Either I am surprisingly intolerant, or I have been blessed with shite neighbours. First up there was Twat Boy in Brixton, swiftly followed by his Amsterdam twin, the clog-dancing sexyboy De Twat. The neighbours in the Quebec countryside are so far away from us that we can only just hear the tinkling of their miniature watermill water feature over the roar of passing Harley owners, so they are OK.
In Montreal, however, we are blessed with two of the most gigantic fuckwits ever to draw breath; these knob-ends live below us with two annoying dogs (bored and badly trained), and a propensity to get all their screamingly boring friends out in the "yard" to "drink beer" under our bedroom window at 4am. When they are not doing that, they are having screaming matches; he is the most boring little man, and she a screaming Mexican underwear designer, so you can imagine what that's like.
Next to us live two artistic types. They have just moved in with their daughters. The husband is nice. He is an actor and director with eyes pointing in different directions and eventful hair. The wife lowers her eyes when we come out of the door and does not say hello; sometimes she does work for a place "where spectators become engaged citizens through the power of theatre". I do not think we would have a lot in common. The daughters are children, and are as children are.
They have just started doing a lot of building work. If I was a normal person with a job and out all day, and not someone aimlessly waiting day after day for my Canadian residency to come through whilst 90% of my friends are skipping about on another continent (yes, I am bored, so bored in fact that I am about to slip into the Slough of Despond), I would be out all day and therefore not here to listen to:
- banging, endless banging
- knocking on the back door (only accessible if you come through the downstairs garden and up the stairs, i.e. very difficult to do unless you are a burglar), revealing a wild-eyed building contractor whose accent I do not understand asking me if he can carry his logs up our staircase;
- banging and ringing on the front door, revealing a sad-eyed young chap asking me if it is my BMW and/or truck blocking in his green van, and if it is not, would I mind knocking on the neighbour's door every 10 minutes or so to check if they are back to deliver a message on his behalf?
But I am in, and I have to listen to it, and it is a bit annoying. But yesterday I saw the man with the eventful hair. He was charming. Apologetic. Sympathetic. Absolutely clear that should the noise be desperately intrusive, we should phone him immediately and tell him. It was nice and we had a friendly and understanding neighbourchat.
That was enough, as it happens. But then the letter from the wife! The lady helping people get engaged through theatre! My. The problem is this. The letter is absolutely correct. It is polite, it is clear, it is friendly. But I am not pre-disposed to like her, and it is affecting my ability to read her letter with reasonable eyes:
"You may have heard a bit of noise coming from our house over the past two days. I apologize for the dusturbance. Al and I (and our two daughters E and B) have embarked on a renovation project that may last as long as two months."
Their daughters are about 8 and 5. I am not sure they have opinions about for e.g. the placing of joists and girders. (Talking of joists and girders, here is a joke.) Is this not a bit fey? I am not going to be sympathetic to fucking massive amounts of noise because E and B are 'involved'.
"Our contractor, D, works from 7.30am - 4.30pm Monday to Friday. I am afraid that between now and Christmas there will be a fair amount of banging, sawing, etc ... coming from our house during those times."
Yes. It is a fair amount. 7.30 is legal in Quebec so even though it is fucking ridiculous, there isn't much I can do about it. It is so loud, and so violent, that it makes things fall off my kitchen counter. I have no need for an alarm clock. Christmas?
"Again, I apologize ro any inconvenience this may cause you and I invite you to communicate with me or with my husband A if you ever feel that the work is having a particularly negative impact on your life."
I do not know what to do with this. It feels passive aggressive, but maybe it is not. Maybe it is just very polite and slightly formal (and a bit la-la, but then she does engage citizens in the power of biscuits via the jizz of theatre for a living). What I actually want to say is: "Get it, absolutely no problem, hope your new bedroom is very nice - but can you just let me know how long the REALLY loud stuff is going to go on for, 'cos then I can piss off to the country and get away from it." But can I? I do not know.
