Picture this. A 500 pound woman, with textbooks taped to the bottoms of her feet, who is apparently a vampire.
I've never actually met this person. I never want to meet this person, because if I did, I would probably have to murder them. Stompy McBitchFace is a name my housemates and I created for one of the girls that rents the upstairs portion of our house.
Our house works like this, my lovely housemates and I live in the downstairs portion on the first floor and basement. Stompy lives on the second floor with her other two roommates.
She never sleeps. At least, not that I've been able to tell thus far. At any hour of the day or night, she is pacing around her room with the loudest footsteps known to man. God help us if the floor isn't well built because I'm telling you, that sucker is going to collapse any day now. It's like she has a quota to meet everyday of how many times she needs to walk around her room.
Recently, I wrote her a letter.
Dear Anonymous,
This is anonymous. We have a lot in common. You see, I as well live at (house address)... Not in the creepy "I'm hiding in your walls" kind of way, but in a "I am a renter of the downstairs portion of the house" kind of way.
Someday, I might like to meet you. But, until then, I have had a problem with your stomping. I hear you. My floor shakes when you walk. The other day when you, I must assume, jumped off of a high surface and landed heavily on the floor, I actually felt the walls shake. I say this with the upmost respect and in the nicest, most informative way possible.
Thank you for your consideration,
Anonymous
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