Curbed Horror Stories are firsthand reader reports about terrible apartment experiences past and present. Got a Curbed Horror Story of your own? Send it to firstname.lastname@example.org.
"I was living in a junior-4 apt in Forest Hills. I had this crazy cat lady living above me who played insanely loud music every Saturday, all day long. It was so loud, that you could hear it from the ground floor lobby and she was on the 5th floor. At first I would take my fucking broom and bang on the ceiling till the paint started coming off. When that didn’t work, I would go up there and bang on her door. She would open the door with her crazy red frizzy hair and would ignore my pleas. Sometimes, I would go up there with my baseball bat, just for effect. I tried calling the super, the management company, the police, and it would never work. Finally...
One day my friend told me I should just take some fresh dog shit and smear her door with it during the middle of the night. We wrote “shut the fuck up” with it all over her door. I found out from the person living across from her that she actually laughed “like a witch” when she saw it, and even took some off her door and wrote “NO” in response. She found it amusing. Crazy fucking lady. I got out of my lease and moved out 2 months later."
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