50 Stories From People Who Had The ‘Pleasure’ Of Living Next To The Most Horrible People
by Miglė Miliūtė, Indrė Lukošiūtė · Bored PandaADVERTISEMENT
For many people, being on “a nod hello” kind of basis with their neighbors is more than enough to live a happy and calm life. However, one step in the wrong direction, and the peace and calm can become nothing but a dream in a matter of days.
Unfortunately for some people, they don’t even have to take such a step – their neighbors are crazy enough to make life difficult for them for no apparent reason. Members of the Quora community recently discussed such problematic neighbors, after one user started a thread about the worst people to live next to. The netizens shared stories covering people that can only be called neighbors from hell, so if you want to see how they compare to ‘Stomper Susan’ living above you, scroll down to find their accounts to find out.
This post may include affiliate links.
Dave was very welcoming. He knocked to my house the day we moved in and gave me a bottle of wine as a gift and introduced himself. I liked Dave from that moment.
Dave had disabilities so had a disabled car speck outside of his house. The parking in that street was a nightmare and had a huge impact on our decision to move. I will get to why this is important soon.
There was an old couple called Mr and Mrs Love (how cute?) Lovely old dears. They stopped to say hi one day whilst I was painting my front wall. Mrs Love told me to be careful of Dave. Apparently he was an awful man who complains and fights with all the neighbors. He would call the police for no good reason and he was cruel to his dogs.
Ok, Wow!
The woman across the street told me he was a p***phile who took videos from his bedroom of kids playing.
Another told me he called child protection on them for abusing their kids.
He shot next door but one’s cat with a pellet gun because it was in his garden, one of them said.
So, Dave was not a popular chap!
I'm not one for gossip but it's hard not to be wary when all your neighbors are telling you that the antichrist is living next door.
When my dog had puppies, Dave gave me his number and told me to call him any time, day or night, if I needed help. He was slightly deaf and didn't always hear the door bell.
Dave let me use the shared entry that was also his to store some things that I had no space for.
Dave fed my cat when I went away.
Dave never complained when my teenage son and his friends were rowdy.
Dave told me he was leaving his home to the Dogs Trust upon his death, in return for them to take his dogs and rehome them.
Dave looked after my dogs when I was going through something and wasn't home a lot. He never pried. He just supported me by being there.
Dave cried when I gave him a Christmas card. He never had one before from a neighbor.
Dave helped me move to my new house which wasn't far away, by bringing bits around that I forgot when the movers came.
The parking spot was the reason that the neighbors started a witch hunt for Dave. They said he scammed the council and wasn't really ill. Dave got something that they wanted. They didn't like it. Dave had cancer by the way. Nobody cared to ask. It was easier to start a hate campaign. It took one neighbor to tell an exaggerated story and begin the snowball effect that had Dave labelled as a pariah.
I still see Dave.
The other neighbors, I walk past them if I see them around. All of them are the worst neighbors I ever had.
I hope the couple who moved in to my house appreciate how lucky they are to have Dave next door.Kelley Spartiatis , Nataliya Vaitkevich
Modal close
ADVERTISEMENT
RELATED:
4 months later, on the August Bank Holiday Sunday, I put my son to bed. He was a terrible sleeper and would tantrum like nothing you'd ever seen before, but as advised by the Health Visitor, I would stand my ground and let him cry it out, checking on him silently every few minutes until he gave up and fell to sleep.
This particular evening it was 7pm when I put him to bed and shortly after, while he was crying and screaming, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to be confronted by a man telling me he was my neighbour and that he worked for Social Services. He said my son had been crying and screaming since 6am and he wanted to come in and check he was OK. I didn't recognise him and along with the fact I volunteered supporting families with Social Care involvement, knew that my son would only cry and scream even longer if anyone was to go up and see him. That morning had also been the first time in weeks my son had slept in til later than 7am and we hadn't been home all day.
I refused, telling the man to come back tomorrow with the police and went inside. I sobbed at the thought anyone would think I would harm my son and rang my cousin. She told me Social Services wouldn't turn up like that without ID and would have police with them if they wanted to come in. So I called 101 and a police officer arrived within minutes. They believed this man would have been watching my house, knowing I was a young single mum and would have used the opportunity to burgle my house or harm me and my son.
For weeks I was scared to leave the house. I set up a Facebook group warning other parents of this situation, knowing that others may not have turned him away. The local newspaper then got in touch and ran the story front page.
A couple of days later a policeman arrived to tell me that the man had contacted them. He was indeed a neighbour but didn't work for Social Services so he was given a warning. However, he did teach Social Work at the local University so should have known better! They told me he told them my son “would end up like Baby P” (for those who don't know, Baby P was a toddler who was abused by his mum and stepdad until he died). He also said he would be saying “I told you so” when this happened.
They couldn't tell me which house he lived in but reassured me they knew I was doing nothing to harm my son and he had been told to stay away from me.
Another month on from this, so probably 3 months after the incident, I saw him staring at my house from his garden. My garden backed onto his. It wasn't long after that that I met a few of my other neighbours and got to know them. Turned out he told everyone in the area that I was abusing my son, and it wasn't until they saw for themselves that he was happy and healthy that they began saying hello and getting to know me.
To target a young, first time, single mother like that is atrocious. I moved out 2 years later once I felt I couldn't even sit in my garden without him watching us.
My son is now almost 13, taller than me and such a respectful and well behaved young man. His little sister is almost 10, sassy, clever and has Autism. Her tantrums are much worse than his ever were. But my neighbours here are all lovely and understanding thank goodness!!Charlotte Clark , Tuan PM
ADVERTISEMENT
We had a cat named Donovan and a neighbor lady named ‘Susan’. She was single, in her 50’s, had a huge beautiful garden and seemed rather nice.
One summer, we were going on vacation for a week. We asked if she would look after the cat while we were gone. She enthusiastically said yes, and offered to have our cat stay at her house so it wouldn’t get bored/lonely.
How sweet of her!
We left on vacation, and had a grand old time.
When we got back from vacation, my mom went to pick up our cat and….
that’s when the crazy started.
The woman was bawling her eyes out as she handed our cat back.
Full on weeping. After knowing it for a week.
She kept saying “Goodbye Kitty! Bye my Donovan, momma’s gonna miss you!”
My mom was a bit freaked out, but she thanked her, paid her and came home.
A few days later, I had woken up around 8 AM and was peering out my window when I saw a shape moving in the fog, coming towards our back door.
It was the neighbor lady, walking across the full acre that separated our houses.
She was wearing her nightgown and curlers still.
I was trying to figure out if maybe she needed help or was hurt or something, when I heard knocking on the back door and the woman saying “Here kitty kitty!!”
I walked to the back door and opened it and she said, “I’m so sorry! I just need to see my baby! Where’s my baby?!”
I was very confused and asked her if everything was ok, or if she needed help.
She didn’t answer me, she just started calling out- into my house!- “Donovan! Here kitty kitty! Where’s my little boy?”
When the cat sauntered over, she was elated. I picked up MY cat, and let her pet him for a minute before saying “I think you should go, I have chores to do.”
When my parents came home, I told them about it and they said to ignore her if it happened again. It was all very, very strange.
Then, one day, we had let our cat out for a while (it was an indoor/outdoor cat) and when we called him to come in, he didn’t come. We checked all the places he usually lounged, and he was nowhere to be found. We searched for hours.
Finally, after a day of searching, my dad said, “Oh my god. Susan! Could she…?”
My parents quickly went over there to ask if she had seen the cat, and Susan vehemently denied knowing anything about where our cat was.
She was visibly angry about being asked, and then offered up “What do you think? That I stole him?!”
(Nobody had accused her of anything at this point, by the way.
He just said, “Hey have you seen our black cat, Donovan, anywhere today?”)
Then my mom started calling his name and whistling for him and before Susan could get the door slammed, he strolled to the door from somewhere inside the house and greeted my mom with a “Meow?”
My mom was PISSED. She started yelling about “If you ever steal our cat again…!” and “I ought to call the police!” and left.
