Elderly Woman Suffers from Neighbors’ Constant Parties and Insults — Takes Her Revenge

How do you deal with your noisy neighbors? I know I should probably not have reacted the way I did, but honestly, Shouting until 3 a.m.? What did they expect? Anyway, here's how I went about dealing with my neighborly dispute.

I'm Martha, a 64-year-old with a lifetime's worth of stories, a bit of a knack for crochet, and unfortunately, a collection of chronic illnesses and sleep disorders that keep me company in my city flat. Life here has been mostly peaceful, punctuated by the occasional honk of city traffic or the distant laughter of night revelers. That was until the idiots moved in upstairs. Yes, idiots. I'm old, not dead. I'm going to be mean if they can't keep the noise down at night.

The previous tenants were as quiet as church mice. We barely knew they were there. But these new folks, well, they burst onto the scene with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Their inaugural bash happened on a Friday, which I generously assumed was a flat-warming party. "Everyone deserves a celebration," I murmured to myself, trying to drown out the thumps and shouts with a pillow over my head.

But then came Saturday. And another party. This time, fueled by frustration and lack of sleep, I marched upstairs and banged on their door, only to be greeted by a sneer and called an "old ugly witch." I retreated, my spirit a little crushed, but not defeated.

By Sunday evening, with the loud music and shouting showing no signs of stopping, I called the council noise team, who in turn called the police. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday – the pattern continued, with a brief respite on Thursdays only to dive back into chaos come Friday. This wasn't just a disruption; it was a siege on my sanity.

The situation escalated when they began leaving their trash near my flat door, hurling insults whenever our paths crossed. I felt like I was back in high school, but instead of bullies, I had grown adults tormenting me.

One early morning, around 4 a.m., I was jolted awake by their shouting down to someone in the street, followed by the unmistakable sound of keys clattering to the ground. Peering out the window, I saw a rather pathetic scene unfold – their attempt to let friends in had failed spectacularly.

Later that day, as fate would have it, I found a bunch of keys lying on the sidewalk. Among them was a pre-payment electric key. "For safekeeping," I told myself, pocketing them with a mischievous glint in my eye.

The following evening, as I arrived home, I encountered a group frantically searching the bushes for the keys. Offering a casual "Hi" and a smile, I walked past, my heart dancing with silent glee. From my balcony, I eavesdropped on their growing desperation, learning that their electric meter was running dangerously low.

Two days passed in blissful silence. My conscience, however, wasn't as quiet. It nagged at me, whispering that keeping the keys wasn't right. So, I devised a plan that would satisfy both my conscience and my sense of justice.

I took the keys, buried them in a sea of glitter, and sealed them in an envelope addressed to “the idiots” upstairs. I knew that without postage, the Royal Mail would leave a note, forcing them to retrieve their sparkly surprise from the post office.

The aftermath was sweeter than I could have imagined. Not long after my glittery dispatch, the landlord, having been made aware of the ceaseless noise complaints and disturbances, evicted the troublesome tenants. The owner of the property, now in the loop, encouraged us to call her directly with any issues. I can only imagine the number of 3 a.m. calls she received.

In the end, peace returned to my little corner of the city. As I sit here, sipping my tea and knitting in the quiet of my flat, I can’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. I may be 64, with my share of ailments and a preference for early nights, but I'll be damned if I let anyone walk all over me. After all, age has its perks – wisdom, experience, and a finely honed sense of revenge.

Here's another story about a woman who was constantly kept awake by her neighbor who was having an affair. Find out how she dealt with the situation below.

Neighbor's Affair with Married Man Prevents Me from Sleeping - I Found His Name & Took Action

In August 2023, an anonymous poster turned to the "Petty Revenge" subreddit to share their story. They began by acknowledging the morally gray nature of their actions but stood firm in their lack of remorse. The Original Poster's (OP) upstairs neighbor had engaged in a four-month-long affair with a married man, a fact that wouldn't typically bother them.

However, the disruptive nature of their rendezvous at odd hours of the night, accompanied by audibly passionate encounters, seemed to interfere with OP's sleep. "How do I know it's an affair? He's never spent the night and his car has baby car seats in there," said OP of their upstairs neighbor's secret lover.

OP revealed additional context, detailing a history of discord with their upstairs neighbor preceding the revelation of the affair. The neighbor, a 40-year-old woman, routinely hosted parties on Monday nights and exhibited disruptive behavior by returning home at 2 a.m., pacing her condo, and engaging in boisterous phone conversations.

Responding to inquiries about their investigative method, OP clarified that they utilized a website called Infotracer to uncover the address.

Living a lifestyle seemingly incongruent with her age, she not only organized parties with individuals in their 20s but also participated in extramarital affairs. Despite OP's attempt at a reasonable conversation to voice a few concerns, the neighbor remained apathetic, compelling OP to involve the building's authorities to curb the disruptive behavior. This ongoing conflict intensified the disdain OP harbored toward the troublesome neighbor.

In pursuit of resolution, OP took matters into their own hands to unravel the identity of the mysterious man disrupting their nights. Employing investigative tactics, they traced the license plate, eventually discovering the man's address.

Further inquiries revealed a name, prompting OP to delve into social media, where they unearthed profiles belonging to the man and his wife. With newfound information in hand, OP created a throwaway account and confronted the wife about the ongoing affair.