For Being Allowed to Bitch

Saw the building’s super around noon today regarding Dr. Snake Oil Salesman and he’s promised to call the landlord immediately. I asked the super to seek confirmation that the landlord sent Dr. SOS that first letter, and insisted that he be issued another one shortly. As far as the super is concerned, this is already my third formal complaint to him, although those from the landlord to the tenant are the ones that really count.

By the way, at 3:00 am last night, that loud squeaking sound went on for about 15 or 20 minutes or so. The odd thing is that it also sounds like someone sawing, which brings me to wonder if the noise is from some kind of exercise machine rather than bedsprings straining due to someone’s copulation or masturbation. But even if it is an exercise machine — in fact, perhaps moreso if it is — I hardly think it’s acceptable to be that noisy at 3:00 am in a wood-framed apartment building, let alone being so blissfully unaware of being that noisy.

I don’t know… You might think I’m making way too big a deal out of this. What you don’t know is the number of times I didn’t bother escalating incidents; what you do know is that I spend almost all my time at home because that’s where I work for my two jobs. As such, it’s not like I can work around the noisy episodes, since the time of their occurrence varies as much as the airing schedule for Lost. I hate this feeling of living in a university dorm, and I don’t think I should have to endure it. But at the same time, I can’t deny that I’m increasingly feeling some guilt about the whole thing, especially if it leads to someone’s eviction …even an asshole’s eviction. In other words, I’m torn between standing up for myself and wanting to be the accommodating nice guy.