He was an indoor cat for the next few months, until we moved again.Kate Scott , Nataliya Vaitkevich
ADVERTISEMENT
The people who lived downstairs from us did not work. They slept all day and partied all night. Eventually we learned to sort of sleep through the screamingly loud music and other party noise; the cars coming and going, beeping their hellos and goodbyes, front door constantly opening and slamming shut, laughter, yelling and as the night went by, screaming arguments and fights in the parking lot. Every morning we went out and picked up the bottles and cans, cigarette and joint butts, used condoms and worse left in front of our apartment.
Other than a few attempts at requesting that they “keep it down” which was utterly ignored and a couple of calls in the middle of the night to the police with the same request which was also ignored, we realized that resistance was futile and we stopped complaining about it.
After about a year, I inherited a piano from my grandmother. An ugly old upright with the most beautiful sound and a fabulous touch. I was a classically trained pianist but at that point in my life I could barely afford my rent, a piano was out of the question so this was a huge deal to me. Once it was moved into the apartment I couldn't wait to play, my fingers twitched with eagerness. The instant the movers left, I sat down and Hayden sonatas just poured out of me. About 15 minutes in, there is a banging on the floor. Entranced with what I was doing, I ignored it. More banging on the floor. Over and over. One of the kids brought it to my attention. Laughing, I said that at that moment, I just didn't care. They laughed with me and I played on.
After about 30 minutes, the doorbell rang. One of the kids answered the door then called for me. I went to the door. It was the husband of the downstairs neighbors and he is seething with anger, didn't I realize that they were trying to sleep? On and on he went about how rude and inconsiderate I was. I said nothing. He ranted and raved threatened and swore. I still said nothing. He finished with this sentence, “we wouldn't mind so much if it was good music”
Whereupon, I closed the door. Latched it and turned the key, went back to my piano and resumed. This time, Rachmaninov.Sam Humphreys , Charles Parker
ADVERTISEMENT
The second neighbor I really didn't know her, but it doesn't mean she wasn't horrible towards me.
I had a German Shepherd/Lab mix named Moose. This dog was not only smart but well behaved. We trained to be a Search and Rescue team. In 2010 we went to Haiti after the earthquake. That spring and summer I was still dealing with issues from that myself. I began to ride my bike as part of my therapy. I would typically ride between 30 and 60 miles at least once a week.
This lady would stare at me as I rode past her house. Whatever, then when I would return she would do the same. She never said anything. I would wave but she wouldn't wave back.
When my garden EXPLODED with fruits and vegetables, I would give them away to my neighbors. I even would offer some to the guy who called the cops on me.
So I loaded up my car and drove to this lady’s house. I knocked on the door and as I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted some fruits and vegetables, she began accusing me of “casing” her house. I finally explained that I came by to offer her some fruits and vegetables from my garden. She screamed “No Solicitations” and slammed the door in my face. I went home and was loading up some more to take to my food pantry when a deputy came to my house.
The deputy told me in laughter to quit “casing” her house and then asked if he could get some tomatoes. I let him get what he wanted and we left.
That weekend I noticed a new family move in next door to me. I took a box of what I grew over and with Moose I introduced ourselves. I offered to help and they graciously declined and thanked me for what I brought. About an hour later I get a phone call from the Sheriff's office. I get a report of three kids missing and possibly in a corn field. The address was next door and it was my new neighbors' two kids and a friend of theirs. I grab my vest and Moose's leash and after getting a scent we take off into the field. At a jog we managed to find the three boys and instead of walking back the way we came, I decided to walk out of the field to the closest road.
As we exited the field we ended up in crazy lady's yard. I realized I forgot my phone, so I figured depending on where we were at we would either walk home, or I would ask someone to call the dispatcher and let them know where we were.
I didn't need to ask because crazy lady had called 911 and reported an adult, three kids, and a vicious dog attempting to break in her house.
I guess the dispatcher said that she would send somebody because she hung up the phone. She stood there gloating that she would see us go to prison for the rest of our lives.
The same Sheriff's Deputy who had told me to stop “casing” her house pulls up along with an SUV with the parents. Parents run up and hug the kids. They leave and the lady begins to lose her mind. The deputy asked if I wanted a ride home and I said yes. Crazy lady went off on the deputy for not arresting me and also for not confiscating Moose.
The deputy looked at her and said since we were performing duties in which we were considered essential for the life and safety of others, he legally could not arrest us for trespassing.
A few days later a detective came by to investigate a complaint the lady made about that incident. As we talked I heard a car door slam and then I noticed the “crazy lady” in my back yard with a plastic bag. The detective went out to confront her and in the bag was a bunch of dead wild birds.
During the course of the investigation it was discovered she had poisoned these birds and she collected them and froze them.
She claimed that since my dog and I were a “menace” to the area it was her “duty” to see us hauled off.
Come to find out she was actually crazy and off her meds.Theresa Ashley , Kindel Media
ADVERTISEMENT
One fall a section of my wooden privacy fence fell down into their yard. We managed to wrestle it back into my yard, but I needed to find someone who could reinstall it in concrete before the ground froze. I couldn't find anyone to do the task so asked a friend knowledgeable about construction, if he could find someone and added that I was happy to pay.
Imagine my delight when I returned from work one day to find a small group of Latinos in the yard installing the fence. My fence had become a training session for a group of student carpenters.Fredda Scobey , Mh mídia Conteúdos Digitais
He stomped everywhere, every step he took we could follow.
He yelled- a lot
He liked to come down and act threatening when we disciplined our young kids - such as scolding them for flushing something expensive down the toilet…
He stared at everyone when he left the apartment or returned from work
He threatened kids
** On the UP side… with his patrol car parked out front, we had THE SAFEST building to live in!!
When he and his family moved out, EVERYONE had a collective sigh of relief. His moving actually caused ALL of us to, for once, have something to do with our neighbors. His leaving brought us all together, for a while.
I don't think all cops are like him, but he made everyone feel like a criminal. I know kids would feel like criminals just for having a popcicle… he just stare them down, until they ran inside cryingEddie Monaghan , Crypto Crow
ADVERTISEMENT
We had just bought a house in what we thought was a quiet part of town.
The neighbour opposite owned a tyre franchise.
Within a week we found out that his twin 16 year old daughters decided to have a wild party every Saturday night, with all booze supplied by him.
On any Saturday night, there would be up to 100 feral teens, with cars screaming around the place. The parties usually finished about six am.
We called the police the first couple of weeks, but gave up calling them as half the police officers were his friends…including the local police boss.
So whenever we knew a party was on, we would bundle the pets into the car and stay in a motel for the night… in another town.
Even so, the next morning the tyre guy would come screaming into the middle of the street about us ringing police…
One night, they held a surprise party, and we were trapped in our own home. The neighbourhood got trashed and we had these ferals trying to break in.. and burn the house down while we were inside.
My wife at the time had an axe in her hands and when they realised she was more than willing to remove limbs, they backed away.
Police arrived as the delightful neighbour wss in the middle of the street screaming death threats.
Victoria police as usual were useless, calling him by his nickname and trying to get him back in the house.
As usual police asked us what did we do to start him off.
A few days later we found out he was having a birthday party at home…
We went to a motel, and came back the next day to a firebombed neighbourhood. Trees had bern set on fire, houses attempted to be torched .. we found the remains of a firebomb in the backyard - all launched by the neighbour.
I was out the front chatting to a bail justice whrn police drive past. He stopped the cops and told them to do their bloody job, or they could lose his services. Thry knovked on his door and asked him if it was possible for him to cleanup the rubbish in thr Street. He said no.
We later found a firebomb in the front yard and took it in to police and the desk cop just threw it in the bin.
We asked to see the station commander, who judt asked us what did we do to start it all.
The next day I lodged a formal complaint with the police department with senior police.
We sold the house and moved across town to a nicer area.
After a year, they moved to a small town about 5km away, and interstate.
All the old neighbourhood problems stopped dead in their tracks, as the ferals lusting after the in-heat twins went and had their parties at the new venue…. And the police there were really busy…
One day one of these cops who used to ask us what did we do to set him off made a comment to me.
I let him have it. Both barrels between the eyes about police ineptitude thst cost us $200,000.
