How to drive someone insane by just saying “Good morning.”

I used to live with my family on the fourth floor of a building. In my country, there’s a rule that any building with more than four floors must have an elevator. Unfortunately, our building just barely missed the mark. So, we had to climb all those stairs every single day.

Below us lived an elderly couple who were... let’s just say, not the friendliest. Everything annoyed them. Honestly, I kind of get it. If I were their age and had to drag myself up three flights of stairs every day, I’d probably be bitter at the world too.

But these two? They took it to a whole new level. They complained about everything and everyone.

They hated the neighbors across the hall because of the cooking smells. They hated the ones below them for playing music. But us? Oh, their complaints about us were so ridiculous they were almost funny. Apparently, we were the loudest stompers they’d ever encountered. “You bang on the floor so hard we fall out of bed!” they’d yell. And yes, that’s an actual quote.

But the real kicker? The noise they were furious about wasn’t coming from me—a teenager at the time, tiptoeing around quietly—or my mom, who was barely ever home.

It was our cat.

Yes, the problem was my young, featherweight cat. She’d zoom around the apartment like a little rocket. Sure, she was lively, but she mostly ran around during the day. At night, she’d cuddle up with me under the blanket and sleep peacefully. There’s no way she was making “earth-shaking” noise.

But the downstairs neighbors wouldn’t let it go.

They started calling the police. Obviously, nothing came of it, because, well, there was no actual noise. Then they started yelling at us whenever we crossed paths in the stairwell. It got so bad that I started dreading going home.

And then one day, I had an idea. A simple, brilliant idea.

Whenever I saw them and they started screaming at me or making threats, I’d just stand there for a moment, listening. Quietly.

And then, with the most polite, cheerful smile I could muster, I’d say, “Good morning!”

It threw them off every single time.

Then I’d just keep walking.

If they kept yelling, I’d turn back, smile even bigger, and say, “Have a great day!”

And this became a routine.

The next day and a few days later, when we’d cross paths again. I’d see them bracing themselves, glaring at me. And I’d still go with: “Good moooorning!!!”

It drove them absolutely insane.

Now, in a building without an elevator, if we met at the bottom of the stairs, we’d end up climbing the whole way together. And me? Oh, I’d make the most of it. Every few steps, I’d turn back, flash them another sunny smile, and say, “Good morning!". - Waiting for an answer.

They, of course, would hurl insults and profanities at me the whole time. But they had no choice—they had to keep climbing with me.

And let me tell you, I was having the time of my life.

This went on for years!

Three or four years, to be exact.

Until, well... they passed away.

And no, I don’t feel guilty.

I never said a single mean word to them. All I ever said was “Good morning” and “Have a nice day.” If they’d ever responded with anything even remotely civil—if they’d said one “Good morning” back—I would’ve stopped.

But they didn’t. So, I kept going.

Honestly, it amuses me to no end that you can literally kill someone with kindness.

EDIT: Apologies for using the word 'literally. English isn’t my first language, and I thought this kind of usage was acceptable for emphasis. I now realize it can be misleading or annoying to some people, and I appreciate the opportunity to learn and improve! :-)