Noise! Noise! Noise!

DJC and I hate our downstairs neighbors. They are the rudest sort of people. You know, the kind of people that let their kids scream at the top of their lungs at all hours, speak in obnoxious, outside voices at all hours, talk on the phone in obnoxious, outside voices at all hours, leave their cigarette butts EVERYWHERE (we refer to the man as "Big Tobacco"), and, did I mention that they let their kids run out of control morning, noon and night? They don't talk to each other the way other civilized humans do. They yell. The slam doors. It sounds like the kids bounce each other off of the walls. The kids are fat and hardly ever go outside to play. Instead, playtime consists of hours of video games played at ear-shattering volumes. The kids are overfed, overrested, and understimulated. AND LOUD.

The four of them basically act like they're the only ones living in the building and couldn't care less about how much noise or commotion they create. At 7:45am on a Sunday, its easy to see how DJC and I want to do unspeakable things to these people and their devil spawn.

We've tried everything to get them to understand that their noise really bothers us. We've knocked on their door at 8am on the weekends (in my nightshirt and Uggs, no less), we've written them letters politely asking for them to keep it down. Unfortunately, there's a huge language barrier...like Mt. Everest in size. Figuring that we weren't getting anywhere with them, we began complaining to the property management company every month when we dropped off our rent. Thankfully, the property management ladies, K and P, are super nice and totally sympathetic to our issues. They've sent letters to the family and made several phone calls about the levels of noise. Still, nothing has changed. The family gets a slap on the wrist, but they know that they don't really have to change because the management company can't really do anything.

This month, when I went in to pay the rent as I usually do, K asked me how things are going at the house. I told her that there was no change and she casually mentioned that there was now a legitimate reason for them to evict our downstairs nightmares. Apparently, they're behind on their rent. From what I could gather from K's vague description, quite a bit behind. They pay what they can every month, but its never the full amount. K was thrilled to finally get rid of these people and when she talked to the landlord about her planned course of action, the Quiet Train stopped dead in its tracks. The landlord stated that she wanted the family to stay, because with the state of the economy, she'd rather have some money coming in than none at all.

Holy shit. My mouth fell open. Everyone's going through hard times right now, including myself. Can I only pay what I feel I can for rent month after month? NO WAY. We'd be thrown out on our asses. But these people are now getting away with making as much noise as they want while paying less than the full amount for rent. I was fucking floored. There was a legit reason to get them out, but nooooooooooo. What kind of world is it that we live in where people get away with only paying "what they can" for rent? That's not how it works. If you can't make the full payment, you're out. Why should they get a break and not us, too?

There's nothing we can do. We can't reason with them and the property managers can't throw them out. Sweet.

I was so upset after my visit to the management company that I went grocery shopping and came home with gummy bears, gummy worms, frozen pizza, two chocolate donuts, and two packages of Crystal Light iced tea (WTF?!). Like somehow, all these junk food items would make the earlier hour go away. FAIL. DJC and I just don't know what to do from here. Move out, so that the landlord will lose money either way? Go downstairs with a roll of duct tape and tell the family how its gonna be from here on out? Help!!