Public disturbance
Dec. 17th, 2003 06:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosEvery once in a while, my upstairs neighbours get drunk and spend half the night yelling, swearing and slamming doors. Lately their antics have been getting worse. The worst part of it is we have a non-conforming entrance. They must walk through my hall on the second floor to get to their door.
Five years ago the one-bedroom apartment was rented by a single woman, whose I will call Alicia. That September I came home from the cottage to find that her boyfriend, Doug, had moved in with his two pitbulls. She was bipolar. They would quarrel. She would come and talk to me about it. I can't rmember the details. She ended up going into the Homewood, Guelph's mental hospital, and they broke up.
The next September I came home from the cottage to find that Barb had moved in with Mike. I have never heard anyone with as foul a mouth as Barb. They would quarrel. She would become violent and Doug would confine her. He spent a couplle weeks in jail for assault, but when he got out Barb stayed.
A guy named Marvin lived with Doug for a few months. Marvin used to ring my doorbell in the middle of the night to let him in, but I would ignore it. Once he asked me if I wanted to be his boyfriend. No thanks, I said. Marvin would get drunk and quarrel with Doug. One night Marvin slashed his wrists. The police and ambulance came and took him to the Homewood.
Barb was still living there and swearing her head off. One night I heard what sounded like furniture flying around the apartment. I phoned the police. Doug ended up in jail for two more months, but the charges against him were dropped. He never seemed to hold that phone call against me. Barb left and didn't come back.
The next September I came home from the cottage to find that Carrie had moved in with Doug. Carrie is a Native. She brought a teenage boy and a toddler who screamed constantly. Her mouth wasn't quite as foul as Barb's, but they would quarrel, and when she drank she would become violent. Still, things were quieter than when Barb lived there. Because of the little boy, I suppose.
In September 2002 I came home from the cottage fo find that Carrie had had a baby. In September 2003 I came home from the cottage fo find that Carrie had had another baby. Two babies, a toddler, a teenager, two quarreling adults and two pitbulls in a one-bedroom apartment. At least things were quieter while Carrie was pregnant.
But one weekend last month I came home from Toronto to find the front door had been smashed during the night. At first I thought they had locked themselves out. I forgot that sometimes when Carrie gets violent, Doug locks her out on the street. Or if he can't get her to the street, he locks her in the hall on my floor.
That's what happened on November 29, when![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
djjo was staying here. At bedtime I heard them talking in loud voices, and I warned Danny it was going to be a rough night. To make matters worse, Marvin was there. He had brought his new girlfriend, who carried a Yorkshire terrier around with her. Everyone was still reasonably quiet, so Danny and I had a nice going to bed time.
When we got up to use the bathroom before turning in, Marvin's new girlfriend was sitting at the top of the stairs in my hall holding her terrier. I told her if she was visiting Doug and Carrie, she had to go upstairs, otherwise she had to leave. She said she was just trying to calm down her puppy, but she went upstairs anyway.
Partway through the night, Danny and I were wakened by the sound of Carrie breaking down their door, which is right beside my bedroom. My poor cub was terrifed. I was only furious. I have shared a house with these people long enough to know they won't harm us, just carry on as if they have the place to themselves.
It was about 2 a.m. Danny and I lay awake for a while listening to Carrie and Marvin yell at Doug. Periodically one of the babies would wake up and holler for a while. I drifted off, but I don't think Danny got much more sleep that night. Eventually I heard some people leave, and I decided to make sure the door was locked. When I went down, I found it standing open. Nobody was around. I closed and locked it.
Before long they came back. Doug was upstairs. The other three were out in the street without a key and he wouldn't let them in. Carrie was cursing him, Marvin was yelling loud enought to wake up the whole neighbourhood, and the girlfriend was in tears, pleading to be let in so she could get her wallet. I don't know what happened to the terrier. Eventually Carrie disappeared again. Then her teenage son let Marvin and the girlfriend back in so she could get her things. Then Marvin stood outside my bedroom door blathering drunkenly in a loud voice.
I opened the door and told them to leave, threatening to call the police.
"Why are you being so rude?" said Marvin.
But the girlfriend, who was not drunk, had caught the part about the police, and persuaded him to go with her. Soon the babies stopped crying and things settled down.
These bad nights used to happen every couple of months, but since Marvin showed up again last month, it seems to happen about once a week. Usually their parties are not as loud or violent as the one when Danny was here, but they're still disruptive.
Last night I was awakened by a loud bang. I looked at the clock. It was 3:30. I could hear Marvin yelling. Then the girlfriend came downstairs. She was disgruntled and ready to leave.
I could hear all three of them—Doug, Carrie and Marvin—belittling her because she wouldn't drink with them.
