Living in an apartment building means learning to live with tolerance. Other people are going to do some weird things, cook some stuff that reeks, or occasionally have a different schedule than what you would prefer. It’s the way it goes.

Last Saturday night around midnight, we had quite the run in with the neighbors. They have a 10 month old. I know their child is 10 months old, because the dad shouted it thrice through clenched teeth. “I have a 10 month old!!” I’ve heard that 10 month old. Everyone in the building has. That kid’s a pain in the ass, just like her parents.

I’ve had previous run ins with the folks upstairs before, specifically when the passive aggressive mom came to yell at me about me smoking on my own damned deck. Okay, she had a point with that one, but a few weeks later I saw her complaining to the landlord about garbage pick up times. She was very pissed that the truck sometimes comes at 7 in the morning, a truck dispatched by the city of Los Angeles DPW and in no way under my landlord’s control. She was insistent and wasn’t going to back down, threatening to call the city and building owners. What’s the landlord supposed to do? It’s like people who scream at operators. The operator didn’t charge you the fee. He’s not pocketing it and heading to the Track to play the ponies. But no, she’s going to yell and scream and force her World Order on any and all, a shared trait with her husband that clearly won her his heart. I can’t stand people who try to control the uncontrollable. Anyway…

So it’s Saturday night at approximately 12:02, and people from 3 different decks were outside. The folks in 204 are from South Africa and have lived in the building 20 years. As is their custom, they pulled out a drum to accompany our merriment. The people in the building next door were equally vibrant, banging pots and pans and shooting off poppers. Then it happened. It came from above, sucking up joy and leaving fear in its wake.

“SHUT UP! I have a 10 MONTH OLD!!”

I said this was last Saturday night. By the way, last Saturday night was New Year’s Eve.

Being adults, the dozen or so of us in the collective courtyard area immediately realized that yes, we were being a bit loud. True, it was New Years, just moments after midnight, but we weren’t in our early 20’s and weren’t going to take a stand and fight for our right to party. The right was ours by rights anyhow, but we were willing to lay it aside, especially with all of us completely aware that through one window on our same level was a 5 day old, totally asleep. My 5 day old. We acted maturely. The offended yeller took a different tack.

“I have a BABY!”

“Sorry, that was a little much. We’ll keep it down. Happy New Years!”

“FUCK YOU! What the FUCK is wrong with you?! I have a 10 MONTH OLD!”

“Whoa. Let’s just take it easy there. We said we’re sorry, and we’ll move inside. Happy New Years.”

“Fuck you! My Baby is SLEEPING! I have a 10 MONTH OLD! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I understand that, sir. We apologize.”

“What the fuck is WRONG with you?!”

In the face of irrational behavior the rational man should walk away, but I was in it now, too far to back out. The exit was closer than returning to the entrance. 

“Hey, fuck you, pal.”

“What the fuck did you JUST SAY to ME??!!”

“I said fuck you. We apologized, and everybody has gone inside. It’s New Year’s Eve. You couldn’t have been caught off guard by this. I’ve got a 5 day old in here who’s sleeping just fine.”

“FUCK YOU! My baby is trying to sleep!”

“That kid’s trying to escape. We’ve all heard her. Try smiling at her once in a while. Happy fucking New Year’s.”

With that, I went inside. I haven’t seen that neighbor since, but yesterday around 4 PM a completely different neighbor with a 3 year old rang our doorbell and brought us dinner. She said she “heard” I have a 5 day old and wanted to bring us some food. I can’t verify how or where she “heard” I have a 5 day old, but I think the food was a reward. I may have inadvertently launched a faction war in my building.

Okay, again, they probably have a point. We were loud, and a child who is clearly finicky and rambunctious is probably driving those people batty. I have also been a parent for just shy of a week, and have no idea what is to come. My kid could put theirs to shame in the upcoming months when it comes to screaming, for all I know. Kids scream. Kids have been screaming in this building for years. I can tolerate screaming kids because kids don’t know any different. It’s screaming adults that get to me. Yes, we were loud. We probably woke Problem Child on the 3rd floor. However, the DAD yelled WAY louder than any noise we were making. He made it confrontational, then refused to adjust tone when we respected his wishes quickly and with humility. He wanted blood. He wanted vengeance it would seem, not justice. You can catch more flies with honey over vinegar, pal. We would have given him a glass of champagne if he’d been cool in his approach. You know what? Fuck that guy.

Happy fucking New Year’s.