My new neighbor is pregnant, and she’s demanding I run my air conditioner 24/7. “I don’t have an AC, and I don’t want to hang out at your place all day,” she declared. “Just set yours to 60 degrees. The cold air will blow over to my apartment. It’s not like it affects you.” I patiently tried to explain the concept of heat exchange to her—that even with my door wide open, her apartment wouldn’t get much cooler. I also mentioned that air conditioners weren't that expensive and she could easily have one installed. She wouldn’t hear it. “Do you think air conditioners are free? Are you going to pay my electric bill?” she snapped. “I don’t care. I’m carrying a child, and if my baby boy overheats, I’ll sue you for attempted murder!” It was like talking to a brick wall, so I gave up. But she didn't. She started by banging on my door around the clock. Then, while I was away on a business trip, she pried open my lock and ran my air conditioner for seven days straight. It was right around then that I saw a viral rental post in my city’s online forum. [I smashed every AC unit in my building and nearly burned the place down with my wood stove. Now I’ve been kicked out.] [A delicate wife-to-be with a naturally cold constitution, trying to conceive. Urgently need a home where I can use my wood stove! Seeking apartment for rent!] I contacted the delicate wife-to-be immediately. If I couldn't handle my neighbor myself, I’d find an equally unhinged person to do it for me. Let the dogs fight it out. 1. I had just gotten home when the knocking started again. I put in my earplugs and pretended I couldn’t hear a thing. A week ago, a couple moved into apartment 401, right across the hall. While they were moving in, the woman, flushed and sweating, asked if she could step inside for a minute to cool off. That one act of kindness was my undoing. That very evening, she and her husband tried to invite themselves over to enjoy my AC. Considering she was pregnant, I was polite at first. I explained that I lived alone and it wasn't convenient to have them over all the time. I suggested, once again, that they buy their own unit. Her response was stunning. “Do you think air conditioners are free? Are you going to pay my electric bill?” she scoffed. “I’m not even worried about you trying to seduce my husband. You’re the one being dramatic.” The entitlement was staggering. I stopped trying to reason with her, but she banged on my door for the entire night. It only got crazier. While I was at work, she would call my office, demanding I come home and turn on the air. After I blocked her number, she started having the building management call me. I even called the police, but they dismissed it as a simple neighborly dispute they couldn't resolve. The knocking grew louder, and her shrill voice pierced through my earplugs. “402! I saw you come home! Open this door right now, my baby has been hot all day!” I ignored her, hoping she’d eventually get tired and go home. Suddenly, a synthesized voice echoed in the hall: Password incorrect. She was trying to guess the code to my electronic lock. After three failed attempts, the lock’s alarm blared. Shaking with rage, I screamed through the door, “What the hell is wrong with you? Will you ever stop?!” But she didn't. As soon as the alarm silenced, she started punching in codes again. Because the errors were in quick succession, this time the alarm shrieked for a full ten minutes. The building’s group chat lit up. [Whose alarm is that? Is someone breaking in?] [My grandson just fell asleep and it woke him up! He won't stop crying. Can management do something?!] [I think it's coming from downstairs. This is 502. Can someone from management please check it out?] Then my phone rang. It was the building manager. To avoid disturbing my neighbors any further, I had no choice but to open the door. “I knew you were in there,” she said with a triumphant smirk. “Let me in, quick. My baby is about to overheat.” I blocked the doorway with my body. “If you’re hot, that’s your problem to solve.” “And I’ve let you in during the day before. You can’t just camp out in my apartment forever.” Her voice suddenly rose to a shriek. “Camp out? How dare you! You have some nerve.” “You’re the one who invited me in! I’ve gone my whole life without AC, and I was fine! But you had to let me taste it, and now I can’t even stand being in front of a fan!” “I’m pregnant! My baby needs air conditioning! You started this, so you have to fix it!” I was speechless with fury. I pulled out my phone and opened the Amazon app. “The cheapest units are a few hundred bucks. You could have one installed by tomorrow.” She slapped my hand away impatiently. “I told you, I don’t have money for that! Ugh, I’m done arguing with you.” “From now on, you will leave your air conditioner on 24/7, set your door open. That way, the cold air will reach my apartment.” She even added, “Set it to 60 degrees, otherwise it won’t be cool enough.” I fought the urge to strangle her, taking a deep breath instead. “That’s not how AC works! It’s about heat exchange. My door being open won’t magically cool your apartment!” She completely ignored me. “What do you mean it won’t work? The cold air comes into my apartment, my apartment gets cool. Simple.” There was no getting through to her. I slammed the door in her face. “402, if you don’t open this door, I’ll make your life a living hell!” She started messing with my lock again. Three more failed attempts. This time, the alarm wailed for half an hour. The group chat exploded with complaints. People were starting to gather outside my door. As the angry messages scrolled past, I’d had enough. I uploaded the security footage from my doorbell camera to the chat. A few minutes later, apartment 401 was being tagged by a dozen furious neighbors. [@401 Brenda What is wrong with you?! It’s the middle of the night! You’ve woken up my kids three times!] [@401 Brenda Are you trying to break in? Did you lose what little brain you have?] [@401 Brenda @Management Can you please handle this woman?!] Brenda went completely silent. I thought I could finally get some sleep. I never imagined she would actually call the police. 