Our neighbor below dislikes us. When we jump and dance a little too much, we hear a steady pounding from below made with a broom handle (or axe handle? Who knows) at their ceiling to express their displeasure. Every time she sees us in the hall she asks us to buy rugs. i don’t have the heart to tell her…we already have rugs. (Plus, whenever she stops me, I’m running late, have three kids, or am just like bone-tired, and have so far resisted telling her she is so low in my totem pole that she doesn’t even actually have a spot on the pole.) Our Witness-Relocation Building (and I don’t mean to insult our neighborhood, both equal parts bucolic and seedy. We live close to a beautiful park but trod on a sea of cigarette butt-decorated sidewalk to get there). Sound travels in these old buildings; in ours, up and down rather than side to side. When I am home, it sounds like the people above are hosting a circus rehearsal every night. I can’t figure out what I’m actually hearing. They cannot possibly dragging twenty chairs back and forth from one side to the room to the side, right? Wait, was that galloping? There really isn’t a troop of elephants stampeding in a circle up there, right? They definitely have a dog. I’ve seen it around but I can hear the little thing bark and slide around the floors. I think what happens is the doorbell rings, he runs toward it but realize there is too much momentum, so has to slow down by scraping his nails along the living room floor. Very effective breaking system, but I CAN HEAR EVERY SINGLE NAIL.
I can only imagine what we must sound like.