Inner City Living & the Neighbours from Hell

I try to keep bitching levels low and optimism high on this blog, mostly because that's how I like to live my life these days. But it's time for a little rant (sorry!).

The most obvious thing that hit me about living in a city was the all noise around me, the noise of people everywhere, the sound of cutlery on plates, the sound of chitter chatter, the sound of people making love, the sound of radio's, TV's, children and pets. I love it, I love the feeling of living among people.

If you don't like city life and the noises that come with it, then maybe you should move out of the city and into the suburbs? I speak of my neighbours downstairs, of course.

Every afternoon at 3pm he comes home, starts by yelling at his children and then turns up his T.V so loud it vibrates through the floor boards. I can tolerate this because hopefully soon enough I will be working when he is at home harassing his family. I can also overlook the fact that he is such a bad parent that his little children are up crying at 11pm when they should be well asleep. This I tolerate because I like to hope that when they grow up they won't take his shit, they will see how Dutch kids all around them are much happier than they are and they will begin to question his psychopathic tendencies. I also tolerate this because I have accepted that these are city noises, and they are unavoidable.

What I don't tolerate though, is when he bangs on his roof (our floor boards) once a week on Friday or Saturday night when we decide to play some music and enjoy a glass of wine, rather than talking to us about it in a civilised adult manner.

What I also don't tolerate is him banging on my door and yelling at me the first time some water from my balcony plants dripped onto his balcony (which he never uses might I add). This is another thing he can come and talk to me about in a civilised adult manner. I refuse to reward aggressive behaviour so I continue watering my plants (which I don't really see any problem with doing anyway) I will do this until he stops behaving like an aggressive 5 year old and starts behaving like the grown man that he is supposed to me.

However, since standing my ground, I have noticed that everyday I get on my bike I find a new problem with it, is this a coincidence?

- My wheels rattle and have been damaged by what looks like a kick.
- My kick stand has been broken off.
- My tyres were inflated so much that they felt like they would burst (we know they can't, but you know, people like him are stupid enough to think they can).
- The battery on my front light was drained even though it was brand new.
- One of the reflectors behind the handles has been smashed.
- Glass was put under the tires.
- A long metal antenna was hidden in with the spokes of my wheel (luckily for me I'm not as good on my bike as a Dutchie so I don't just jump on it and ride away).

Am I being paranoid here? Or are these the classic signs of a psychopath getting revenge by vandalising the only thing of mine he can? Or the behaviours of a psychopaths children who think I'm the bad guy?