Up until recently I worked at a rather affluent high-rise condominum complex.  I was usually on staff graveyards and at the front desk, making sure the place didn't flood, immolate or disintegrate, which it almost always was apt to do.  One night after being on shift for no more than 10 minutes I receive a call from a complainant about loud music emanating from an adjacent unit.  The complainant claims to have called my supervisor and informed him of the situation.  I had relieved my supervisor and saw him exit the building.  Incidentally, the complainant said my supervisor had gone up to the unit in violation and attempted to gain compliance, unsuccessfully.  I told the woman on the phone that I would go up there personally and ask that they reduce the volume of the music, and that if I were unable to gain compliance, for her to call me back in a half-hour.  I went up to the unit in question and informed the violator that there had been a complaint lodged and that as a matter of respect to please lower the volume of the music.  Which by the way had been really stupid 80's music.  They refused, actually lodging their counter-complaint, saying their food smelled like shit and it stank up the hallways, and that the people beneath them, played their music too loud.  I said that the issue now was the volume of their music, not the neighbors music or food aromas.  She said she would take it into consideration.  Yeah, right, what the fuck do I care anyway.  So I left it at that.  Then another call came from the same neighbor and I just calle dthe police, by the way I hate being a fucking middle-man.  The cops show up and they go up there one of the officers comes back down and lo and behold little miss can't be bothered by my request is laced up and dumped rather unceremoniously in the back of one america's finest cab company's cars.  So The husband and his idiot friend come down and start gioving the officer shit.  They go call the king and leave me the heck alone and I get back to monitoring the cameras breaked rather frequently by abusing the internet like it was a heavy bag.   However the fallout would come many days later.  The bitch gets it into her overcompensating for a flat chest by picking on me head that it was my fault and she is "going to launch an investigation into me." I kid you not she actually said that, like it was my fault.  In my book you get one warning and then pow negative repercussions.  Anyway her investigation was quelled like the rebellion of a small island living in comfort.  Anyway her husband comes throught he main hallway a few days later and stares me down.  I open the elevator for the housekeeper not for his dumb monkey ass.  He says to me I will take the next one, like he couldn't stand to take the elevator with someone of my caliber.  I was thinking suit yourself dumbfuck, wait for no good reason.  Anyway the housekeeper gets on and I remain he jumps on the at the last minute, giving a look dirtier than a crackwhore after a 20 John night.  Anyway the point is look at yourself before you blame other people for your problems.  God, rich people need to be stripped of their belongings and thrown to the wolves.  Anyway that sums up  this episode of tales fromt he posh side.  See ya'll next time.