Its funny but for the next few years those officers would cross the street to avoid me.
They even would go to other hospitals to avoid meBen Longden , Lisa Fotios
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
As a single woman, living alone, I always saw neighbors as a potential useful resource: if I fell down the stairs or was attacked, I would hope that they would hear my distress through the wall and at least call someone, so I bent over backwards to be as friendly and neighbourly as possible.
Most of my neighbors were lovely in return-but the next door neighbor on one side was unremittingly hostile, superior and dominating. I never mentioned this to any of the other neighbors, because I believed that the man-an elderly fellow with an equally hostile-looking wife, actually was trying to start a feud with me and gossiping about him locally may have set that off. I decided that I was going to dominate him in my own way. I was going to be in control of our relationship, and we were going to get on just fine.
If I were to write a list of all his pettiness and bullying, I would be here all day: but I will give one example to give a taste. I’m quite a green person, so I went to the trouble and expense to get a system whereby I could use ‘grey water’ (pre-used water from my house) in a little white hosepipe to water my garden (which I loved). One year there was a drought and the water company told us that we were not allowed to use mains water via hosepipes to water our gardens. I continued to use the water from my ‘grey supply’ via the thin white pipe (quite distinct from a garden hose-pipe) which had already been used for washing, was going to be wasted otherwise.
When my neighbor spotted me using the grey water, he told me that the bylaw was against using hosepipes-not specifically mains water. He had taken the trouble to look up the exact details of the law. This meant that he could report me-and I could face a fine.
I looked him in the eye and asked if he would really report me for using water that would otherwise go down the drain-in order to keep my beloved garden alive during the long drought. He looked back delighted and triumphant. “Yes, of course .” He said. It was hard not to wonder what I had done to have targeted his attention on me in this way. It was before the internet, so he had gone to some bother with his research.
I could only do what I always did with him: deprive him of the victory he sought from my starting a feud with him. I smiled and told him that he was right-and I was grateful for his advice. I put the hosepipe by the house, and took up the watering can -which I filled with the grey water. He watched me over the wall as I daily toiled up and down my steep garden, back and forth with my watering can.
I lived next to him in this way for 20 years, and eventually found out later what it was that I had done to incur his wrath: neighbors who had known him for longer than I told me that he was a bully with all women. However, I never allowed him to bully me, and I NEVER fell out with him. From his stony face and gritted teeth, I could tell that my cheery wave and (hypocritical) smile over the garden wall irritated him almost to distraction.
Apparently, he had a daughter somewhere that he hadn’t seen for 30 years. Ironically, when he was a lonely old widower, it was I who heard his cries of distress through the wall and called an ambulance when he’d had a fall.
Sadly, his daughter didn’t even turn up to his funeral.Plumb , MART PRODUCTION
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
When my husband and I first got together we bought a house in an area called the beach. It was an old wreck but still expensive so we worked on it ourselves and slowly made progress. After five years we got married, had the second and third floors finished and I was expecting a baby. We were both working so hard just to pay the mortgage but my husband was even working nights as a waiter because it was time for me to quit. As I was 8 months pregnant we decided to rent the upstairs. Oh boy, big mistake.
We interviewed a few people and decided on this really sweet girl. She said she worked evenings and was home during the day, led a quiet life and I actually thought we might end up hanging out together a bit. Well, as it turned out she worked nights alright…I’m pretty sure she was a hooker and she brought the party home with her. Every night.
Things came to a head one night when I knocked on her door and asked her to please keep it down (the baby was due any day) and she called me ever name in the book and laughed in my face. My husband came home shortly afterwards and there was a bit of a brawl with her guests. It just killed me that I couldn't roll up my sleeves and get right in there too.
My husband is a man who takes care of business. So this sweet girl came home late the following night ready to rock and roll only to find all of her possessions on the front lawn and the locks changed. She called her scuzzy friends for help and we never saw her again.
I know there are laws, and she could have relaliated but believe me my husband can intimidate the devil himself. He didn't like someone messing with his pregnant wife.Janet Hempkin , Alena Darmel
ADVERTISEMENT
With one exception I had terrible neighbors.
Neighbor #1:
On one side of me was a family with three teenagers about 10 years older than my kids. When the parents went away, the kids had parties. No problem. I don’t give a rat’s a** what other people do. I care about what happens in my house.
There was just one problem. The neighbor’s deck was up against my side fence. When the kids had parties, the guests would throw their garbage over the fence. Beer cans, glass bottles, and other assorted crap. What really made me mad (it’s hard to make me mad; you really have to work at it, but once I’m mad, I can stay mad forever) was that I always had dogs, and I didn’t want my dogs cutting their feet on broken glass.
The first time it happened, I did nothing. The second time it happened, I waited until Monday, when I knew the parents were home, and I took over a garbage bag of their garbage which had been tossed over our shared fence into my yard. I told the parents that I didn’t know if they knew that their kids were having parties when they were away, and I frankly didn’t care, but I did not want their guests’ garbage in my yard including broken glass which was a hazard for my children and my pets. They just stood there open-mouthed.
The third and fourth time it happened the next day I just threw everything back over the fence. It didn’t happen again after that.
Neighbor #2:
On my other side, I had another winner.
One Saturday night when my kids were elementary-school-aged, and I was a single mom, we had a freak snowstorm in May late at night. A Y-shaped apple tree of mine fully leafed out split in two at about midnight, and half of it fell across the fence into the neighbor’s yard.
At 8 O’clock the next morning (Sunday) the neighbor rings the bell.
“What are you going to do about the tree in my yard?” he says.
“The tree fell around midnight,” I told him. “I need at least a day or two to get it cleaned up including getting a friend with a chainsaw over,” I told him.
I managed to get a friend over that afternoon, and we got it cleaned up and at least the mess was in my yard instead of the neighbor’s, and the fence was fixed. It took another week to get it all cleaned up, and that mishap eventually killed the tree, sadly.
That neighbor also rang my bell once again a few months later and showed me a cigarette butt that he found on his property. (I smoke, but I’m an extremely neat and polite smoker.)
“Not my brand,” I smiled at him. “Sorry. It didn’t come from me. I can’t help you,” and I shut the door.
I never spoke to them again after that. Did that guy seriously think I would drop cigarette butts on his lawn?Cynthia White , Mushtaq Hussain
ADVERTISEMENT
While I was still living in the same house, they moved across town.
A few months later, the wife calls me and asks if I’ll come over (across town.) She says she’s leaving her husband, and in fact, he’s been beating her all these years, and she’d like me to help her tell her now-adult children because I’ve known them since they were small. (I didn’t know she considered me such a close friend?!) Of course, I went to help, but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Things are seldom what they seem, skim milk masquerades as cream.” W.S. Gilbert from H.M.S. Pinafore.Cynthia White , Thirdman
She's got a huge thing about parking. Sits and watches for infractions and threatens to have cars towed as if some tow truck company is waiting for her to call and tow on private property. She has no job. This is part of her “work". She watches things go on here like a deranged hawk.
I had guests at my condo for the Jewish mourning ritual (Shiva) of my son. Visitors come, the door is unlocked, they do not ring the bell (it is covered) and everyone wanting to visit can come to pay respects.
They bring food and drink. They sit, visit, eat, chat and console. They keep life buoyant as we are sinking. Or in my case they kept me grounded as I was floating away somewhere. Simply by being present. In my home they keep the grievers occupied until it's time to go home.
Before the events, my nice neighbor, Mary put out an email before for all neighbors to be patient and generous to a possible parking mistakes wherever and when ever for two nights 4-8 pm. EVERYONE HERE HAS A GARAGE. We are talking about designated guest spots. We have general guest spots as well.
Marina answered the email: I have a better idea. Why doesn’t Cindy just tell her guests where to park? In a group email back!
Well, does anybody know who exactly will come to a Shiva, a wake, a memorial? And would that be something a grieving mother and her insiders would really want to or be able to spend time on during the visiting hours? Ever? No.