"You think you're better than us."
"I'm not better than you," she whined repeatedly. "I just don't do that." They wouldn't leave her alone, so she stayed, insisting, "I'm not better than you."
Then Marvin proceeded to yell and curse upstairs for half an hour, with Carrie complaining in an unusually subdued tone of voice. But their drunken antics devolved into arguing and slamming of doors that went on from 4 to 6 a.m. Most annoying of all, they were continually trudging up and down the stairs, in and out. I kept listening for them to close the door, hoping they would go away. It would close, then a moment later it would open again, and the trudging and slamming would resume. Carrie kept grumbling about Doug. Marvin would mediate by yelling and cursing at them. I kept thinking it was about to end. I was too tired and intimidated to get up and speak to them. It finally ended around 6:30 when a car pulled up outside. Carrie, Marvin and the girlfriend got in and left. The babies, which had been wailing for an hour, soon quieted down.
I called the landlord today and told him what has been going on. He asked if the dogs are still there. I told him Marvin is back.
"Who's Marvin?" he asked.
I told him my children are going to be staying here for a week over Christmas, and I don't want the neighbours swearing and banging outside their door all night. He said he might speak to them about it, but their cell phone is usually shut off. I don't think he will. He asked if I had spoken to them, but when I explained I was too nervous, he understood.
"If it happens again, phone the police," he said. "They're disturbing the peace."
"I will," I said.
I had about four hours of sleep last night. Today I feel listless and mildly despondent. I don't need this right now.
Five years ago the one-bedroom apartment was rented by a single woman, whose I will call Alicia. That September I came home from the cottage to find that her boyfriend, Doug, had moved in with his two pitbulls. She was bipolar. They would quarrel. She would come and talk to me about it. I can't rmember the details. She ended up going into the Homewood, Guelph's mental hospital, and they broke up.
The next September I came home from the cottage to find that Barb had moved in with Mike. I have never heard anyone with as foul a mouth as Barb. They would quarrel. She would become violent and Doug would confine her. He spent a couplle weeks in jail for assault, but when he got out Barb stayed.
A guy named Marvin lived with Doug for a few months. Marvin used to ring my doorbell in the middle of the night to let him in, but I would ignore it. Once he asked me if I wanted to be his boyfriend. No thanks, I said. Marvin would get drunk and quarrel with Doug. One night Marvin slashed his wrists. The police and ambulance came and took him to the Homewood.
Barb was still living there and swearing her head off. One night I heard what sounded like furniture flying around the apartment. I phoned the police. Doug ended up in jail for two more months, but the charges against him were dropped. He never seemed to hold that phone call against me. Barb left and didn't come back.
The next September I came home from the cottage to find that Carrie had moved in with Doug. Carrie is a Native. She brought a teenage boy and a toddler who screamed constantly. Her mouth wasn't quite as foul as Barb's, but they would quarrel, and when she drank she would become violent. Still, things were quieter than when Barb lived there. Because of the little boy, I suppose.
In September 2002 I came home from the cottage fo find that Carrie had had a baby. In September 2003 I came home from the cottage fo find that Carrie had had another baby. Two babies, a toddler, a teenager, two quarreling adults and two pitbulls in a one-bedroom apartment. At least things were quieter while Carrie was pregnant.
But one weekend last month I came home from Toronto to find the front door had been smashed during the night. At first I thought they had locked themselves out. I forgot that sometimes when Carrie gets violent, Doug locks her out on the street. Or if he can't get her to the street, he locks her in the hall on my floor.
That's what happened on November 29, when
djjo was staying here. At bedtime I heard them talking in loud voices, and I warned Danny it was going to be a rough night. To make matters worse, Marvin was there. He had brought his new girlfriend, who carried a Yorkshire terrier around with her. Everyone was still reasonably quiet, so Danny and I had a nice going to bed time.When we got up to use the bathroom before turning in, Marvin's new girlfriend was sitting at the top of the stairs in my hall holding her terrier. I told her if she was visiting Doug and Carrie, she had to go upstairs, otherwise she had to leave. She said she was just trying to calm down her puppy, but she went upstairs anyway.
Partway through the night, Danny and I were wakened by the sound of Carrie breaking down their door, which is right beside my bedroom. My poor cub was terrifed. I was only furious. I have shared a house with these people long enough to know they won't harm us, just carry on as if they have the place to themselves.
It was about 2 a.m. Danny and I lay awake for a while listening to Carrie and Marvin yell at Doug. Periodically one of the babies would wake up and holler for a while. I drifted off, but I don't think Danny got much more sleep that night. Eventually I heard some people leave, and I decided to make sure the door was locked. When I went down, I found it standing open. Nobody was around. I closed and locked it.
