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Nutty Neighbours…

March 10, 2009

There’s a crazy lady in our building. No, it’s not me before you ask. She’s in a completely different league of crazy.

The first signs of craziness came with the loud music, vibrating through the wooden floor of the apartment, thrusting its way into my dreams. Then came the banging, always between 6.30 and 7a.m. like some kind of morning ritual, leaving me to trudge to work with a bad mood headache.

A week into the craziness, thing took a turn for the worse. Sat at home feeling ill, wishing for coal for the oven so I didn’t have to wear all these damned sweaters, I smelled smoke. Living in an altbau with oven heating, the smell of smoke isn’t unusual but no sooner had I inhaled the scent of burning ‘something’, blue flashing lights reflected in my living room window and I went out onto the balcony to investigate just in time to see a cloud of smoke rise up from the apartment below.

Making my escape onto the stairwell, I witnessed the drama of the fire brigade’s dramatic entrance into the apartment below. Aparently the crazy lady had fallen asleep with the oven door open, various items of furniture poking out, filling the room with smoke and our other neighbour had called the police, fearing the poor lady had met her maker (and that we were all about to).

So now I know what to do when we have no coal…. I guess maybe she’s not so crazy after all-just cold- and the banging was her chopping up her Ikea chairs. (She still plays loud music).


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