I became the bad neighbor after an incident with the woman below me. In my apartment, the hardwood floors are extremely warped and our walls are paper thin. Most of us are single men and women, in our late 20s to early 30s. With that said, adult noises that are made, will be heard. One day, the neighbor underneath me complained to me about my adult activities and the sounds accompanied by them. I reply with “your sounds are just as loud and clear.” During her next rendezvous, one of her suitors had parked in my designated parking spot. As a physically disabled combat veteran, I found it quite irritating to find my parking spot used by a vehicle that is not familiar with the building. Eventually, her date exits the unit, we lock eyes and not a single word was made as they make my parking spot available to me.
A week passes and we never speak about the incident. I never get an apology; whenever we pass in the hallway, I get a good old-fashioned scowl. For the next three years (until she left), I stomped around in my old combat boots as if they were house slippers, started a smoking habit out of spite, and was the host of several orgies in my unit. I would name more activities, but to tickle your imagination; for every holiday, there was a loud, room shaking event on top of her.