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The conversation we had went like this;
ME: Oh hi, I am sorry are we being loud?
Megabitch: YES YOU ARE BEING LOUD BUT THAT”S NOT WHY I CAME UP….THERE IS ALSO STOMPING….STOMPING!!!
Me: Oh I am so very so….
Megabitch: (interrupting) LISTEN I KNOW THERE IS A FOOTBALL GAME ON TONIGHT BUT THIS HAS TO STOP. I MEAN THERE IS STOMPING.
ME: I’m sorry. Listen my name is Burt and I just moved in here. I am sorry we had to meet on these terms. What’s your name?
Megabitch: STEPHAAAANIE!!! (tapping feet)
ME: Okay Stephanie..well it was nice to meet you and I will make sure to try and keep it down.
Megabitch: YEAH WELL COULD YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE STOMPING (Still in my doorway)
Me: Okay Stephanie I will make sure that this doesn’t happen again.
Megabitch: WELL GOOD. (gives some sort of glare and walks back down the stairs)
So megabitch waddles her unhappy ass down stairs and I legitimately feel bad about getting off to such a rough start with my new neighbor. Then after a few more tall cans (Joe Montana’s = 16 oz cans) I started to think about the whole situation and I realized that there is no fucking way I should have apologized. It was 7 o’clock at night. If there was any stomping it wasn’t going to be consistent and she knew there was a football game on. Basically, I have boiled it down to the fact that she thinks she is in charge of how things run in this building and she likes things a certain way. Well Steph, if I can call you Steph, I have a feeling that if you want to come by and try to tell me how it is again it won’t be the same type of cordial situation. So you can take your high and mighty, passive aggressive note writing, spandex wearing emasculated boyfriend having, no fun tight ass attitude and save it for the lady who lives above me playing bongos at 8am in the morning on a Sunday. BIATCH.
1 comment:
First off burt, I feel you man. This steph lady has got some fucking nerve. I say now is time for re-education. I say we go down there to her douchebag den and give her a helping of poo bulbs (yes we may need to break in when they go to Crunch to workout and spot each other). When she wants to turn on the lighting, the heat from the bulbs heat the poo hidden on the metal screw in thang. And yes, heated poo smells like shit, even more so that regular shit. And so saddlebags tromps up the stairs to complain about the stank since all of her problems are rooted with you. And then we laugh, laugh long and strong. IN her FACE! Not our problem stinky!! Maybe you should move perhaps?? brahahahah
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