ZR
Zachary Risk
Aug 10, 2026
We thought this place was our blessing. It became our nightmare. Read this before you sign a lease here.
Before signing, we told Arlington Farms TWICE that noise was the one thing that could make this apartment unworkable for our family. We both work from home, I record music on sensitive microphones, and we'd just welcomed our daughter. We were told there were 12–18 inches of concrete between units and that we'd essentially never hear our neighbors. We believed that enough to walk away from a house we loved.
It was wrong. Management admitted it was wrong.
After two moves already, all we wanted was one place we could finally settle into.
When we first toured, we said noise was our biggest concern. We were told there was no history of noise problems.
Still uncertain, we went back before signing because we were choosing between this apartment and a house we'd fallen in love with. We asked what we'd hear from our neighbors.
The leasing agent told us there were approximately 12–18 inches of concrete between the floors and that short of someone dropping a bowling ball, we wouldn't hear a thing.
That answer is why we're here instead of that house.
Then our upstairs neighbors moved in and our ceiling turned to thunder. Running, stomping, crashing, music at all hours. Our daughter jolting awake. Work interrupted. Sleep lost.
Because we believed there was over a foot of concrete above us, we didn't question the building. We questioned our neighbors and lost weeks fighting the wrong battle.
Management came into our home and heard it themselves, even reiterating that same statement about concrete we'd heard before signing. We explored transferring, but nothing available matched the first-floor home we'd chosen for our daughter.
Finally, we asked: Was what we'd been told actually true?
Yuni, the property manager, told us the 12–18 inches of concrete we'd been told about before signing was not accurate. Another member of management was even blunter.
We had gone back specifically to make an informed decision. We explained exactly what mattered and why. We received a specific, confident answer and trusted it enough to give up another home.
Only after we were legally bound to this one did anyone admit it was wrong.
We asked for a penalty-free release.
Instead, our request was presented to regional management as an ordinary "noise complaint." Since then, management has dismissed our experience as "everyday noise," and our inability to accept a transfer that doesn't fit our family's needs has been treated as though we're simply being picky.
But this was never simply about noise.
It is about what we were told BEFORE signing, the decision we made because of it, and what happened when management acknowledged that information was incorrect.
We spent weeks trying to resolve this quietly. We even removed an earlier review because we believed we were approaching a resolution.
We were wrong about that too.
Now we're packing up our nine-month-old daughter and starting over again, brokenhearted because we trusted Arlington Farms to stand behind their word, or at least take responsibility when that word turned out to be wrong.
A company isn't defined by whether one employee gets something wrong. It's defined by what the company does after discovering that a family relied on that mistake enough to sign their name beneath it.
Yuni and Arlington Farms still have a chance to make this right, and I sincerely hope they take it.
If you're considering signing here, put yourself in our shoes.
Imagine identifying the one issue that could make a home unworkable for your family. Imagine asking about it twice. Imagine receiving a specific, confident answer that puts your mind at ease. Imagine trusting that answer enough to walk away from another home and sign a lease.
Then imagine learning, only after you're bound by that lease, that the information you relied upon was wrong.
If that happened to your family, what would you expect the company to do?