Hypothetically speaking, if I were to buy you a sound machine, would you prefer Seaside Breezes or Amazon Rainforest?

Chère Madame L,

It’s me, the loud American who lives upstairs.

I hope that you enjoyed the peace and quiet what with my being in the United States for so long.  C’etait calme, non?

I’m writing to you because I’ve been thinking about that evening in November when we ran into each other by the boites aux lettres.  I knew something was wrong, not because you TOLD me something was wrong, but because you looked like you had just sucked on a lemon with a mouth full of canker sores.  Which, as far as facial expressions go, speaks pretty clearly.

Remember?  I said, “Bonsoir, Madame L.  Are you doing well?”  I stared, waiting for your response.  You stared back, sucking on a lemon.  I was starting to get the idea you weren’t doing well.  Then you lowered your chin and said, “What kind of shoes do you wear around your apartment?”  It was like blurting out to the stinky guy pressed next to you on the metro, “What kind of deodorant do you use?”  I felt like a perpetrator charged with criminal intent. 

OKAY, IT’S TRUE. YOU CAUGHT ME--sometimes I do actually wear shoes in my own apartment.  And sometimes, I have a few friends over, and they wear shoes, too.  So that, on occasion, I have been known to have maybe 22-26 individual shoed feet going ALL AT ONCE.  But have you noticed that since the night of our chat I have developed mad skills for TIPTOEING IN HEELS BEFORE I GO OUT THE DOOR?  (Which, for the record, is no easy task).

Then, you mentioned that, come to think of it, you don’t enjoy hearing the noise made by my chairs sliding on my floor, either. Ça gratte, you said, squinting your eyes and rubbing your palms together, one on top of the other, to demonstrate.  And I was thrown for a second, because, gosh, am I supposed to rig up a pulley that will allow me to lower my body into my chair without moving it?  Or perhaps I should fix the chairs to the ground permanently, at  full arm's-length distance from the table, therein rendering sliding unnecessary?  It was a little bit tricky, this problem, but I am glad you brought it up because WE CAN DEFINITELY SOLVE IT AND I WILL TELL YOU HOW IN JUST ONE SEC.

Now, we’re getting to the real purpose of this letter, which is to share a few points in my defense that I would have expressed on that night in November if it weren’t for my tendency to lose all reason when under critical attack for shoe-wearing:

1.  Do you know that I whisper on the phone if I receive a call after 11pm--I’m sure you didn’t know that because I'm so quiet NOT EVEN THE PERSON WHO’S PAYING 15 CENTS A MINUTE TO CALL ME FROM THE US CAN HEAR ME.

2.  I like to watch T.V. late at night when I can’t sleep, keeping the volume so low, I have to sit all the way down at the foot of my bed (at a proximity that I can only assume is damaging to my vision).

3.  I only play music in the following circumstances: 
    A.  You are watching T.V.
    B.  You are not home.
    C.  I think it’s something you would like, and it’s nowhere near bedtime.  (I would really love to expose you to The Flaming Lips and Interpol, but I just don't think we're there yet).

4.  You are pretty lucky that I have Jeanne's apartment next door for entertaining, because game night can get ROWDY.  That's all I'm saying. 

Okay, I feel better now. 

Oh yes, my genius chair-sliding solution.  In the spirit of communication, mutual-sympathy, and starting the year off on the right foot, I’m buying a rug.  (This, even though, A. I’m poor, and B. it will mean hauling it up FIVE FLIGHTS OF STAIRS). 

You see, I want things back where they were when I first moved into the building and you used to smile at me in the stairwell and tell me I had du courage when I went out to jog in the cold morning.   It was nice to see you smile.

Or maybe you were just happy I was getting out of the apartment.

At any rate, hate to break it to you, but, I’M BAAAAAACK.  Although I guess you already heard.

Yours,
Coquette

Comments

[meg]

And THIS is the reason you were nominated for the Bloggies. HILARIOUS!

