Is This a Rabbit Hutch Or An Apartment?

“Shut up. Yeah, you, up there!”

I'm tired of pounding the ceiling with a broomstick.

“Hello, Mike. I’ll get right to the point. Can you make the guy above me quiet down? I have to get up early for work, and he's banging on the floor—fucking! Get him a bed. Why am I calling you? You’re the landlord. Did you forget? Do not dare send your 'apartment manager' brother—he stole my antique Christmas ornaments, remember? I got them back after you both said they were taken to the dump, and then they suddenly reappeared when I wouldn't pay the rent. I’m not paying rent until this noise problem is fixed."

"I need you to talk to your upstairs tenant—he and his girlfriend are making too much noise on the floor every night. This is now my business, so please address it by ensuring he has proper furniture or that he makes less noise."

“Oh, it’s you, the upstairs guy. Really? You have a problem with me? You are damned right I talked to the landlord. You are banging your girl ON THE FLOOR, like rabbits humping. You wake me up every night. It’s no one's business but yours? Are you kidding? YOU MADE IT MY BUSINESS by being so noisy. GET A BED!”

Copyright © 3/26/2026 by Andrea O. Corwin Thanks for stopping by! 😃 If you like ♡ my scribbles, hit the subscribe button. Please consider leaving a comment. ✍️❤️

This is a true story from long ago when I was a young single mom. I don't know the guy's name and wouldn't care at all if he read this and recognized himself. And the owner of the building kept letting his drug addicted brother manage the building irresponsibly. I moved upstairs after mr. rabbit moved out, and then they rented my former apartment to a group of guys who practiced their BAND MUSIC below me. I had to speak to them about that, so my daughter could go to sleep at night.