When I moved to my home five years ago, I purposely chose the top floor.
I had lived on the second floor in my last condo and despite the fact I absolutely loved my neighbors, there is something to be said for having someone walking over your head.
On the south side, that wasn’t a problem.
I was also fortunate to not have hard core smokers for neighbors either.
Sure, someone might light up a cigarette here or a clove there; on occasion something stronger would make a special guest appearance on the weekend or during a party.
But it wasn’t a chronic situation.
That all changed with the departure of two of my neighbors to continue their lives with their new mates.
Because smoke rises and I live on the top floor, when you so much fry and piece of bacon in our building the aroma comes my way.
Hell, I can probably even tell you when you had that bad boy in the skillet.
When I don’t have some type of cold or sinus infection, the sniffer is dead on.
Unfortunately this can be a draw back when you have people that live below you that have a difference outlook on recreational pot smoking.
On it’s face, I really don’t give a damn if you want to blaze it up---just don’t let your smoking affect my quality of life.
In short, I don’t want to smell it---at all, ever.
Some of my other neighbors are so circumspect that I had no idea they “smoked” until they mistakenly opened their door to answer my knocks.
I was mildly shocked.
Not because they smoked but because they were so good about concealing the fact.
Ever since my downstairs neighbor moved out, my place has smelled like varying degrees of bad bong water.
The first set of neighbors weren’t that bad with their smoking but you did notice the uptick of the pot smell in the hallway.
At first I thought they were bad but now, I truly know what bad is.
My current downstairs neighbors smoke so much; it’s easier for me to tell you when they don’t smoke as opposed to when they do.
I get up very early in the morning and on most days either my living room or dining room smell like a blunt.
Don’t even get me started about the smell when I come home from work.
Words cannot describe how vastly unhappy this makes me.
Can you imagine if someone in my building tries to sell and a prospective buyer comes in with the hallway smelling like a college frat party?
This ain’t good.
Monday, November 20, 2006
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