The Missing Link

I wouldn’t have been searching for an apartment at all had it not been for the monstrous, missing link-baboon body-double cretin (hereinafter referred to as MLB) that moved into the apartment next door to me. I apologize to the baboon community; to call the thing a baboon is a major insult to primates everywhere. Maybe Neanderthal/Cro-Magnon is a better description, although he (“it” seems more appropriate) could only hope to rise to that level.  My next door neighbor  the baboon  Aka missing link. Until the missing link lumbered into my building, I thought that hearing other peoples’ earsplitting, irritatingly dull conversations, mating calls and triple x rated moans of delight (ugh), was an urban legend people laughed at during comedies about NYC. Two white noise machines later, the sounds were still there, and repeatedly jarred me awake with hideous grunts of baboon passion. Even the woman across the hall heard him, over her blasting rock concert decibel level stereo. No need to watch Animal Planet: I got to hear the sounds of a rhinoceros in heat. Knowing what Mr. and Ms Baboon looked like- Brangelina, they weren’t- made it so much worse. He exited his apartment backwards, making it easy to imagine a red, hairy baboon butt, draped in a short black parka, every time the door opened. Even his keys made noise. He walked like an elephant; my floor rattled. He banged on the wall; my pictures shook. I complained to the Super who offered the following words of comfort: “He’s a tenant, too.” I thought, “OK pal, when you come around for your Christmas tip, I’ll send you next door to Mr. Tenant too.” The property owners didn’t care what the tenants did, so long as they paid the rent. They refused to evict a lunatic who kept pigeons, roaches and rats as pets. They finally got rid of her when she stopped paying rent after 6 months. With the economy in the toilet, coupled with the management company working with brokers whose acceptance criteria was excellent credit, a bank account and 1 opposable thumb to sign the monthly checks, I didn’t stand a chance of getting rid of this monster.