h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Who apparently enjoys sitting on his balcony smoking cigarettes, coughing his lungs up and hawking gobs of phlegm over the railing

Sounds classy

Look on the bright side, at least you're above him so he won't gob on you

Ugh. People smoking under your window is ... *shudder*.

You have my sympathy.

TRiG.

That's true egon, but if my balcony door is open the smell of the smoke wafts into my apartment. Cigarette smoke is unpleasant enough as it is, but somehow it becomes even more unpleasant as it becomes diluted, which it is by the time it gets up here. Plus, the sound of the coughing and the gobbing is quite disgusting, and if it starts happening while I'm eating, well that's my dinner over and done with

I'll put it in perspective for you. Maybe it will mitigate your angst.


My last apartment, in Houston was a tiny 1 bedroom. Technically, it was half of a former two bedroom. My "kitchen" was formerly a foyer or something. It was approximately 3.5' by 7'. I couldn't open the fridge door completely. Nor could I reach the sink if I had the oven door open. And when the oven door was open, I couldn't open the cabinet that kept my pots & pans. My first day in the apartment, I rather disgustingly learned what my new neighbors had for dinner as it came up through my sink when they turned on the disposal. (It was a package chicken & basil pasta.)

Dividing our apartments was a thin enough wall, but between our bedrooms, was just a hollow core interior door wedged in and painted white. So, I heard every word of every argument my neighbors had. And being a young couple with a baby due very soon after I moved in, they had plenty of arguments; mostly about money, of course. Of course, they weren't always at home. When they were away, their dirty mop of a dog (cute if you could find its face) barked incessantly. Oh, there was week or so when they weren't fighting. This was when the Rockets were in their 2nd championship series with the L.A. Lakers. They would stay up late for the West coast games and cheer the Rockets on. They seemed to think the team could hear them.

The complex had rather sketchy electrics. I couldn't run two small appliances at once in my "kitchen" without throwing a breaker. The breaker box was just outside my bedroom window. But as I was in the center of a long building, that meant it was as far away (especially in the rain) as it could be and still be on the same building. I complained often and they finally did something about it. They put a lock on the breaker box. Well, so much for opening cans while making tea or running the microwave.

My apartment was located between Braes Bayou, which was basically a large, concrete walled ditch, and another, smaller flood control ditch leading to it. I was often flooded in. Directly behind the complex was a large set of power lines buzzing away. And directly beside the complex were two sets of freight train tracks. I asked the receptionist before I signed the lease how often she heard the trains at night, and she replied that she never did. A few weeks later I learned that that was because she didn't live on site. They passed every 15 minutes 24/7/365. Just down road (and the bayou beside it) was a police substation with a concertina wire perimeter. Apparently even the squad cars weren't exempt from car theft and burglary.

I do sometimes miss living in the city, but I don't miss multi-unit apartment living at all.

I like living in an apartment complex, mostly. It probably goes back to the block of flats I lived in for six or seven of my first ten years. It was (still is) a low-rise block, three storeys with twelve flats in the building, and another building (six flats) on each side, forming a U-shape around a common... well it wasn't exactly a garden but it wasn't a courtyard either. Some of it was lawn, some was concrete, and there were washing lines and sheds, one of which was for the dustbins. Across the top of the U there was a fence with a barley field on the other side.

There were two more of these U-shaped arrangements along that stretch of road, so we're talking about 72 dwellings, most of them families, and there were family houses on the other side of the road, all council.

Everyone in the flats knew pretty much everyone else so there was a very tight-knit and communal feel to it, which I liked a lot. There are things I miss about living in a single-occupancy house for sure, like a garden and all the things you can do with it, but not too much else, and I've been fortunate in that I've rarely, if ever, had bad experiences with landlords, whether private or business, and not too often with neighbours. In my years as a removal man I saw plenty of truly awful privately rented flats and heard stories about landlords that would make your hair curl from the people I was moving. I even ended up as a witness for someone who took her landlord to small claims court on one occasion.