So…this MARINA, who is the resident nightmare and parking Nazi, Czar, Witch of this end of the condo units… who is typically the never-ending, loud-mouth, badgering bully at every open condo association meeting…
She puts these notes on all of the cars of the mourners and people paying respects who were improperly parked. (Parking is complicated and sparse; believe me I did my best)
After knowing I've suffered an unspeakable loss:
Leaves:
This, as an real life example. We don’t know how many other notes she left.Cindy Kaplan
ADVERTISEMENT
One night my neighbors below me were quite loud. I hit the floor a couple of times and shouted (for volume, not rudely) that it was late and I had to work in the morning.
The girl came up to my door and began cursing me, threatening me. I didn't have a chance to explain further.
The boy came up not long after. I had seen him selling d***s before and instantly froze. What was he going to do?
Before I could say even a word he turned to the girl and scolded her. Stop bothering our neighbors, let her sleep.
They went back down and I released a deep breath, realizing I'd been holding it that entire time.
I moved a few months later and never asked a neighbor to be quiet again.Samantha Kannan , Liza Summer
My first home, where I grew up, is in an upscale neighborhood. About 15 or so years ago it started getting a big influx of NYC commuters who wanted to have big homes for their families but never learned any small town manners. Yuppies, mostly, who didn’t really want to live in a nice village with a sense of community but wanted to show off big houses and nice cars and the like. Some were alright. Lots of house flippers, too.
So my next door neighbors for the first 20 years of my life was a really nice Filipino family. A nurse, their two kids and an operating system designer / coder. They moved out, sold the house, that new family sold it again, and that third family was an uptight bunch of bastards.
My house and theirs share a driveway, it’s split down the middle. My mom, rest her, was disabled. Their first day in the new home I brought them a pie that I’d baked myself and the wife took it and waited for me to leave. So I got to the point and told them about my mom’s disability and asked if they wouldn’t mind not parking right at her driver’s side door and pinning it in. It’s hard for her to have to park farther in the driveway and walk farther and all that. She screamed at me, “I HAVE KIDS.” and all that entails. Lovely.
So then another time I come out and their monstrous and completely unnecessarily huge SUV (I mean, seriously, the town is tiny the train is the commute and the kids are small enough to fit in a sock drawer) is right next to my mom’s car. No way she could get in the car. So I see the husband and ask him if he wouldn’t mind parking a little farther into his driveway or a little farther out… and he challenges me to a fight.
They chased away three au pair’s with the husband trying to [sleep with] them.
I hate people sometimes.
Jaques Figaro
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
They were squatters in the abandoned building adjoining my duplex row home. They were a bit shady, but I live in a rather low-rent area in general, and since the house was abandoned for 20 years I’d had more than the average share of shady neighbors.
In any event, the one guy I knew by name knocked on my door one day and said they were leaving but they were going to lock the place up nice and tight so I wouldn’t have to worry about less reputable squatters moving in.
Nice, eh?
About three years go by and I get a knock on my door, and it’s a group of nice Quakerly non-violence activist types looking for a squat and to be polite they thought they should ask me if I’d mind. They seemed pretty trustworthy and were working for good causes etc, so I promised I wouldn’t raise a stink if I heard them opening the place up. So early the next morning I heard them opening the back door and then banging around and moving furniture blockades and stuff inside the house.
Suddenly there were startled yelling sounds and footsteps running around and out the back door. I figured they’d seen a giant possum or something and just went back to sleep.
A bit later I hear a loud knocking on my door and find a half dozen cops running around outside. Evidently the squatters who had locked the place up three years earlier had left something behind: An overdosed body on their living-room couch… which was, after three years, no longer in very good condition.
I’d say those earlier squatters certainly qualified as the worst neighbors *I* ever had! LOL!Michael J. McFadden , Rosemary Ketchum
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
One Saturday night, I had a few people over. We were sitting on my porch, drinking quietly, at around two am. The night was relatively quiet and cool, which made the shriek from a few doors down that much more startling.
The mother ducked out of her house, toddler on her hip, and spotting us drinking, handed us the toddler and ran back to her apartment, screaming the whole way. The poor toddler looked at all of us, her thumb in her mouth.
“What the hell are we supposed to do with her,” said one of my friends.
“Hell if I know,” I said.
We ended up passing her from woman to woman, rocking her and petting her. It took her mother a good two hours to finish fighting with her partner, by which time the toddler had gone to sleep with a little sigh on one of the women with us.
I didn’t actually want to let her go. I really just wanted to take the toddler inside with me, find her a bed, and let her grow up somewhere quiet(er.)
A few months later, the same mother ended up following her man down the street screaming at him, the toddler following along behind them without anyone paying attention to her. I actually ran out of my apartment in my pajamas, tugging my shoes on, while on the phone with 911, to try and catch the toddler before she toddled out onto the main street nearest us, with a speed limit of 45 mph.
Fastest police response I’ve ever seen. I didn’t clear the first block after the baby before three cruisers pulled up.
I really just wanted to take her toddler from her the whole time—I’m not the best parent ever, but goddamn that woman made me wish for the ability to just adopt a kid at will.
Out of all the crappy neighbors I ever had, that couple bothered me the most.Carrie Cutler , RDNE Stock project
ADVERTISEMENT
“You do realize that there are old people, little children and people who have jobs in this building? Where is your respect for the time? Do you really think it is appropriate to make that much noise?”
They apologized but instead of stopping with the partying or at least, turning the volume down, they continued with the same thing. My mother called the police again..To not make the story long, the police was called one more time and after a month or so, they moved out of the building. For what reason, I’m not quite sure. It probably had to do something with the frequent police visits, I don’t know.Lara Novakov S. , cottonbro studio
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
Had to laugh at this one. When my wife and I first got married, the first home we owned was a condo/townhouse in a Houston suburb. (Or as I described it we owned a cheap apartment.)
Our neighbors were a young couple on one side and a young couple on the other side. One couple enjoyed partying all weekend/every weekend until the wee hours of the morning and the other couple enjoyed nude sunbathing every sunny day they were at home. Both situations were somewhat amusing at first but became annoying after the first summer in Houston. Repeated requests to both parties would result in a temporary respite of their activities.
The sunbathing couple moved out after the husband discovered his wife enjoyed sunbathing with other people as well. The partying couple seemed to get more and more raucous as time progressed, to the point of multiple noise complaints from the other homeowners in the proximity.
Make a long story shorter, my wife and I went on a week long trip to Vegas as a vacation. Somehow my stereo was left on, at full volume, with the multiple speakers turned face to the common wall for the entire week. And since I dearly loved Iron Butterfly, the long version of “In A Gadda Da Vida” played full blast for about 168 hours right next to my neighbors bedroom.
One of our other neighbors across the courtyard was a Sheriff’s Deputy and he said there were noise complaints made by our neighbor. But when the police came out the neighbors were told that since the music was not heard outside of our residence, there was nothing that could be done. The neighbor stated that he would cut our power to stop the music and was told that if he did that he could be held liable for any damage incurred as a result.
When we returned, the neighbor and I had a discussion, We agreed that they would not continue having loud parties and if they were informed the noise was getting out of hand, they would stop. I agreed that we would not have any further ‘mishaps’ with our stereo.
Jim Whatley
ADVERTISEMENT
At that time, my then-husband had a small fix-it business. So, the neighbor asked if my husband would fix a few things there. After a long debate between me and my husband, he agreed that he’d do the work and only charge them what it cost him in materials but wouldn’t charge any labor. He was very reluctant to do it.
So, he went over and discussed it with him. He’d charge him the cost of materials, period. They had a deck that was structurally sound but needed new deck boards and two fence gates that didn’t work and needed new hardware. And one or two other small things.
So, he fixed everything one Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, he took them the receipts for materials and asked to be paid about $120. They looked at him like he had three heads, paid him the money in cash, and never spoke to us again. Seriously. If they saw us, they walked the other way. It was very obvious. I have no idea why. It never made any sense to me. Did they think we wouldn’t charge them for materials when we said we would and they agreed?