Before long they came back. Doug was upstairs. The other three were out in the street without a key and he wouldn't let them in. Carrie was cursing him, Marvin was yelling loud enought to wake up the whole neighbourhood, and the girlfriend was in tears, pleading to be let in so she could get her wallet. I don't know what happened to the terrier. Eventually Carrie disappeared again. Then her teenage son let Marvin and the girlfriend back in so she could get her things. Then Marvin stood outside my bedroom door blathering drunkenly in a loud voice.
I opened the door and told them to leave, threatening to call the police.
"Why are you being so rude?" said Marvin.
But the girlfriend, who was not drunk, had caught the part about the police, and persuaded him to go with her. Soon the babies stopped crying and things settled down.
These bad nights used to happen every couple of months, but since Marvin showed up again last month, it seems to happen about once a week. Usually their parties are not as loud or violent as the one when Danny was here, but they're still disruptive.
Last night I was awakened by a loud bang. I looked at the clock. It was 3:30. I could hear Marvin yelling. Then the girlfriend came downstairs. She was disgruntled and ready to leave.
I could hear all three of them—Doug, Carrie and Marvin—belittling her because she wouldn't drink with them.
"You think you're better than us."
"I'm not better than you," she whined repeatedly. "I just don't do that." They wouldn't leave her alone, so she stayed, insisting, "I'm not better than you."
Then Marvin proceeded to yell and curse upstairs for half an hour, with Carrie complaining in an unusually subdued tone of voice. But their drunken antics devolved into arguing and slamming of doors that went on from 4 to 6 a.m. Most annoying of all, they were continually trudging up and down the stairs, in and out. I kept listening for them to close the door, hoping they would go away. It would close, then a moment later it would open again, and the trudging and slamming would resume. Carrie kept grumbling about Doug. Marvin would mediate by yelling and cursing at them. I kept thinking it was about to end. I was too tired and intimidated to get up and speak to them. It finally ended around 6:30 when a car pulled up outside. Carrie, Marvin and the girlfriend got in and left. The babies, which had been wailing for an hour, soon quieted down.
I called the landlord today and told him what has been going on. He asked if the dogs are still there. I told him Marvin is back.
"Who's Marvin?" he asked.
I told him my children are going to be staying here for a week over Christmas, and I don't want the neighbours swearing and banging outside their door all night. He said he might speak to them about it, but their cell phone is usually shut off. I don't think he will. He asked if I had spoken to them, but when I explained I was too nervous, he understood.
"If it happens again, phone the police," he said. "They're disturbing the peace."
"I will," I said.
I had about four hours of sleep last night. Today I feel listless and mildly despondent. I don't need this right now.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 04:07 pm (UTC)I think your landlord is not taking anything like a strong enough line here. Surely all this smashing of doors is grounds for eviction, even if the rest of it isn't?
Call the police on them every single time it happens. Even though it's unlikely that they'll all be carted off to jail (with the kids!?), which is the only thing likely to get you any peace long-term.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 01:31 pm (UTC)I will. I have put up with too much nonsense.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 08:19 pm (UTC)Are you to the point yet where moving is looking like a reasonable solution?
no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 10:41 pm (UTC)(I liked your icon so I browsed your journal, and just had to comment as there was a particularly bad episode tonight so its fresh on my mind, mostly I feel sorry for the kids in these situations - my neighbors have 3).
no subject
Date: 2003-12-17 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 07:51 am (UTC)I'm so sorry to read this. We have a pair of drunks and dope users living in our building as well, but they live in the basement apartment which is 3 floors below us. I often here them fighting out on the sidewalk which runs along the south side of the building.
It sounds to me as if the only real solution would be for the landlord to evict them, and it sounds as if he is unwilling to take that step (perhaps because of the legal expense involved). I would think he would be fed up with the expense of replacing the doors and other stuff they damage in the building.
Keep us posted. I hope it is quiet while the girls are with you!
hugs, Shimmer
no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 02:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 08:54 am (UTC)Anyway, what sounds particularly difficult about your situation is that it's been going on so long and becoming more frequent. Handling something for one night -- no big deal. For as long as you have? Yuck. I'd call the *landlord* every time it happens. The police probably can't effect a long-term change, but the landlord might be able to.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-18 02:14 pm (UTC)I think that is the best solution. He would rather forget about it, and I shouldn't let him.
I expect the police would be helpful. I'm just nervous about calling them. Last time, I ended up having to testify in court, which was a headache I didn't need. I really don't like to cause trouble for my neighbours, considering I have to share space for them, but the fact is they're frequently making it miserable for me.