I’m 100% serious, even if the title doesn’t suggest it. I’m a 60 year old woman who downsized to a terraced house (think Coronation Street on telly, if you’re not in the UK) and sometimes I feel like I’m the filling in a very squashed sandwich. Oh, and this is a throwaway, and my first post on a tablet and app. Shiny!

Anyway, neighbours-wise, I’ve been very lucky I think. On one side is a bloke and his son and I never ever hear a peep out of them. On the other is a woman with three kids, and I rarely hear them either. Sometimes the youngest, a toddler, has his moments, but that’s not a problem. I never hear them after, say, 8pm. So I know I’ve landed really lucky here.

Except for the fuckin’ squeaky door in the woman’s house. CCRR-EEEA-EAEEAAAAAAKKKKK. And then again. And again. And again. Aaaaaaaaand a-fuckin-gain. It’s like… she goes through the door (CCRREEEAAAAKKK) and closes it after her (CCRREEEAAAAKKK) and then thinks “oops I left my cuppa in the kitchen!” (CCRREEEAAAAKKK … CCRREEEAAAAKKK) and then realises “oops I didn’t put sugar in!” (CCRREEEAAAAKKK … CCRREEEAAAAKKK) and then the kids spark up having a play (CCRREEEAAAAKKK-CCRREEEAAAAKKK-CCRREEEAAAAKKK). And I’m sitting here, with my knitting at half-mast, slightly dead inside.

Okay, I know what you mucky-minded lot are thinking, but it’s definitely a door (I know what bed springs sound like, thank you very much). And I know I probably need a life, seeing as how I’m sitting here inventing scenarios (scenaria? Pfft) about next door’s creaking bloody door. However, all that aside, WIBTA if I, as the title says, nipped next door and offered to oil the bastard for them? If I’d be TA, or even if not, how the hell do I ask? What do I say? Do I dress up like a repairman? (That bit’s a joke, I promise)

(Sorry for all the swearing. It’s just that it’s really getting to me. And I’m English, and a lot of us swear a fair bit). Thanks in advance.