Dear fucking jackass downstairs neighbour:
I would like to bring several things to your attention:
- Before 5:30 on a Sunday afternoon is not “late at night”
- Legally, we can bang on any old piece of furniture we like until 10pm
- Coming up here and swearing your head off at us is not the best way to get us to feel sympathetic to your side of the story
- Likewise, calling us “fucking assholes” makes me much more inclined to make even louder, more intrusive noises than perhaps being quiet
- Asking why we can’t build furniture during the day in the middle of the week when you’re not home is really, really stupid: we also have jobs
- Your smoking downstairs is a thousand times more obnoxious and toxic than the 20 minutes of hammering we just did
- You think we’re bad? Try living below the fucking idiots in the penthouse
- You’re a disgusting asshole, and fuck you
So. Angry.
delicious juice dot com 
Yeah, once, my downstairs neighbours were having a crack-fuelled shrieking match at 4:00am on a Wednesday morning, so I went down and asked them to shut up (and I got sworn at, among other things. Next time, self, just call the cops.) A week later I found out that, the next day, THEY had then gone and complained to the landlord about ME. It seems that I had been playing piano in the “middle of the night.” By which they meant “late afternoon on a Saturday,” which I suppose was the middle of the night by crackhead standards. People are stupid.
My point, anyway, was that making furniture on a Sunday afternoon isn’t at all obnoxious, and if your downstairs neighbours would like I can come by and play piano at them ALL NIGHT LONG.
we had a similar situation with some very angry chip on their shoulders women who lived below us in a heritage bldg- read no insulation between walls & floors. they called the cops on us for what they called “violence” in our suite which was really us having 2 friends over for dinner and moving some chairs to the table! they complained all the time, even if we just walked a bit too loud.
so yeah, since i knew their names & address, i signed them up for several mailing lists and clubs, columbia house, special collector’s plate series, those “learn at home” schools and many more. when we moved out i was sure to have my old skool ghetto blaster face down on the floor playing techno music just for their enjoyment.