[hot toddy]

I'm so glad I found you through the Bloggies. Congratulations - you deserve the nomination!

[Mathieu]

Game night?

you're a gamer?

*1 million dollars' worth of hollywood sound effects to the effect of 'whirrrr' as an überkewldom meter goes madly spinning in its dial*

[Aimee]

Oh Mathieu! Too funny! I think Coquette was referring to her mad Balderdash skills. Halo 2, not so much.

[pismire]

Hilarious!

If only all noisy neighbors could be as considerate as you! Perhaps you could talk to my upstairs neighbors. They have a tendency to drop objects on their newly installed hardwood floors (sounds sort of like they are dropping large metal balls - and anyway, who owns large metal balls?). I think they should buy a carpet (or get rid of their balls).

[kim]

yeah, somehow I don't imagine Coquette invites her former fashionite coworkers over to play Vampire: The Masquerade, although that could be amusing.

The guy that lives above us doesn't seem to be much of a socialite (he's had three dinner parties in three years, so...), so we mostly just hear the claws of his dog when she jumps around, all excited when he gets home. However, there is one other thing we hear...

Him peeing. We can hear it whether we actually be in the WC, or the living room, or the bedroom (that's always sexy, waking up Saturday morning to the sound of a good, long piss).

Of course, we certainly can't go up there and ask him to pee more quietly, so instead we just use it as a punchline. Jokes about your neighbor peeing are great for getting laughs.

[Negrito]

Hi !!

I just wanted to tell you that all my friends are very happy to be invited to your party saturday. As agreed we'll arrive around 10, with one bottle of champagne per people. A few of them will bring music instruments - you know artists, eheh - . I limited the number of people to 45, but some might come with unexpected friends.Ah , important girls were warned : no Heels above 3 inches..

[Flare]

Hahahaa! I just laughed out loud at work and my Korean colleagues were looking at me with that sour lemon face. suckers!

Thank god my neighbor below is deaf. I run to my bathroom in the morning because it's located on the other end of the apt and because it's daaaaaaamn fun!

[Marilyn]

Hey, tell Madame L. she should consider herself lucky that you're not ROLLER SKATING...as my upstairs neighbors once did in their Victorian-with-hardwood-floors apartment in San Francisco. (I thought they were BOWLING.) I'd bet a million bucks she doesn't tiptoe around or whisper or keep her TV volume low. I say, crank it up, sister! You pay rent, too! :)

[Coquette]

Mathieu, as my sister Aimee so flippantly pointed out. My friends and I are not so ubercool. It's more like Trival Pursuit and Scrabble that get us riled up (or as I like to call it--Scrapple)

Kim, you are American, non? I am surprised you haven't considered legal action against this serial pee-er. He is clearly infringing upon your civil rights.

Negrito, I'm glad you reminded me--I need to rent some more chairs.

[kim]

coquette,

yeah, but it costs so much money. I think I need to take him to People's Court or something. Judge Wapner, here I come!

[Mathieu]

Actually, gals, I was thinking of roleplaying games. Female players of which are MUCH rarer than video-game players with curves.

Oh well. Scrapple is fine too. You play in French or in English?

[mango]

love livin' on the ground floor! i can hear my upstairs neighbor peeing too and he likes to kick box of those huge bags, but at least he doesn't have hard wood floors! ;)

[Auntie M]

We are thankful to be living on the first floor about a small grocery store. The stories people tell about neighbors complaining about the noise the kids make could stand your hair on end. In Paris, the general policy is after 7pm BE QUIET or expect a complaint from your grouchy neighbor. If someone has a party, a note is posted in the entryway apologizing for the disruption.

[SaraJane]

Oh Couqette! you are so funny! I laugh. I'm picturing your in "Amelie"'s apt in wooden clogs. Ha! Oh and in my mind you look like Amelie. Geez, I'm so sheltered Mid-western girl.

