Thursday, March 24, 2011
There was a time when I wondered what it must have been like to communicate before Alexander Graham Bell blessed the world with his invention, the telephone. Of course that was until I moved into these apartments. I now have complete compassion for Fred Flinstone. I've had a glimpse into the life of a caveman's struggles for silence. Bam! Bam! Stomp! Stomp! Beep Beep! (okay beep beep isn't cave man mayhem but still) My upstairs neighbors communicate via window and fire alarm. That's right. They open the hallway window and scream across to neighbors and friends, (which wouldn't be too bad if it weren't all day long) and rather then them walking downstairs to my other neighbors to say "Hey, what's up?" They set off the fire alarm in the hallway which is apparently code for "I'm too lazy to walk down and knock". So, when I open my door to make sure someone hasn't been playing with matches they just smile and say "Oh, I was just trying to get someone's attention". While I'm thinking I wish I had Bam Bam's club so I could break out a little cave woman on their ignorance. The crazy thing is they have cell phones. When do they use them? While they are outside in the parking lot blaring the car stereo, that's when it's gratifying enough for them to throw caution to the wind and dial a number.