Neighbours

neighbours

I live in a block of flats, and I've blogged before about the fact that our downstairs neighbours like to smoke out of the staircase window and then go back into their nice smoke free flat leaving ash all over the window-sill and the hail/rain/snow blowing into the hallway while the open window bangs against the wall. The other problem we have, which will be familiar to all flat-dwellers, is the bins. Our rubbish bags used to be left in a big pile by the back door, which was nice for the foxes and less nice for everyone else. We now have big wheelie bins in special enclosures, and recently we also got a recycling service that has a brown bin, green bags, and orange sacks to be left by our front doors.

This is evidently all a bit complicated for our neighbours. Several months after the bin enclosures were built people are still leaving their rubbish at the back door, where it won't be collected. They're also fond of leaving furniture, fridges, cardboard boxes etc, which don't get taken away. So now we have bin bags and random items by the back door, and recycling bags plus random items in the bin enclosure, and a great stack of letters from the managing agents instructing and threatening everyone. I'm deeply embarrassed to admit that I even went as far as phoning the agent (outside office hours so I didn't actually have to speak to anyone) and left an authoritative and articulate voicemail that went something like:

"um, I'm, um, from flat 23, er, we just rent but, er, well, there are bin bags being left by the doors and, er, I don't think people know where the, um, the , er, bin enclosures are because there aren't any signs and, um, well, lots of the people here aren't, um, well,, they're not that fluent in english, and your letters are, um, well, erm, not that easy to read or, erm, understand, and well I don't think they're reading them, maybe they don't get them or, er, understand them and, erm, well, ok, that's just it really..."