Stupid Squirrel freaking me out every time I go up my stairs, there's a plethora of bird poo covering the railings and sidwalk below.

Not to mention all the seed that Stupid Squirrel spilled when he was decimating the bird feeder.

I think Stupid Squirrel sits on St. Birdfeeder's head and eats the seed out of his little seed bowl because the amount of seed that's been thrown everywhere is just appalling. He has little regard for the starving squirrels in the Mojave Desert or wherever.

And, thus, I am looking forward to our neighbors bird seed being eaten. I am afraid of this rabid Stupid Squirrel who looks as though he's going to bite me for invading "his" territory, and I'm quite finished with all this bird poo.

And yet I know I must "dwell together in unity", so I'm thinking of having someone come steal the neighbors bird feeders so that we can be unified in not having any.

Seems like a good idea to me.

If I get rabies from this squirrel and wind up in the hospital, I expect a lot of flowers from those of you who read this blog and never comment.

Serious Bird-Feederage

The neighbors are kind of eco and animal friendly. While this is not entirely bad, I am slightly concerned about the THREE bird feeders we now have on our stairways. (This does not count the bird feeders that are located on their personal balcony.)

The bird feeders began appearing this weekend.

First it was just the pathetic "tree" with no sign of leaves or buds that appeared in the corner by their door. I thought this was sadly amusing and decided to watch it carefully to see if it ever budded.

My hopes aren't real high.

Then, the next day, St. Birdfeeder appeared next to the dead tree.

"Hey, Joey, there's an old-timey guy statue outside, and he's holding birdseed. That's kind of cute." I said.

"Oh, that's St. Somebodyorother," Joey replied. "Patron saint of animals." (Joey now reminds me that it's St. Francis of Assisi but, then, I was never Catholic so I know nothing about these things. Including how to properly spell their names.)

Now you have seen Pathetic Tree and St. Birdfeeder.

This was all well and good until another bird feeder arrived the next day. (They were seriously multiplying! I am rather concerned.)

This one's right next to their door.
"We're going to get mobbed by crows," I muttered as I took Henry outside the day after it appeared. It was then that I noticed the THIRD bird feeder hanging from the railing.

"HOLY BIRD FEEDERS!" I thought. I was growing concerned that I needed an umbrella in case all the birds decided to relieve themselves on me. (That happened when I went to Iowa State, the crows would poo as you walked on the paths under the trees. Sounded like really disgusting rain and it always made me really nervous.)

Thus far, the bird feeder count outside our door is holding steady at 3. We are going away this weekend and if there are any more bird feeders when I come back, I'm probably going to buy a scarecrow.