People All Around Us

The business of being an apartment dweller in New York City is not all glamour. The truth is, if you inhabit one of these edifices that dot this massive skyline, you are master of a rather limited domain. The square footage that makes up the breadth of your living space is yours…from the walls in. Anything outside of that wall is space beyond your control. You can't control the foibles of the residents that live on either side of you, nor those who reside on the floor above or below. You hope that they are careful with flammable items. You hope that they don't have a festering rodent or cockroach or (horror of horrors) a bedbug situation. You hope that they don't play loud music or are prone to screaming in drunken rages. You just take your chances sometimes.

We've been fortunate with our neighbors for the most part. They are relatively quiet, seem to be tidy, sanitary and considerate and they greet you politely when they see you in the hallways when they take out their garbage. Yes, I am perfectly content with my neighbors.

Except for those assholes that live upstairs.

Our building has 222 apartments. It's a 1907 prewar building and 65% of it has been converted to co-op units, owned by shareholders in the building. The balance of the apartments are rental units. Thanks to rent control policies in the city of New York, many of the rental tenants have lived here for decades. Multiple generations have lived in our building for its duration. One generation dies off and leaves the apartment to their offspring who have the opportunity to pay the same attractive low level of rent as the descendant enjoyed. So while renters are paying a buck and a half to reside in a 6 room apartment (and let's be honest, who can blame them?), the building association waits patiently for the last of the kin to pass away so the apartment can be rented at an exorbitant rate or converted to a high priced co-op.

Our neighbors upstairs have rented their apartment for many years. A whole family resides there, including the ne'er do well boyfriend of the woman who rents the apartment. They'd been perfectly quiet and pleasant neighbors for many months until an incident transpired that reversed every last ounce of my goodwill.

I'm not entirely sure of the circumstances but the ne'er do well has a tendency to nod off while running the bathtub, usually at night, but lately in the wee hours of the dawn. The water runs over the edge of their tub, onto the floor and leaks through the floor and the riser that connects the floor. The result is a gush of water that floods our bathroom floor, runs out into the hallway, waterlogs our lovely wood floors and streaks water down the bathroom AND the hallway walls. It's happened multiple times in the four years we've lived here but it has happened with unparalleled frequency in the past two months.

Last night at 12:28 am, Fang and I were started from a restful slumber to the unmistakable sound of water drizzling from the ceiling, from the door threshold and into the hallway. Mother fucker. This was the third time in less than two months that this was happening again. We knew the drill and bolted into action. Fang called the doorman to alert him to call the tenant above us (and by extension, to warn the tenant below us who also suffers the residual run off of the torrents of water). We engaged mops to stem the flow from creeping further into the hall. Towels were dispatched. The water flow finally stemmed and the doorman called to confirm that the tenant had stopped running the water. Oh, and that the apartment below us had called to complain about water in their bathroom.

In the past when this happened, our first course of action was to run up the back stairs and pound furiously on our neighbor's door. When the incident became reoccurring, we had to engage the co-op's Board of Directors. Tenant rights being what they are, we had not officially documented in writing these previous events so we had no recourse at all. So for the past few incidents, Fang has copiously detailed every event and sent this to the officers on the Board, the management company, the building sponsor and anyone else associated with increasing our maintenance fees every year. The Board wrings their hands and indicates they may have to evict this tenant but in fact, no action has yet been taken. I don't know what it will take.

I ran into the co-op Board President in the elevator recently. She apologized for our situation but added wistfully, "Well, the woman in that apartment is so nice and has been here for a long time." I was unmoved. "Listen," I replied, "I don't care if Jesus Christ himself lives in that apartment. If He were this careless, I'd want him out on his ass too." And I would.

So I look ruefully at the buckling of the ceiling and floors, the damage to the tiles and the water stains on my original mahogany doors. I'm still furious, but I bide my time. Oh yes, I will have my revenge.