2. Before I could even process what was happening, my front door was forced open by the police. Brenda leaped out from behind a line of uniformed officers, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Officers, that’s her! She’s trying to murder my baby!” “Arrest her! Take her away!” I stared at my splintered door lying on the floor, a hysterical laugh bubbling in my throat. I recounted the entire night’s events to the police, my voice shaking. “Officer, she’s the one who has been harassing me, demanding I set my AC to 60 degrees and aim it at her apartment.” Brenda cut in. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? I don’t have an AC! If I can’t use hers, whose can I use?” The officers exchanged bewildered glances. What they thought was a potential crime scene had devolved into a bizarre neighborhood dispute mediation. After getting the full story, the lead officer stepped forward. “Ma’am,” he said to Brenda, “whether this young lady decides to run her own air conditioner is really none of your business.” Brenda puffed out her stomach. “How is it not your business?! If she doesn’t open her door and turn on her AC, I’m the one who suffers! What if my baby and I get heatstroke? I read online that people can die from that!” She glared at the cops. “What kind of public servants are you? So high and mighty, you don’t care about us regular people at all!” Now it was the officers’ turn to be speechless. The lead officer’s tone hardened. “Ma’am, if you continue with this irrational behavior, we’re going to have to take you down to the station.” That sent Brenda over the edge. She clutched her belly and plopped down on my broken door. “Take me to the station? You’re all in on it together!” she shrieked. “I knew it! You listen to her side for two seconds and you’re already defending her, even though she’s trying to kill my baby.” She shot me a venomous look. “No wonder a woman like you lives alone in such a big place without a man. You’ve probably got a whole stable of them on the side. Is that why you wouldn’t let me in? Were you hoping my husband would come over by himself? You shameless slut.” Her eyes swept over every officer in the room. My hands were trembling with rage. The officers looked equally furious. They had mobilized an entire unit in the middle of the night for a false alarm, and now they were being slandered by the perpetrator. The lead officer’s face was grim. “Ma’am, you have now committed three offenses,” he said, his voice like steel. “Insulting a police officer, filing a false report, and intentional destruction of property.” “You’re coming with us. You’re looking at a minimum of 10 days in holding and a significant fine.” The color drained from Brenda’s face. But she clutched her belly and screamed, “I’m not going to any station! I’m pregnant! The government wants me to have this baby! Taking me in is like defying the country itself!” She started thrashing around, threatening to jump out the window if they tried to take her. The police weren’t having it. They swiftly detained her. A locksmith sent by the police repaired my door. Between the damages and compensation, Brenda ended up paying me $250. Enough to buy her own damn air conditioner. As they led her away, she turned and fixed me with a look of pure, venomous hatred. A look that promised she would get her revenge. 3. I heard Brenda was held for the full ten days. I was so grateful, I sent a thank-you platter to the police station. A week later, my company sent me on a two-week business trip. When I got back, my door was gone. A blast of cold air was pouring out of my apartment. The door to 401 was wide open, and Brenda waddled out, clutching her belly. “There you are! I had to hire someone to take your door off the hinges. What a pain!” she grumbled. “And by the way, is your AC broken? I’ve had it running for days, but my place is still hot. You need to buy a new one!” My chest tightened with fury. I pointed at the empty space where my front door used to be. “Do you have any idea how illegal this is?” Brenda rolled her eyes. “That $250 I gave you was for the door, wasn’t it? And your electricity. At a few bucks a day, I’ve paid for five or six years of your AC!” The audacity was breathtaking. I didn’t even bother arguing. I just pulled out my phone and dialed 911. The two officers who responded were the same ones from before. The moment they saw us, their faces tightened. “Officers, she removed my door. While I was gone, she entered my home and used my air conditioner. I’ll have to check my security footage to see what else she did.” After a quick assessment, the police told Brenda she would have to compensate me. Brenda just snorted. “Compensate her for what? I already gave that bitch $250! That’s enough to use her AC for years!” “And I’ll have you know, my husband is on a top-secret mission for the government! When he gets back, little cops like you will be on your knees before him!” The officers looked utterly exhausted by her. One of them cuffed her while the other said dryly, “Sure, ma’am. I’ll be waiting.” Brenda was hauled off to the station once again. But after that night, things got worse. Garbage started appearing outside my door. At first, it was just a small bag. Then it was kitchen scraps, rotting food. One time, there was even feces mixed in. Worse, Brenda started pouring spoiled soup and other sticky, foul-smelling liquids under my door. Every time I came home, the combination of trash and heat turned my entryway into a biohazard zone. The stench seeped into my apartment, and no amount of air freshener could get rid of it. I called the police, but Brenda would just sit by her open window and threaten to jump, screaming that they were persecuting an innocent citizen. Eventually, the police gave up, telling us to resolve it ourselves and to stop wasting their resources on "minor issues." Building management was equally useless. Desperate, I posted on an online forum, hoping for a solution. As I was scrolling, I stumbled upon a popular local rental ad. [I dismantled every AC unit in my building. Now the other residents have kicked me out.] [A delicate wife-to-be with a naturally cold constitution, trying to conceive. Urgently need a home without air conditioning! Seeking apartment for rent!]
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