Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

28 October 2011

The Shouty McDeaferson's Upstairs

Dan can't hear.  Seriously.  He is completely deaf in one ear and partially deaf in the other.  

Long story short, dude can't hear shit. 

This means that we spend a LOT of time shouting at each other.  A LOT.  

Dan shouts because that's how he talks and I shout so he can hear me.  Which he can't, even when I shout.  Which leads to him shouting even louder because he seems to think that the louder he screams "WHAT???" at me, the more likely I am to speak up, because obviously, it's my fault that he can't hear me.  Of course.  But you knew that, right?

A typical exchange in our house goes like this:

Me:  *shouting from the living room to Dan in the bedroom, where he has the tv cranked up to 453724503847 decibels, which is drowning out whatever I'M watching in the living room (probably Deadly Women or Snapped! or both, using picture in picture)* "Hey, Dan?  Can you turn the tv down, please?"

Dan:  *shouting over the tv* "What?"

Me:  *louder*  "I said, can you turn the tv down please?"

Dan:  *wayyyyy out-louding MY loud*  "WHAT?"  

Me:  *yelling at the top of my lungs*  "CAN YOU PLEASE TURN DOWN THE TV!!"

Dan:  *getting pissed because he's deaf and can't hear me and as I said, that's my fault*  "I CAN'T HEAR YOU, DANI.  WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

Me:  *getting fed up and walking into the bedroom, where I bellow like a bull moose who just got shot by a tranquilizer dart*  "I SAID TURN DOWN THE FREAKING TELEVISION!"

Dan:  *instantly wounded and butthurt*  "You don't need to yell... Jesus, Dani!  We live in an apartment building.  Have a little consideration, for God's sake!! Why are you yelling at me?"

(The irony of this is that Dan's "indoor" voice is louder than my yelling voice, but obviously that's beside the point.  *eyeroll*)

Me:  *squelching the desire to leap upon him and beat him to death with my tiny bare fists*  "Why didn't you just turn down the tv when you realized you couldn't hear me?"

Dan:  *looking at me as if I'M the stupid one*  "Ummm... because I couldn't hear you and didn't know what you wanted?"


Me:  *with the patience of a friggin' sain't, yo... seriously, most people would have killed him by now*  "Wouldn't it make sense to turn down the freaking volume on the tv so you could hear me?"

Dan:  *because it's never his fault*  "Why didn't you just come in here in the first place instead of yelling at me from the living room?"

This is where we generally reach an impasse.

With as much complaining as I do about our downstairs neighbor, Mr. Awesome, I can't help but wonder if the extreme douchery works both ways.  I mean, he has his skank of the week, whom he bangs loudly on a regular basis, his loud karaoke parties that we aren't invited to (asshole), his music, which he cranks up so loudly that my furniture rattles, his motorcycle that he never rides but sits on and revs the engine for 45 minutes at least twice a week, his freaking CAR ALARM that goes off like clockwork every other day or so, and speaking of CLOCKS, his chiming clock that goes off EVERY 15 MINUTES...

Wait... what was my point again?

Oh yeah... he's a douche.

But I'm thinking that so are we.

Ponder, ponder...

Could it be?  Is it possible?  Do the real douche bags live upstairs?

Dan is LOUD.  And by "loud", I don't mean he makes a little too much noise.  I mean he walks loudly, he talks loudly, he laughs loudly, he farts loudly, he snores loudly... When Dan is in the apartment, his presence is known.  He is incapable of being quiet.  When he gets up in the middle of the night to pee, he stomps across the bedroom floor, walks into the door, trips over his own feet, curses and swears because he's pissing himself off, bumps and bangs his way into the bathroom where he crashes into the door, flips up the lid of the toilet and smashes it into the tank... And then he repeats the process on his way  back to bed.

Which is why I always know... ALWAYS... if Dan got up in the middle of the night to pee.  And I'm pretty sure Mr. Awesome knows, too.

(And there is the sliiiiight possibility that I've made a little noise, myself.  Maybe.)

And his "telephone" voice... Oh God help me.  I refuse to let him answer his cell in public places because he literally YELLS into the phone.  

Dan is so loud he echoes.

But he doesn't realize it.

He does, however, always realize it when I'M being too loud.  Imagine that.  And he points it out.  Loudly.  

