RHINO BOY LIVES IN APARTMENT ABOVE ME

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blunt
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RHINO BOY LIVES IN APARTMENT ABOVE ME

Postby blunt » Mon Jul 02, 2007 11:22 am

Though rarely seen, he is short and stocky, compact and blunt. Black rimmed glasses as thick as the bottom of an old Coke bottle, and a pug nose--perfect for rutting. So much gravity swirls around him that everyday objects shake and shudder in his presence, preparing to orbit.
He doesn’t just walk around his apartment. He stomps back and forth like a rhinoceros stamping out fires in the jungle. Boom boom boom boom goes the ceiling. Rattle rattle rattle go the dishes. Not once. Or twice. Back and forth and back and forth. Over and over and over again. His percussive march begins from the moment the trucks on our street start bucking and rattling as he comes up the sidewalk and flings open then slams shut his door.
Back and forth, over and over.
It is relentless.
From one end of the room to another---not into other rooms! He doesn’t appear to be merely pacing. He pauses at the end of each clomping stroll. I have tried counting the steps and tracing his path in order to discover the inner rhythm behind this clumsy dance. There is no discernable pattern. Just ad finitum to and from. No shape, only a line.
Formless.
Then every few nights, a dog arrives.
With a ball.
Suddenly a mandalla of sound drops violently into my room, stomping and jumping woven together with skittering and sliding, bedazzled my apartment with bouncy bounce and hippity hopping.
Sometimes it gets so poundingly tortuous I become engorged with frustrated rage and nearly, almost but not quite, go kick his door down!!! And ask him to please sit down.

He doesn’t speak. Barely grunts. When I occasionally run into him in the laundry room, he will sometimes abruptly throw his head back in greeting, like he’s just seen someone fall over an embankment.

I wonder what his footsteps are trying to tell me.
I need to understand.
Today I thrust four pencils into each of the four corners of a square piece of Styrofoam from my TiVo box, tiny columns to support a canopy of saran wrap I stretched tight above, like a tiny carport, or a magical fleece for catching dew.
I then sprinkled some baking flour upon the saran wrap.
I smile.
Rhino Boy’s thundering walk will create vibrations that should cause the flour to vibrate into patterns that form a message.
I will read it, and I will know.
Then I can comfortably tell him to shut the fuck up.
I turn off the lights, get comfortable in my chair.
All I can to do now is wait.

TheBookPolice
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Re: RHINO BOY LIVES IN APARTMENT ABOVE ME

Postby TheBookPolice » Mon Jul 02, 2007 11:38 am

blunt wrote:Though rarely seen, he is short and stocky, compact and blunt.


This story doesn't end like Fight Club, does it?

comte buffon
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Postby comte buffon » Mon Jul 02, 2007 6:22 pm

Hello,

My friend had this problem once and he is still on medication to control his subsequent obsessive reaction and rage. tis true. I know it is excruciating.

Since then I have found my own self walking atop someone's ceiling in a similar pattern. You know what I was doing? Putting laundry away. Or cleaning.

It doesn't sound like he's the clean type, but maybe he's doing something like that?

Sincerely,

Comte Buffy

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Postby Bwis53 » Mon Jul 02, 2007 10:39 pm

Poor Blunt! I remember my Elephant Woman! Too bad we can't get your Rhino Boy together with my Yak Woman. Every time she's outside, she's yakking, in that same bossy, self-righteous, irritating tone. If she's in the house, with the windows open, you can still hear her! I feel sorry for her house mates! And here I seriously considered your neighborhood. Seems like shopping for a quiet place is an art.

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Postby acereraser » Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:30 pm

Sometimes I miss those carefree days of apartment livin'. The closest I've had to your situation lately was in the backyard at the house on Hooker Ave. (we were about a half block away from the Pleasure intersection, for those about to ask). There were some rednecks what lived on the other side of the fence, I never actually saw them. But, if we happened to be enjoying the summer air late enough in the day/into the night, odds were we would hear them, but mostly the male specimen, as he was simply louder. They seemed to always be arguing, but I decided that was the only way they could communicate, especially when the target audience is drunk and not really listening anyway.

One special night, the wife and I were outside when the guy seemed to be extra agitated and vulgar. We were getting a little scared and began to discuss calling the cops, as he was giving us both more of a violent vibe than usual. Eventually, it dawned on us he wasn't yelling at his old lady, he was yelling at squirrels, or raccoons, or smurfs, I dunno, but at least we could stop being nervous and enjoy his ranting. The apex of the evening was him threatening his varmint enemies with, "I'll shoot you/I'll kill you, you fuckin' whores!", which has become a family inside joke.

