Enough is enough…

April 24, 2005 6:39pm
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Last night Leslie and I were woken up at 3:30 AM to the sound of somebody pounding on my neighbor’s door, shouting, “Open up this door, you mother fucker!” This went on for a good five minutes and needless to say, we were scared to death. You see, about 9:00 PM Saturday night, we had called the police for yet another noise complaint because we couldn’t hear the movie we were watching over my neighbor’s stereo system. Long story short, we couldn’t tell from the bedroom whose door this guy was actually pounding on at 3:30 AM and figured that he was pissed because we filed a complaint against him. Somehow Leslie was able to fall back asleep because she had to work early this morning, but I was up for at least another couple of hours.

Point blank: I’m not going to live somewhere that I don’t feel safe.

I was willing to deal with the noise issues, despite the huge party that “went down” Friday night at 1:30 AM and shook our bed for the better part of an hour before it got broken up, but this has gone too far. Before my girlfriend was leary of walking from the parking lot to my apartment after dark because of the shady individuals that hang around the commons areas – well, now she doesn’t want to do it during the day and frankly, I don’t blame her. I used to not have any qualms about walking over to the pool for a late night swim – now I’m not going anywhere after dark unless I absolutely have to, and this isn’t going to stand for very long. I refuse to live somewhere that I’m afraid to come home to at the end of the day for fear of finding that my neighbors have looted the apartment during the afternoon, or somewhere that it’s not uncommon to be woken up in the middle of the night by hip-hop and profanities. I’m not going to live somewhere that I’m afraid to even call the cops, for fear of what my neighbors might do after they receive their slap on the wrist from our “local law enforcement.” I can’t wait until moving day…

Let’s face it – Parker’s Landing is now officially a shithole. This morning I recalled first moving here, when I really had no rental history and barely even got accepted. It was the perfect place for me to live and I constantly got comments on how nice the community was – the freshly groomed landscaping, the quiet and relaxing atmosphere, and even the crazy bird lady who went through multiple loaves of Wonderbread feeding the ducks each week. I haven’t seen the crazy bird lady in months…and at this point, I figure that she either already moved out or, like many of us, is too scared to leave her apartment and counts down the days until her lease is finally up. We used to have a nice home here – young families with newborns, people walking their dogs at all hours of the day and night, and even older residents who just really liked the environment which we have here to enjoy. What in the hell happened to it?!

On our way to the car Saturday morning, I stopped to move the shards of a broken beer bottle off the middle of the sidewalk, knowing that children and small animals might not notice them. When we got to the parking lot, it became apparent that we simply didn’t have enough time in the day to pick up all of the trash and alcohol containers that had been strewn about – it looked like a pig sty, only people don’t pay nine grand a year to live in a pig sty. The porches and balconies of my neighbors have gone from storing beach toys and lawn chairs to empty pizza boxes and cases of beer, and I can’t remember the last time that I walked out to my car without wondering if I’d find one or more of the windows broken. Did I ever mention that after I renewed my lease on November 16th, only a week later – on Thanksgiving Day – there was a car stolen from our parking lot? Welcome home, my ass…

The worst part of it all is that I know that management can’t be held liable for the actions of my neighbors – they tell us to talk to the police, the police issue a friendly, little warning and direct us back to the leasing company, and we’re stuck living in a place where I wouldn’t direct my worst enemies. It’s about to the point where I’m ready to put all of my belongings into storage and move into a hotel until we can find a house, but we shouldn’t have to do that. We shouldn’t have to walk away from what used to be a beautiful place to live because management got lazy and started handing out leases to anybody that could come up with the rent money, regardless of how it’s actually earned. I shouldn’t have to waste time at work wondering if my place is being robbed during the afternoon or if Leslie’s finally going to say, “Sorry, but I can’t come over anymore – I just don’t feel safe there.” Friday evening I came home to her cooking me a wonderful dinner – now I have to worry that something could’ve happened that evening while I was stuck in traffic…

Saturday afternoon we finally met with Bill, our realtor, and got a good start at finding ourselves a new home. The bar was set high from the get-go because we first looked at a model for some pre-construction villas that are going up in New Tampa – very nice homes, but a little on the pricey side and I’ve yet to hear back from a bank that will finance me that much. We then looked at some townhomes that really seemed to be glorified apartments – in our price range, but just didn’t have that feel of home that one should get when plopping down $130,000. Nonetheless, the trip did give us a good example of what is currently on the market and from what we’ve been able to take it, it’s going to be a rat race up until those papers are actually signed. I’ll know more in the next couple of days when the banks decide once and for all how much I’ll be able to spend – I was just sent another link to a villa that has already been sold, but did fall into the given price range, so it is possible. I know that money is certainly going to be an issue, but now that things around here have officially gotten out of hand, I’m ready to take a few more drastic steps to get out.

Four more days until our trip to Disney…if only I didn’t have to worry about the happenings back home while we’re gone… 🙁

3 Responses to Enough is enough…

  1. You’re extremely close to convincing me to stay under Mom’s roof for a long, long time. You know, my husband and I can live in separate houses, pass the kid back and forth, fight over the pets…

  2. scott says:

    Husband? Baby?! Pets?!?!?!

    In all seriousness, though, these kinds of things do happen sometimes and you just have to deal with them. My first year of living here was great, but unfortunately there was no way to predict management changing and a band of idiots moving in. Things started changing about a month after I renewed the lease – nothing to do but step away and get on with life…

  3. Looking at the punctuation, it’s kind of funny that pets is more of a shock and an issue than a baby.

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