Sounds from below

Everyone has weird neighbors - it's just one of those incontrovertible facts of modern living, since about 86 percent of the population is comprised of crazies, avid golfers, hardcore libertarians, asshole Uzbekistanis, and people who subscribe to fashion magazines. Still, I've been pretty lucky here in New York. I literally had no neighbors in my first apartment, just three roommates who were quite normal (well, except for maybe K., who nearly burned the house down twice while I was there). I've almost never seen anyone else in my current building, except for a girl on the fourth floor and a guy who just moved in on the first. They all seem quite sane (except of course for my deranged, but very wealthy, old landlady, who spent three years in the clink as I discovered thanks to a little Googleing). So far, so good really.

However, as I've come to realize, even when you don't meet or see your neighbors, that doesn't necessarily prevent their weirdness from manifesting itself. Now, it's a minor quibble, honestly, but it's got me very curious as to what the hell is going on. One of my neighbors, you see, has a clapping problem. As in, every few hours, from the apartment directly below my bedroom, comes a clearly audible, short clapping sound. I've heard it at 8 am, an hour after lunch, during my ritual watching of the Office on Thursdays, and even at three in the morning, when I'm either a) just settling in after a night of drinking (likely); b) sexing a hot girl I've recently met (uh, seldom); c) listening to the Sir Douglas Quintet (upbeat, possibly simultaneously with or as a result of b) or Nation of Ulysses (raging, pissed off, most likely because of a and a lack of b); or d) desperately searching the internet for pornography (always).

Regardless of what I'm doing though, it still appears, several times per day. I've tried to come up with reasons for the mysterious clapping, and below is what I've got so far. Feel free to add if you feel moved to do so.

They own the Clapper - this seems fairly likely, but still very very odd. I've never met anyone who owns the damn thing. It's just weird. And impressively lazy.

They have a servant - butlers actually get paid quite well as of late, so this isn't as far-fetched as it seems. There are two problems with this though: first, it's probably a bit rude to clap when calling for him/her these days, and second, it would be odd to be able to afford one and still choose to live in this building. I mean, there's duct tape on the stairs.

They are Yankee fans, are still in denial after the '04 Red Sox demoralized them, and in order to cast off these demons, have a videotape of the '03 series running on a constant loop - this would actually please me to no end.

They are masking other, unseemly sounds - I'm leaning towards this explanation currently. They could mix up the cover, but I suppose clapping is fairly easy and it's always at hand (horrible, horrible pun). What's far more interesting though, is what they're trying to hide behind their false applause. Beating their children? Loud farts? Two-second orgasms? None of these is good.

I've got at least a few more months of investigating, hopefully. Perhaps I shouldn't be so concerned about it though. If this is as strange as my neighbors get, I should be thankful since I'll never worry about walking out of my apartment to witness something as insane (but brilliant) as a diaper run.