Earlier this evening, we had this brilliant conversation:

My oven door came off the hinges this afternoon when I opened it to bake an apple crisp.  I slipped it back on, which seemed to work, and promptly forgot about it.  Well, tonight, after I finished the dishes and was washing the counters, I noticed the oven door was still a little askew again.

I opened it, slid it into the hinges, and shut it.

Dan, from the bedroom:  "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?"

Me:  "I was putting the oven door back on the hinges."


(I love that my neighbors know how big of an ass I am.  Dan thinks he's being funny when he says this to me, along with "You're a LYING ASS!" if I tell him something he doesn't want to hear, or when he informs me that I'm an asshole. They probably think I'm the LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.)

Me:  *because I AM Mrs. Captain Obvious*  "Your yelling is wayyyy louder than my oven door rehinging.  Just an F to the Y to the I."

Dan:  "Oh bullshit."


And then there's the tv.

Watching tv with Dan makes me want to slit my wrists.

It goes like this:

We will sit down together to watch something that we've recorded.  All is well, all is happy, I'm laughing softly to myself and appreciating the fine, fine comedy that is Friends...

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *hitting pause and telling him what was said*

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *hitting pause and telling him what was said*

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Me:  *throwing the remote at him*  "HERE... JUST TURN IT UP SO YOU CAN HEAR IT!!!  GODDDDDD!!!"

Dan:  *giving me his "you're mean" look*  "Never mind... just watch the show."

5 seconds later:

Dan:  "What did they say?"

Ad nauseum.

I shudder to think of our retirement... Dan is going to be walking around without a hearing aid, shouting at everyone because he can't hear himself, while I frantically sign at him to shut the hell up.  (Thank goodness I know sign language... I've been trying to teach it to him.  In the 10 years we've been together all he's learned is "I Love You" and "More" but I have high hopes.)  


  1. Ken does the same thing when he goes to the bathroom, and it's like, 10 steps from his side of the bed. Our bathrooms in this apartment building are the worst because there's no insulation to speak of and I can hear everything the neighbors are saying within earshot of their bathroom door and vice-versa.

    And we live in a security locked building with locks at the hallway door and our front door. So there's a good 50 yards from our front door to the bottom of the stairs at the building entrance...and yet the cat and I can hear him coming from the first step. The stomping is like a combination of lumberjack and Clydesdale, followed by the jingling of 60 keys in the first lock, and more clomping. He'll repeat the key jingle for our lock, only he'll drop the keys, knock his backpack into the door when he retrieves them, and then make a big show about unlocking the deadbolt.

    Then he wonders why the cat and I are both sitting there giving him the same look when he finally opens the door.

  2. Bwaaaaaa!! That describes Dan's entrance into the apartment perfectly, only he adds dropping the 15 tupperware containers that I send his breakfast and lunch to work in, because for some reason it never occurs to him to leave them in the bag I put them in and bring them home in that. Oh no... it makes MUCH more sense to carry them in your hands, along with your keys, coat, cellphone, and wallet, because that way you can repeatedly drop them as you're coming up the stairs.

  3. 1st. Love the new pic...

    2nd. You're neighbor used to live above me. I was glad he moved but really sorry you got stuck with him...

    3rd. Does Dan have a large life insurance policy?

  4. Sadly, Dan is worth more alive than dead. Wait... I mean, Dan is happily worth more alive than dead. Wait wait... I mean, I never think about Dan dying and cashing in on his life insurance... never!!!

    Ummm... can I send Mr. Awesome back to you? Kthanksbye...

  5. Ah, apartment living. Innit grand?

    My husband's inside voice is a pretty normal level. However, even though we've lived in our place for several years, he always has problems unlocking the door. Why? Who knows, but he fumbles, loudly, in our echo-y hall with the keys every night. He works weird hours, so I'm sure our neighbors are just thrilled to hear him trying to figure out how to unlock the door at three or four in the morning. Not that I care, because our neighbors are idiots.

  6. I keep trying to convince the hubs to get his hearing checked because he is getting older and I am convinced he is going deaf. He listens to the TV at like MAX CAPACITY and I'm like, dude, the people 3 houses down know the score to the game now. And he looks at me like I'M the crazy one. Like he just doesn't understand what the problem is. You are making ME deaf with the EXTREME VOLUME is the fucking problem. Damn!


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