#23 Tammy the Tattletale

As I mentioned in the last post, my building is in the shape of a rectangle with half the units facing out and the other half facing in, where their view is looking through the windows of other units. It's not a great view. Sound travels and bounces against the walls in the interior court. If a baby is talking by an open window, everyone with an open window can hear it. It's especially annoying when people have parties. I get babies crying about interior neighbor noise, as this is the mundane awfulness that I have to deal with on the daily.

There is a girl named Tammy that lives in the interior that has recently found out my email, and has decided to bitch about everything. She's the one that complained about the smell of her neighbor below her that is grilling on his patio, and the smell and smoke of the grill goes into her unit. She has become the building tattletale. She's also found out when I get enough complaints about a baby and their noise, I have to slip them a warning and then fine them after a second offense.
Tammy has taken it upon herself to be the interior unit police, emailing me at any point in time whenever she hears a noise that bothers her and telling me to fine them. She's emailed me at all times, like 7pm to 2am, or whatever time she hears a disturbance. Tammy has become oversensitive and obsessive with noise. I found her on my floor the other day because she was investigating a noise she heard. When speaking to her about it, her dog peed in the hall.
"I'll clean that" she says. (I checked back a few minutes later, and she did).

Tammy isn't a bad person. She's just irritating. Here is a snippet from one of her long-winded emails:
"If this noise continues, I'm gonna need you to move us to an outer unit with the same square feet and same rent, because this is something that (not you) but the management failed to inform me before I signed the lease and expecting this to be a quality building, which it was until lately..."
Right, like that's how it works. As if this is a hotel, and I accidentally put you in a smoking room. It's not that easy, bitch. I know I call them babies, but I can't tell grown ass adults how to live their lives. I can only reiterate rules. She's been living here for over two years, not a peep from her before this month.

I get it. When something happens to you, you feel as if you should do something about it, but bitching to me is not the solution. It just makes me hate you. You know what the solution is? Get the fuck out of my face and move.