So, house livin' is just like apartment livin', except I could go back inside, shut the door behind me, and I wouldn't hear him anymore.

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Postby evansvillehousewife » Sun Jul 08, 2007 9:25 pm

We lived below Anton Levey and his ferret faced girlfriend who shot out babies faster than biologically possible (they would be two or three months premature, making it possible to produce a new CPS ward every 8-9 months.)

Whilst they could not hold on to their own spawn, SOMEONE found them competent to be daycare providers, so in addition to video games played at top volume 24-7, we had several shrieking ritalin fuled rocketships launching every few minutes.


So fun.

I live far, far away in rural as heck area now.

TheBookPolice
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Postby TheBookPolice » Sun Jul 08, 2007 10:19 pm

evansvillehousewife wrote:We lived below Anton Levey


Please tell me you're just making a snide comment about your actual neighbor's style of dress.

evansvillehousewife
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Postby evansvillehousewife » Mon Jul 09, 2007 1:57 pm

Thankfully, yes. I don;t think I could have dealt with blood dripping from the walls and rituals.

He LOOKED like anton levay and wore a FABULOUS dark purple tranch coat, perfectly fitted, 24-7.

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Postby Dust Mite Rodeo » Mon Jul 09, 2007 6:31 pm

I lived upstairs from Mr. Obsessive-Compulsive-Disorder, going outside to his car and then going back inside, hundreds of times a day, door-slamming, foot pounding, all of the fucking time, guy.

I prayed to sweet death for his grisly demise but it never did happen.

Then, later, I lived below 3 young ectasy cranked rave-culture super slutty spoiled ulra slut bitches that would throw some sort of drug fuelled parties that would go on for 48 hours straight before being followed by zombie crash downtime before the cycle began all over again.

Again, the grim reaper did not answer my prayers.

Now, I own a house where I control at all times whose feet are cracking my plaster. Sweet relief!

blunt
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Postby blunt » Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:24 pm

The sound level of your footsteps tells all.

3 young ectasy cranked rave-culture super slutty spoiled ulra slut bitches that would throw some sort of drug fuelled parties

sounds pretty good actually.
(call me)

but
Mr. Obsessive-Compulsive-Disorder, going outside to his car and then going back inside, hundreds of times a day, door-slamming, foot pounding, all of the fucking time, guy

may be our winner.
(call me)

Bwis53
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Postby Bwis53 » Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:32 pm

Couldn't we just require them all to live on Langdon?! I mean isn't that what Langdon is for? And they would never be lonely. No one would complain. Their neighbors would always approve and join in, 24/7.

blunt
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Postby blunt » Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:35 pm

Bwis53 wrote:Couldn't we just require them all to live on Langdon?! I mean isn't that what Langdon is for? And they would never be lonely. No one would complain. Their neighbors would always approve and join in, 24/7.


Students?
So what about the bank teller that lived above me on Spaight with the high heels who exercised her dog on the wooden floor at 3am after doing coke at Majestic?

cute hat
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Postby cute hat » Mon Jul 09, 2007 7:36 pm

I was at a party where I encountered two of my former downstairs neighbors. One said of me, "She's like a little kitty," to which the other responded, "She is a little kitty."
I'm light on my feet, I guess.
Although I did live upstairs from some real, um, ASSHOLES, and took to clomping around in heavy wooden clogs, just to remind them, Hey! there's someone else on this planet besides you two lunkheads.

Henry Vilas
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Postby Henry Vilas » Mon Jul 09, 2007 8:24 pm

From the Rasta Man himself:

I want to disturb my neighbour,
'Cause I'm feelin' so right;
I want to turn up my disco,
Blow them to full watts tonight, eh! -
In a rub-a-dub style, in a rub-a-dub style,
In a rub-a-dub style, in a rub-a-dub style.

Bwis53
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Postby Bwis53 » Tue Jul 10, 2007 12:00 am

OK agreed, it's not all kids, adults can be roudy too. I've just got a bee in my bonnet over the ones that have a steady roar for late nights. I always knew when some of my neighbors came home because of their distintive steps. My ma used to say,"Hey pick up your feet. You got elephant feet or something?" So I got to be a kitty stepper.


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