I always thought they might be in witness protection. They didn’t appear either of them to work, and they had hardly any furniture in a pretty big (2500 sq. ft) house. I always thought I’d see them on an episode of America’s Most Wanted. But I never did. They were still there when I left 10 years later.Cynthia White , Anete Lusina
ADVERTISEMENT
I was friendly with my former next-door neighbors. We both gardened, and would swap produce back and forth. Sometimes in person, sometimes by leaving on each other’s porches. I made the mistake of trying to continue this tradition with my new neighbors. They had a table on their back deck, within an arm’s reach from the lawn. I reached between the fence boards and placed several cucumbers, a few zucchini, peppers, and a bag of green beans on the table.
A day or so later, I noticed that they had moved the table further from the fence, so it was unreachable from the round. The vegetables were still there, untouched. They remained there for several days, untouched. It almost seemed as though they were afraid they were a curse of some sort.
Well I learned from my fail, and started knocking on neighbors’ doors before gifting them with garden surplus. Some accepted them enthusiastically, others just have a ‘oh, whatever, thanks’ reaction.Barbara Vines , Sarah Chai
ADVERTISEMENT
I have an elderly neighbor. She has a cute little white dog, but that little dog never leaves the confines of her yard and house, because the lady doesn’t either.
I’ve lived in my house for about four years. During that time every interaction I’ve had with this woman has been vaguely or even outright unpleasant.
I’ve chalked this up to many things. Maybe she’s a widow. Maybe her friends and family never visit her. Maybe she is super lonely and that’s why she’s so sour.
A few months ago I ended with a little rescue dog of my own.
One Saturday morning I decided that my youngest child and I would try to be good neighbors, and go ask this woman if she would like us to take her dog with us while we walked around the block. I thought it would be a nice learning opportunity for my daughter (helping others and community and what not).
As we made our way across her yard toward her dog barking unhappily from the confines of the house, my dog decided to pee in her yard.
“KEEP YOUR DOG FROM USING THE BATHROOM ON MY PROPERTY!!!!” she bellowed from within the house.
I looked with some disbelief at her yard which was literally coated with her own dog’s feces.
She continued to yell at me out about my dog having peed.
My daughter and I turned around and continued on our walk alone.
It ended up being a good learning opportunity for my daughter…and for me.
Some people just aren’t terribly nice.Lacy Windham , RF._.studio
ADVERTISEMENT
For me it was a downstairs neighbor in an apartment complex. The walls between units were fine but the floors were a joke, someone cut corners by not insulating them and you could hear everything, I could hear light switches being flipped in the apartment below me.
My roommate and I did our best not to make a lot of noise but in November one year we got a new guy in the place below us and things were ok for the first month or so, then at christmas the neighbor got a stereo system and (as best I can tell) one CD by some metal band. He played it continuously when he was at home. I tried talking to him, asking him to turn it down, which would work for a short while, I tried complaining to the apartment manager, eventually I called the cops a couple of times but finally I started cutting off his power.
It wasn’t hard, I knew where the breaker boxes were for the apartments and one night when he was being extra loud with a bunch of friends, I got up, got dressed and went around to the back of the building turned off his main breaker. This was in January.
Two days later he still hadn’t figured out what had happened since there was a note on his door from the power company saying that his main was off and all he had to do was turn it on. I took the note and turned on the power.
I used this method several more times over the next month when I needed to sleep. He seemed to be completely clueless. In March he finally got evicted for excessive complaints and police calls. It seems the other neighbors complained to the manager and police enough. I overheard him voicing his resentment at having lost his security deposit and last month’s rent deposit and how the power never worked right.
The next neighbor was much nicer.
William Travis
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
I have a neighbor a couple houses down the street right now whom I suspect has killed at least three of my cats, severely injured another with a club, and may be responsible for the disappearance of at least three others over the past 10 years.
I can't prove a damn thing, even with the aid of friends who work for the local Forensic Institute, surveillance, and video cameras.
She has called "anonymously" to report “child abuse” in my home and in the homes of three other neighbors… one of the homes does not have children. She calls the local police to report neighbor's cars as having expired tags when the car is parked in the street in front of the owner's house.
She is actively anti-social; this is not a "she's misunderstood"; she is bigoted, racist, intolerant, animal-hating, anti-pretty much everything, and will let you know it. She can't be bargained or reasoned with.
She hates me. It's not paranoia; she hates Muslims, Asians, dark-skinned people, single mothers, lawyers, the military (even veterans), cat lovers, people of humble backgrounds, and... well... it goes on and on, and I fit every one of these categories.
Other neighbors get her hate too, but none is as much of a "whole package" as I am (in her eyes).
The one positive thing she does is unite all other neighbors in watching out for each other in light of her antics.
Sarah Weaver
ADVERTISEMENT
Still my family's neighbors to this day. It started with their adult son coming over and staring in our windows and doors when I or my sister were home alone. We called the police twice and he didn't do it again. Instead, he started coming up our driveway and dumping trash all over the driveway. Even keyed my parent's car. Finally we installed security cameras all over the property and caught him twice dumping trash and flipping the bird at the cameras.
His wacko mother saw the footage and made the excuse that her precious son was just angry and scared of the police and that we never should have called them on his behaviors. We didn't even press charges. Just simply had the police make sure they stayed away or there would be charges. About a week later, they called the police on my father, saying their TV wasn't working and it must be him messing with their satellite signal on purpose. That's when the cops warned them to cut the crap or they'd face legal trouble.
Molly Winn
ADVERTISEMENT
I had this couple that were renting the house next door to me. They seemed nice enough at first. For some reason my puppy did not like the wife. Every time she was talking out in her backyard, my pup would start barking and flipping out. I also noticed that trash seemed to be finding its way into my yard as well. One day I came home from work; and there was mud tracked all through my kitchen, smeared on my sliding glass window and my yard looks like mud soup. My dog was soaking wet, he looked like he was wearing boots made of mud. It hadn't rained and it didn't look like my yard was still flooding. I went out to inspect my poor yard and realized the water was coming from the neighbors. I went next door and saw the husband walking out of the garage. I stopped him and asked if they had a busted pipe. He looked at me like I had 2 heads, so I told him about my yard. Then he says his wife had wanted to wash the patio but he's not sure about how much water she used. We are in California, nobody should be using that much water to wash a patio! I was so irritated, I had to go take care of my dog and clean my kitchen. About a week or 2 after I was home, when my dog runs out back barking. I go to bring him inside, but I stop and watch as the wife is tossing her yard garbage over the fence into my yard. I took video of this, for a while now I had been telling people this lady was crazy and here was proof. Then I gathered it all into a bag and went next door. When the wife answered it, I dumped it on her porch.
“I believe you dropped this”, then I went home.
Stephanie Johnson
ADVERTISEMENT
My closest neighbor used to be a couple that were neat freaks. Their yard and house was immaculate. He would see something needing corrected in my yard and correct it. Blow my leaves, spray my lawn to get rid of dandelions, trim my trees overlooking their property.
They sold their house to a couple that ran a ‘head shop’. I have no issues with head shops or their proprietors. These folks were ‘interesting’. Their dogs however were unbearable. There had a pack of unsocialized canines. Imagine a pack of yappy chihuahua and rat terrier mixed mongrels that ran in a pack and barked incessantly every time I was in my back yard. There was a chain link fence separating our properties and the only way to drive the barking pack from the fence was to spray them with water which I did and they hated me.
I planted bamboo on my side of the shared fence and tried to be stealthy in my own back yard. Somehow the dogs knew I was in my backyard and would bark and bark.
The head shop owner passed away. His widow was not a great business person. She was foreclosed on. Lots of the business stuff was transported to their property. Many items were left out in the weather to experience degradation.
After marrying and divorcing a Moroccan, the widow tried to keep the the business alive. The dogs continued to multiply. And bark. Bark incessantly anytime I was in my back yard.
I saw that the widow neighbor was having difficulties with her car and asked if I could help. Apparently, she said, the battery was shot. I went back home and returned with a battery charger to help. I was informed that her electrical service had been disconnected due to nonpayment of her electrical bill.
I left on vacation. Upon my return I found out my neighbor had died unexpectantly. They removed 20+-some dogs from the home. Its now been 10 months since she passed. The house remains untouched and unoccupied. I’ve heard the house maybe condemned by the county as being uninhabitable.
