The man upstairs is an axe murderer

I watched Colombo religiously at University, so I’d like to think I know a fair bit about criminal instincts. I’ve convinced myself that the man who lives above me is, a murderer. For a start there is constant banging noises, endless arguments and a stream of women coming and going. And then there is his garage, he spends far too much time in there and is always dragging bags around. Okay, maybe he is not a murderer, but it makes all the noises from upstairs that bit more bearable.

Subconsciously I know more about this person than I really want to know. I know he uses a rowing machine, at seven o’clock for twenty minutes. I know he has got wooden floorboards, I can tell that every time he walks anywhere in his flat. I know what bus his girlfriend gets, I know what make of dye she uses in her hair. I can hear her shout it in the bathroom. I know which television station he likes, and I guess he has probably got an expensive surround sound system set up. I know he likes dance music, well hard thrashing techno to be more precise. But probably most disturbingly is that if I’m having a bath sometimes I can hear he is running one as well. Yes, that one is particularly off putting whilst I try and read my book.

But hey. I try to make the half empty glass a little more half full. There are benefits. If he is watching a particularly good programme on t.v, I can then tune in myself to watch the picture as well as the sound, it’s like having an extra t.v guide up there. And music. Sometimes I don’t even have to turn my stereo on, he does it for me. Despite the muffled sound caused by the ceiling, I can normally hear all the lyrics. Who needs to be watching Jerry Springer when I’ve got my own live shouting match upstairs, I mean quotes like “Go away, you bore me, I don’t like you, just leave me alone” do provide me with a little bit of entertainment.

To be fair, I have lived in places that were much worse. I remember being woken up by a man snoring below me every night three years go. I could actually hear the conversations of my two neighbours either side of me. Sometimes I felt like shouting to the girl up above to wake up, her alarm was going off every ten minutes after seven.

One day I’ll get a house, but it won’t be half as interesting.