Pip "not really a moral dilemma" Pip
NWM
10 comments:
You can. Although don't take my word for it, I'm Finnish and utterly unaware of Canadian rules of politeness. I've had my unfair share of noisy neighbours, though, and feel your pain, not to mention the boredom of the unemployed (I'm commenting rather than lurking! Must be getting serious..) - too bad the badge never arrived.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BADGE NEVER ARRIVED?! I HAD EXTRA FUN AT THE POSTOFFICE on that one (sorry about the shouting). Actually you've just reminded me - I need to send some badges off this afternoon ... eeek ...
You are bored, I'm afraid, but this is not your fault, and it is bloody irritating. I remember as students my housemate running downstairs first thing (approx 11.30) and shouting at the builders in the flat below 'you wake me up every day!' in her PJs. They, of course, found that pretty amusing.
I left a birthday card for my office mate (a 32 year old man who takes himself rather seriously) that was covered in monkeys and intended for a small child. He emailed to thank me for the card as 'it was very kind'. No-one, but no-one, understands how much that annoyed me. Kind? Kind? He's two years older than me! And the card was bloody hilarious!
Overdone formality in 2nd (or 3rd) language, perhaps? (The equivalent of overdosing one's French with "Je vous en prie" and "Veuillez")
Oh, I feel your pain, having myself moved to a semi-remote spot to avoid noisy neighbours (the new brand of "students" who play loud music at all hours).
The note is a bit la-la but I think what sounds like passive-aggressiveness is simply a combination of pomposity, tin-earedness and being a slight fuckwit. Yes, I would definitely ask how long.
And may I congratulate you on "eventful hair"? That's quality.
I agree that it's more likely to be bad drafting than sournoiserie that is the cause of the letter's tone. The problem with bad neighbours is that even if you win a court case for being flooded you don't get the all expenses paid holiday in the Bahamas that would be the proper recompense (experte credo). I also agree that tactically the thing to do is to pocket the implicit offer to do something about complaints and ask when the heavy noise is going to be over. After all if they're redoing a flat for two months (and it will take longer) there must be a point at which they intend to stop putting in steels and start painting. Perhaps you could invent a visit in four weeks by an aged relative who requires quiet during the day and seek assurance that the banging will have stopped by then.
i rather think i agree with all of the above! and you have my undiluted compassion. i have a neighbour upstairs - hah! - neighbour is a poor word - he lives lin the upstairs flat - and he has concrete feet. his child, who visits frequently, plays ball up there, and leaps out of bed with HUGE enthusiasm, and junior concrete feet. i lie in bed, or sit on my sofa, saying words i didn't know i knew! can't go out, cos i broke my hip and wrist, and am not completely mobile yet!
same about the badge, darling monkey. never arrived. boohoo!
I'm so glad I'm not the only one that never got my badge/s. I feel much better about it now. Do you have an iPod or something you can wear to drown out the noise? Do you still have an apartment in the city that you could escape to for a little respite? Do you have any gorilla goons you can send over to "reason" with them?
Should I send cousin Guido up to have a wee chat with them?
Thank you everyone for your kind words in these difficult times. I have had a suggestion of 'noise cancelling earphones', which might help - particularly as I may be able to plug them in to my computer to watch back to back episodes of "Come Dine With Me All in one" and "Three In A Bed". In other news, the badges make me sad, so sad. I think it is a combination of crap postal service and my fuckwittery, so I promise on my life to go through my email again this week and send out all badges re-requested again, possibly in French AND English.
Sigh.
Oh also I have had it on good authority that the author of the letter is a trust-fund kid who had her sense of humour surgically removed, and whose actors very much dislike working with her, so it is very likely that she is just self-regarding and pompous. Let us not forget also that she has to spend her days engaging disinterested citizens in the power of jizz via the medium of theatre, or whatever it is, which I am sure after a while might wear you down a little bit.
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