So I went from neat-freaks to chaotic dog hoarding. Much trash is in the yard. The lawn has not been mowed this year. So… I have an abandoned property next door with no resolution in sight.
Mike Fye
ADVERTISEMENT
I lived across the hall from a woman who was all right when she was sober. When she was drinking, she was very loud, but I would normally just double check that my door was locked, put on some music or put in some earplugs, and mind my own business.
Then her dog died, and it pushed her over the edge. Her drunken habits escalated from “loud” to “scary.” She would break bottles and place the glass in front of other people’s doors. She would shout epithets at anyone she came across. And then one day, she hit another neighbor, a 7-year-old boy, with her cane and broke his arm. She was arrested, but the boy’s mom decided not to press charges, I guess, because she was back in a few days.
I finally called my landlord and asked to move to another open apartment in the building. I was ready to explain why I wanted the switch, but my landlady was able to guess.
It’s a bit sad, because my bad neighbor was elderly and had no family around her, although I gather she did have an adult son somewhere. Her dog gave her the only real affection she had, and then when he died, she was understandably deeply grieved. Nevertheless, I was glad to get away from her.
Lola Sugimoto
ADVERTISEMENT
I’ve answered this one before but it bears repeating. Horrible barely beings to describe it. When I was growing up the man next door to us was a fanatic about his yard. He would pick up leaves by hand every day. The mail man would deliver his mail and then cut across his lawn to deliver ours. And my sister, running to the school bus stop would cut across one small corner of his yard to get to the street. One day, my sister was running for the bus, but came back to the house bleeding from the outside corner of her mouth to the outside edge of her chin. A very fine cut was the cause. She was crying and said she hit something as she got the property line. Mama was on the case and, by this time, the neighbor had come outside. He had strung piano wire from an electric pole to his house to keep the mail man from cutting across the yard. The piano wire came down very quickly. Fast forward. The daughter of another neighbor that lives on a street was walking her dog. The dog was well behaved and trained. The daughter, about nine years old, had taken the dog off-leash to talk with my mother. Nasty neighbor comes out screaming at the child about that #$% dog and there are leash laws and on and on. The irate neighbor had a small pistol in his hand. The dog had his front feet over the property line. The little girl said something to the dog and he immediately sat by her feet while she put the leash on. She left but was upset. My mom called her mom to ask if she was okay. The kid has said nothing to her mom about the incident. Mom told her what happened. Within ten minutes, the little girl’s dad pulled into the man’s driveway. Dad was an attorney who normally rode his bike to work showering and so on at a club downtown before going to the office. But, this time, he was driving and, on a Saturday, was in a suit. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that talk. Just over the property line, there was a huge oak tree. One night, my parents observed this dude with what looked to be a bb gun with a flashlight taped to the end shooting up into the tree. When my dad asked what he was doing, the neighbor said the birds in that tree kept him awake at night and had pooped on his car. Dad told him the tree was on our property with meant the birds in it were our birds and he had better not even thinking bout hurting them. The next morning, there was a dead bird in our driveway. Dad reported the incident. This guy was a menace.
Pamela Lea
ADVERTISEMENT
When we had special moments, humorous or romantic, she would bang on the floor with a broomstick, and she once called us when we weren’t in a position to answer the phone to leave a message that she knew what we were doing and we’d better stop. We had previously given her a little picture frame for Christmas as a neighbor gift, which she returned.
She then called the Secret Service to tell them we were stealing her mail and hiding under her apartment floorboards using laser listening devices to hear her conversations. She would watch me leave for work every night behind a curtain her head would peak through, then quickly disappear. Some well-dressed professionals came over one night, and we thought the secret service was coming back to interview us. It was the city’s mental health division, and they took her away for a few days.
We’d been in contact with our landlord, who was hearing wild stories from this neighbor, and once the mental health team took her away, he agreed to secretly move us out of our apartment, return our deposit, and pay for the movers. He admitted the whole time he didn’t know who to believe. She’d had a quiet existence until a series of medical and career events I won’t discuss led to her breakdown. He contacted us a few months later and told us she had straightened out and wanted to apologize for the horror she put us through. We politely declined: The damage was done.
*I’ve added an additional comment below with a few other incidents. This story is as true as I can remember. Our neighbors, my parents, our landlord, and her coworkers can confirm these stories.Rich Williams , cottonbro studio
ADVERTISEMENT
Six years ago, in my mid twenties, I lived in a ground floor flat at the front of the property. Several months after I moved in, a young couple moved into the flat behind me. Kate was 21 and Lottie was 19 and this, for both of them, was their first time living independently with a partner. They were excited and laughing and chatting with me as I helped them shift the last of their belongings. Both worked in caring capacities and they seemed like perfectly sweet, pleasant neighbours to have.
It was about two months later that I heard the first fight. Late in the evening, it erupted so fast with such a high volume that my cat was startled from his slumber and leaped a foot in the air. Kate was screaming at Lottie, a vicious, cruel list of insults, I heard Lottie crying, a smash, followed by another, as household objects started hitting the joining wall. I wouldn't say the wall thickness was in any way generous, but it was not so thin to normally allow this level of eavesdropping clarity.
The din continued for only another fifteen minutes or so. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't so late that it would be reasonable to go around complaining, and I wasn't I'd be thanked for calling the police if it all sounded worse than it was. I'll also admit that I was afraid that if I called the police, they might well know it was me and I didn't want unnecessary grief in my life. I over thought it, I considered it 'not my problem'. I was relieved it was over fast.
A week later another fight. Two the next, always accompanied by the sounds of smashing, breaking household items. Kate full of vitriol, Lottie crying.
It wasn't my problem. I didn't want grief.
Then came the sound of a slap, and another, and a body slamming into that wall. That's when I decided to call the police.
There was nothing the police could do. Lottie was bruised with a quickly darkening eye but insisted everything was an accident and there were no charges to press.
I thought at least now Kate knew that what she did was not in silence, that others could hear, that the police had been called once and could be called again. But it seemed to make her bolder. The outbursts became nightly, the sounds far more physical and violent. I called the police a couple more times, it was always 'an accident'.
Eventually I went over myself in the middle of an episode. I smashed on their door (both of our front doors were exterior to the building). No one answered. I opened the letter box and shouted at Kate to stop. I shouted until it stopped, but the door remained unanswered.
Now I really had identified myself amongst the neighbours as the interferer. My car started being frequently keyed. It was a banger anyway and I didn't own it for it's aesthetics so that didn't bother me too much. I continued to call the police, I started banging on the joining wall as soon as a fight broke out. I started calling out to one or the other.
I wrote Lottie a note saying she should run to my flat anytime she needed to, and if I wasn't in then to use a spare key, which I hid in a space near the door. I didn't want the letter intercepted by Kate. Lottie drove, Kate cycled, so I folded the letter and squashed it behind the handle of her car door. It was intercepted. I returned home to find my cat, confused and distressed, tied up inside a number of bin bags, slowly suffocating. There was no damage to my home, but she'd locked in on the thing I loved the most and made her intentions clear. I had to change the locks, I had to hope Lottie would be ok.
I moved out shortly after, back into London after this year out in Kent. I never knew what happened afterwards to either one of them. But overhearing endless violence and feeling so limited in how I could stop it made every night a failure, and the growing concern that a death could occur that somehow I should have prevented still haunts me.
I hope Lottie got out. I hope she realised, with all of her nineteen years, that this wasn't was
Sabrina Caan
ADVERTISEMENT
For the first year, it was bliss. Not a lot of people lived on my block and noise, other than the occasional child running on their way to the pool was more than manageable.
Then, I had a bunch of noisy neighbors who moved in upstairs. Now these guys were next level annoying. They don’t usually make their noises in the morning, but usually past midnight. Just when I had put my baby daughter to sleep.
Being a tolerant neighbor, my wife and I kept it to ourselves. But sometimes, the noise became unbearable. Tables being moved, kids running around (at 3am, I mean who does that!?), loud, stomping feet. Completely fair at 3pm but not at the undgodly hour of 3am.