Council accommodation living has definitely been my best experience, both growing up and for a spell in the 80s. There are many things I can never forgive Thatcher for, and enacting legislation to allow tenants to buy council properties is in the top three. I prefer to rent, and given the choice I'd go for council, business and private landlord, in that order, if council was still the way it was when I was a kid.

I don't mind living in a neighbourhood, but those have been the worst experiences I've had of living in Austin because in probably four or five out of every ten houses there's a dog, and almost no-one, it seems, trains their dog, unless they train their dog to bark at anything that moves, or at nothing at all just for the hell of it. And as soon as one dog starts barking any other dog within hearing distance starts up too.

There are some annoying dogs in the complex too, but they only bark during the day because at night they're indoors with their owners. In neighbourhoods people will leave their dogs out in the garden at night, and I had lost so much sleep because of dogs barking at nothing at all throughout the night that we had to move from one place. The half-dozen chihuahuas that lived next door and never went in the house were a big (but by no means the only) part of that.

It has been so many years since I lived in an apartment that I'm not sure if I'd like it or not. I really enjoy my yard and garden, but the older I get, the harder it is to maintain. I have pets and would hate a life without them. And I enjoy being able to do what I please both onside and out. On the other hand, not having to worry about maintenance, keeping the grass mowed and weeds pulled, etc. is becoming more appealing.

Neighbors can be a real pain no matter where you live. With apartments, it's harder to get away from their noise, smells, etc. I was lucky enough back in the day to always have good neighbors. I can't say the same for some of them after I became a house-dweller.

If I could afford it, I would like to have a downtown apartment within walking distance of the things I need. I've always wanted to live on the Riverwalk in San Antonio or close to Country Club Plaza in Kansas City or within walking distance of the ballpark in St. Louis. That sort of thing. I've given up on London.

Yeah, I think I have too. I don't think I'll ever be able to afford to live there again, leastways not with any decent standard of living

No way will my retirement income be enough for it, so there's no point in worrying about it. It would be wonderful, though.

Opinions please.

Immediately below my place is a youngish fellow with a girlfriend who sounds quite.... enthusiastic. He wears a baseball cap backwards and drives an older Mercedes convertible that needs a tune up that sits mostly in parking. He invites friends over that seem to want to talk in mumbles endlessly on his balcony at 4:00 in the morning on weekends and occasionally weekdays. The balcony is 12 feet away from my bedroom window, diagonally and I like to sleep with the window open a bit. If he paid what I paid for his place he has some money.

I have no direct evidence but I have imagined him as either an inheritor or a coke dealer. What do you think?

Let's hope it's the former

Back to that horrid little apartment I had in Houston. The neighbor I had on the other side of me was quite quiet. But one week she was away and her college age daughter stayed there while she was gone. One night, a workday night like Wednesday I believe, her boyfriend stayed with her. She sounded quite "enthusiastic" at around 2:00 am. While it kept me awake, I didn't complain. However at around three, the boyfriend broke out his acoustic guitar and began singing some alt-folk-rock tune.

OK, I had to work in the morning... So, I banged on the wall and yelled, "She already let you [make love to] her, you don't need to serenade her NOW!"

I heard a few giggles and no more guitar that night.

I don't think it's cigarettes that he's smoking.

Maybe you could set up a reverse fan and putt some of it inside your apartment.

Make that pull, not putt.

No, not that stuff. For the past few weeks I've been wondering if we have have a new skunk in the neighbourhood. Now I know that we Don't

Really. It's a shame he isn't smoking the good stuff.

I think I must be about the only person in Austin doesn't, er, y'know. Well, me and Rick Perry. It's that kind of town. There are certain varieties of hops that can give a beer s lightly skunky flavour (hops being related to weed), and in a good way, and when highly diluted the smell of actual skunk isn't that unpleasant, but whatever it is he's setting fire to, it smells awful