[Coquette]

Auntie M--I do find that notes go a long way in buying neighborly sympathy. I tried that on my birthday and one other occasion and didn't get any complaints.

SaraJane--I look EXACTLY like Audrey Tautou! Only prettier. ;) Actually, I have red curly hair, but that is OFFICIALLY THE CUTEST thing ever that you picture me that way!

[Sally]

I thoroughly enjoyed this entry. I know exactly what you are going through with your neighbor. In our old apartment here in Germany, our neighbors complained about us scooting chairs. I contemplated moving to the rain forest to study the snakes to learn how to slither out of my chairs without moving them. We knew we were not off to a good start when our neighbors came to complain about us on the very first day we were moving the furniture in. I guess we should have installed some hoisting system so that the furniture could just gently glide into space. Our neighbor finally went as far as to file a complaint with our landlord and claimed that his children (then twin one-year-olds) were sleep deprived due to our noise. We don't have kids, we never listed to the radio and I then worked at home as a translator. Maybe my keyboard was too loud? At any rate, we have since moved and are saving 330 euros and avoiding a lot of unnecessary stress. I hope you are able to cope.

[petite]

On the one hand I know that we make a horrendous racket on our parquet floors - I had to confiscate Tadpole's toy pushchair for the sake of my own sanity. The lady downstairs is very nice and said 'oh let her play, don't worry about me'. I nearly fainted so great was my amazement.

However, I did once bang on our ceiling when the guy from upstairs invited about 50 friends home at 5am for an impromptu house party. With dancing. And shoes on.

[Flare]

Your comments are like new blogs, I have to come back and read everyday to keep up.

Audry Tautou, totally... I can see that!

[Coquette]

WARNING! WARNING! The following comment that I originally made above was *dripping* in sarcasm: "I look just like Audrey Tatou. Only prettier ;)"

(Since we are getting together for coffee and all, Flarie-pooh, I just didn't want you to be disappointed WHEN YOU SEE THAT IN FACT I LOOK NOTHING LIKE AMELIE).

[Kathleen]

In all honesty, Coquette looks more like Debra Messing than Audrey Tatou, but comparisons to VIPs will just never capture that sparkle in her eye, the wide, white-toothed smile (Crest white strips, n'est ce pas?) or her incomparable personality. Coquette is one of a kind.

Congratulations, Coquette. You officially made me HURT with laughter with this entry. Oh, and definitely the Amazon rainforest sound machine. That is, unless "white noise" is up for discussion!

[Wildcat]

Hilarious post! What kind of biotch is this neighbor of yours anyway???
By the way, whoever's supplying the sound machine, you can send my Amazon Rainforest to...
(If it was a smell machine, I think I'd have to go with the Seaside Breezes.)

[Nathalie]

Maybe she's just bored and irritable during the dreary winter months! ;) I'm only infrequently irritated by the youngster in our building who's obviously recently discovered red cordial, but the pissing on the heads, I hate, hate hate! As myself and partner are soon moving to a top floor apartment I gleefully noted that our heads would no longer be pee'd on. 'No' stated Monsieur French 'Now it is us who will pee on the heads of others!' What a revolutionary...

[halfdusthalfdeity]

Yessss... I, too, had my own Madame L. when I lived in Paris years ago!! I fail entirely to see the charm in these judgemental old landladies. Unfortunately, I was not so eloquent when I finally lost it and heatedly hurled curse words at her--crystalizing her prejudice of the ugly american. My advice now: beat her at her own game. Remember that revenge is like a fine Reisling... it is best served COLD.

[chris]

i used to be madame L ... at one point i got so mad at my upstairs neighbor because not only was her loud shoe clomping and chair dragging endless, the two sounds started to get combined. i held my tongue for a few weeks till i couldn't stand it any more and called to ask her to please cool it. i felt so bad when she told me that she had broken her leg and was dragging her cast across the floor. aaiiiyyyyy!