One day, after an exhaustive night of tables moving, kids running and feet stomping, I decided to knock on their door. I hustled upstairs around 10am and was surprised by what I found.
The house was completely empty. And it seemed as though it’s been that way for a while (you could tell by the amount of dust that accumulated on the floor, door handles etc).
My hairs stood on end. Not wanting to believe that it was supernatural, I walked over to our building manager and asked if my neighbors had recently moved out.
He had a puzzled look on his face. He asked me to reconfirm the unit, to which he replied:
“No one’s moved into that unit. Not for the past year or two at least.”
That was the moment I realized that I had poltergeists - nay - noisy, annoying poltergeists as neighbors.
I moved out 6 months later.Adlin Yusman , MART PRODUCTION
ADVERTISEMENT
He was the gayest neighbour I ever had, if that’s an adjective, casually conspicuous about it. Rare in those days in this city, and still is to a lesser extent.
But he was open, graphic, and unconcerned in his conversations, at least with me, a guy he barely knew. Maybe he was trying to be shocking but I think he was just honest. I assumed he was like that with most people.
He had a contentious relationship with his own cat, which is the first thing I learned about him. I was coming down the hall towards my apartment door. He was heading outside, toward the great outdoors, carrying a grey tabby on a wire dish drying rack.
I inquired, as one would, where he was going with the cat. Neil explained that they’d had a fight, and so the cat had to leave. The cat said nothing, so I never got the other side.
Neil never explained the dish rack. The cat was home the next time I saw Neil, all things forgiven, apparently.
He showed up on my balcony a couple of times in the middle of the night, locked out of the building and not too concerned that he was scaring the hell out of me.
One night at 2 a.m. he knocked on my door.
“There’s a lizard in my ceiling.”
OK, I thought. A lizard? Voles and field mice are the worst we’d see sneaking in from the outdoors at minus 10 degrees. No country for lizards.
I should have shut the door and filed this with the cat and dishrack mystery, but instead I went next door on a lizard hunt.
He had a panel pulled out of the ceiling, and a chair stacked on top of a bookshelf.
“I left it lettuce. It didn’t work.”
“Try cheese.” All things like cheese, or so I thought at 2 in the morning. So I went back to my kitchen and refrigerator for cheese, which Neil did not stock. We placed it on a plate, precariously, on top of the stacked furniture close to the partially dismantled ceiling.
Cheese did not work; no lizards were fooled by our amateurish methods.
I wrote it off to a Neil’s lucid imagination, but the next week our landlady informed me that an iguana had been lost by an upstairs neighbour, and recently, miraculously, recovered.
Sometime later Neil got somewhat rich on a famously fraudulent stock which he sold at the right time, before the rest of the investment world took an irrecoverable dive.
He bought a nice car. I hope he and his cat are doing well in a lizard free home somewhere.Jeff Mackenzie , Dmitry Sidorov
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
I rented a small place in an apartment house in a university town. Students must watch their pennies, so the flat was small but otherwise OK.
It turned out that the recluse old lady two floors up was throwing out the contents of her bedpan out the window. I kid you not. Every morning at about the same time, a loud gurgly splash was heard, as the old lady pitched out her bed pot contents to various directions, with the stuff variously landing in the inner yard, on neighbours’ roofs and walls and elsewhere. The police was brought in, but it turned out that at that time and place there was extremely little they could do due to privacy laws and the difficulty in dealing medically with a voluntarily holed up recluse.
Eventually the old lady passed away. When they opened her door, they found an apartment where every receptacle - bathtub, sinks, vases - was filled to the brim with bedpan contents. When she had run out of room, she’d simply taken to tossing her stuff out the windows. It turned out that her bathroom had suffered a minor plumbing malfunction, and for some reason she had not called the plumber.
H. Chris Ransford
ADVERTISEMENT
I once had a house that after buying, I was developing slowly. New carpet grass, fencing the back yard, new planted scrubs and that kind of thing. The next door neighbor was a very sarcastic guy who didn’t like any got damn thing anybody else did. For some reason unknown to me he was always trying to “start some s**t” with me.
So one Saturday I asked my Viet Nam vet friends to come over for a backyard barbeque. We were going to spit-roast a goat (cabrito). One does this over a large pit previously dug and with a large fire that has already been burning to get the fire burnt down to the coals. The neighbor had watched me digging the pit then starting this large fire in the pit.
But the surprise came when several of my vet friends showed up with a whole skinned and dressed goat on the back of their Harley Davidson bikes. We partied like it was 1969, if you know what I mean. You know, after that I never heard any more of his “[nonsense]”.
Steven Gaudry
ADVERTISEMENT
I live in an amazing part of the city. However, I unfortunately struggle with the neighbours I have. The struggle for personal space is real. Trust me!
So, here are my neighbours on all sides :
To the Right, a playground where the local kids play Cricket and what not. So, they are always hitting the ball into our house - breaking the windows and destroying the plants. And then, they climb over the wall to come in and take the ball back. They happily open the gate and walk in like it’s their property. In the nights, this playground becomes a nuisance, for you’ll find men drinking in there and creating a ruckus.
To the left is a transportation company. They are infact the better of all the neighbours I have. But, still - I get irritated when I see huge lorries from their fleet parked on the narrow lanes in my locality. C’mon this is a residential place - not your highway.
Opposite, I’ve got this Temple. Now, here is the worst aspect. People come by at all times to pray and for there is no space inside the temple to stand, they stand on the road and pray - turning into our house is hard. People would just randomly say, can’t you give us two minutes to pray and continue standing right in the middle of the road. Now, the temple also gives some food - that people eat and throw the plates right at our door step (inspite of a garbage can that’s 50 meters away).
And the other neighbour I have opposite is a super market that always has business. Which means that people park their vehicles right outside my house and disappear for hours together. Taking our vehicles out is a struggle and people do not realize this.
Yeah. So, these are the people and establishments I put up with. Always a new face everytime. And always the same story. We call the cops atleast once a week, when one of the local boys jump over our side of the wall. And we have an uproaring conversation with either the temple devotee or the supermarket folks.
Ten years hence, I’m slowly getting immune to this. However, I so wish my locality can go back to being quiet and quaint.
Kasturi Ramanathan
ADVERTISEMENT
My husband and I lived in an apartment while we were still in college. It was fairly inexpensive as we didn’t have a whole lot of money and we both were only working about 30 hours a week.
Our downstairs neighbor screamed day and night at her toddler. The toddler screamed and cried most of the day and night. There was a boyfriend that also chimed in often. Basically it was horrible, our school work suffered, we couldn’t invite people over, etc. Finally we complained to the apartment management. Then the screaming was focused on us. If we walked in the apartment, she called management on us for being too loud. We finally paid a fee to move to another apartment in the complex.
Life was far better- when we left the apartment, the management apologized to us and said that they were sad to see us go (we always paid our rent on time). I think that someone from management moved into the apartment above this woman to see just how bad it was. The apology made me think that they realized just how much we had put up with!
Kerry Hamlett Fountain
ADVERTISEMENT
I’m living through it right now.
I live in a condominium complex with over a dozen buildings. There is a condo “board” which oversees things and handles complaints. Although there are 4 board members, in reality the board is primarily one guy, and he’s been on it for about 28 years. He wants to be king and rule his kingdom with absolute authority. His law all the time for everyone. He knows all the numbers about everything in the community, which is impressive. But he also knows (or thinks he knows) the rules by heart and what is best for everyone. (He is what we gamers call a “rules lawyer.”) So everyone must toe the line of the King to the letter or else!
This gives him free rein to levy fines on anyone at any time. So for the most petty of offences people will be charged, twice. Once for the offense and once for the lawyer fees. That’s right, Mr. King makes a phone call to a lawyer and we have to pay for it. There is no appeal as Mr. King is always right and never to be questioned. Pay up or else! Your dog poops on the grass? Pay up! Your kids use colored chalk outdoors? Pay up! You use colored Christmas lights on a bush? Pay up!
My sister and I got on his bad side for a number of reasons. She opposed him on fixing and opening the pool (everyone wanted the pool to be available, he wanted to destroy it.) My sister has an elderly dog (had, it recently died) and that was a great source of income for the lawyers. My sister had a damaged basement door. She was harassed about that.
We’re trying to get him “deposed” but so few people care about the board or it’s abuses that few are willing to vote. Many think he is doing a fine job while others probably fear angering his lordship.
Come to think of it, I better go anonymous for this one. If his lordship were to discover this letter with my name on it he’d blow his gourd, phone the lawyer and force me to pay up. (Yeah, he’s a bit of a creep.)
Anonymous
ADVERTISEMENT
I moved into a house with my buddy Rob. There were 2 guys who lived across the back alley and it was painfully obvious that they had a drive-through drug market going there. People pulled up day and night, stayed for 2–3 minutes, got their package handed off, and drove away. We could see this quite clearly from our kitchen table.
One time one of them was taking a shortcut which went under a window that was in our living room. We opened the window and we could hear them out there…apparently one of them had dropped some d***s in the bushes there and we chuckled while listening to them search 2 feet away from us.
They decided to get a young pit bull and train it [‘weaponize’ as I called the process]. They kept the dog tied up in the backyard. The yards were terraced and theirs was about 4 feet higher than the next yard. In their brilliance, they chose a length of rope that allowed their dog to be hanged by the neck if he went into the next yard.
One day I walked out and saw the dog hanging over the property line, with his toes barely, barely scraping the ground. Another minute or two of this and the dog would have been strangled. I put him back in his own yard and he seemed to understand from then on.
A few months later they moved to a different neighborhood. The dog once bit a cop who was there to investigate their commercial activities. It dragged on in court and in the newspaper I read that the dog had finally been euthanized.
I felt sorry for that dog…he was a nice dog, but he had some lousy owners.
Matt Stevenson
ADVERTISEMENT
The house next door was rented by a young single mom with 2 young boys, ~ 7 & 9 years old.
She would scream those boys names onto the street, at all hours.
She would leave them alone all night, while she went down the street to f**k one of the other neighbors
The boys would take lit fire crackers, and put them in the planter drainage tubes. Then they would cover the tube with their hands or feet. How they weren’t seriously injured, I have no idea.
The boys tried to enter my other neighbor’s open window by squeezing themselves through the bars
The boys would terrorize my neighbors dog and cat
She didn’t pay her rent, so she was eventually evicted
She ended up moving into a development that was run by another neighbor’s brother. He started telling his sister “This new woman moved in. She yells ‘ constantly, from 6am till into the night. blah, blah, blah.” My friend ask her brother “Oh, that’s . Now you get to deal with her!”
Gwen S
ADVERTISEMENT
I have had a lifetime of bad neighbors. I’ll focus on the worst two.
In Arkansas, I lived in an increasingly high crime area behind a mall. At the time, I had three dogs, all of them little. The building was a duplex with three bedrooms (horridly small) and one bath. A family of six moved in next door. At first, everyone was nice as pie. My bedroom was in the back and my sister slept on the couch in the living room. After school let out for the summer, that’s when the trouble began. The kids next door and the others close by would gather at their door, yelling and screaming. One of them was only eight, and he had a foul mouth. Their mother did nothing, and the father worked until 4:30 p.m. every day. When he came home, the adults would leave until late at night. For no reason at all, the kids began knocking on the door and the window in the living room. I assumed they thought it was hilarious to hear the dogs barking. I went to the parents and the landlord. Things only became worse. Further, every time I went out with my friend, and we hugged, they began calling me a ‘lesbo.’ I tried to ignore them, but it didn’t work. I then began looking for another place to live before the landlord transferred me out. A neighbor said both families were later evicted. Why did they do it? Because their parents sucked at being adults.
In California, at my current residence, I had a female neighbor who was a mother to a small son. She also had a very friendly pit bull she used as a puppy/money making scam. When alone, she was vulgar, but nice. Her thing was working as a stripper on the weekend, so she needed a baby sitter. In comes her boyfriend. He was very cruel to her son, and smoked weed constantly (which the landlord allegedly does not allow). When she came home, the two of them would physically fight very loudly for hours. If the police was called, they did nothing. Her boyfriend moved in not long after I heard their first fight. Like clockwork, they began to fight at 11:00 p.m., and continued sometimes until dawn. Her dog had two litters of puppies, the last were given away. Her dog roamed free. The boyfriend was abusive to them and I suspect he poisoned her. Everyone close tried to help by calling every agency that could intervene for the kid and the dog. Again, nothing. It was disturbing and ultimately gave me severe anxiety. About three or four months ago, she was evicted. Her dog died. I don’t know what happened to her son. I pity whomever lives close to her now. Why? She was addicted to m**h, she had to have a man, and frankly, she was one of those folks who aren’t ready to change.
Marie South
ADVERTISEMENT
The prior owners of the house where we lived for nine years planted lovely conifer trees to the side and back of our house. The evergreen trees were thick and much nicer for privacy than a fence .
We didn’t really know our relatively new neighbors next door but they were quiet, kept up their property, and said hello whenever we passed each other on walks.
Then one day we came home and the evergreens between our property and our neighbor’s property had been cut down. We aren’t people to storm over to anyone’s house so we calmed down a bit then approached them about it.
Well, they hired someone to survey the property line and discovered that the trees between our house and theirs were actually on their property. They wanted a fence rather than the trees so they hired someone to cut them down.
I know some of you will ask why didn’t we sue them. There’s merit to that question but even if we discovered the trees had been on our side, it would take 15 years for newly planted trees to grow back. And we suspected the survey was accurate or they wouldn’t have done it.
Plus, the wife’s brother was a lawyer and I’m sure they ran it past him before they did anything.
It didn’t kill our relationship because we really hadn’t established a relationship to begin with.
We moved 2 years later, not because of the trees but for other reasons. It is too bad that they didn’t discuss it with us first. Perhaps we could have come up with a solution that satisfied both parties.
Kathy Pennell
ADVERTISEMENT
I lived in the second floor of a two-story garden apt complex. There were concrete and metal stairs outside leading up to it.
The man downstairs was big and fat but looked sort of dangerous. Definitely not someone to mess with.
He worked the night shift as a security guard and slept during the day.
We’d come home from work about six, walk up the stairs and start making dinner or whatever.
One night, about a week after we moved in, he came up the stairs with a baseball bat. He said, and I quote, “You make me angry. I haven't been angry since Vietnam”.
I was polite but firm. I told him we had a right to walk up our stairs and be in our apartment walking around during normal hours. It wasn't our fault he slept during the day. He muttered something about being there 20 years and left.
I think it was shortly thereafter that he threatened to kill our (little) dog if it ever barked again.
I didn't care for our dog particularly, but would never want to see an animal get hurt. My girlfriend at the time never would have gotten over it had the dog been harmed.
I went to the apt complex management to complain he was threatening me and they should do something. They seemed scared of him and said they wouldn't do anything. I started yelling and they called the police on me! When the police arrived, they said they couldn't really do anything about it.
I moved to another apt the next day.
Thinking back 30 years, now I know why that apt was vacant when were apt hunting. Clearly that was not the first time this story had played out.
Bruce Epstein
ADVERTISEMENT
So apparently I could know what the other lady cooking. Sometimes I could even smell the dishes being cooked. We would usually talk with each other while cooking. Share recipes with the other. Then that family moved, and a new one came in.
We had spoken to them once or twice. One day I heard her cooking in the kitchen, I called out to her,
“Hey Hi! What you doing?”
“Cooking. You do something else in the kitchen?”
“Uhmm no. Haha. I smell biryani actually. So….”
“What? How? You can see that much?”
“No. I just smelt….”
“Can we talk later? I need to go.”
And just then, without a warning, she stormed off the kitchen, switching off the gas as well as the kitchen lights.
Next day I found she had closed the kitchen window. And a few days later they put up a fence between our houses.
My husband says I intruded in her personal space.
I love talking to people. But I think I need to know my audience first.
We stayed beside them for over 6 months till we shifted. She never spoke to me. I have no idea what triggered her against me.Shefali Naidu , RDNE Stock project
ADVERTISEMENT