Tuesday, February 27, 2007

PSA - Don't Be A Stupid Neighbor

We currently live in a townhouse. Dear looorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrd I cannot wait to move and normally I would rather stick jalapeno peppers up my nose than go through the hassle of moving.

The house is fine, although we could use more room. The development is not bad, its a small court surrounded by trees. Most of the people are great, but we have had some interesting characters over the last few years.

The guy that lived next door started off okay but then he got a little weird.

Ok, he got a LOT weird.

And he started dating girls that were usually between 18 and 22, often with drinking problems. Duh-RAMA every night. They'd come staggering in around 1am and either start shrieking at each other or start tearing each other's clothes off and shrieking at the ceiling. Either way, we, the unhappy neighbors who share a bedroom wall, did not get much sleep.

And at least twice a month he and his current poptart would get into a huge screaming "I am SO breaking up with you!!" fight and someone's belongings would be thrown across the postage stamp-sized front yard.

(the winning fight was the one in which she and her friends were gathering her clothes up, screaming at the house and as it was a Saturday morning, plenty of people were out and about. Suddenly, he threw open the front door, shaking a rhinestone-Beadazzled bag in front of him and yowled "And HERE'S ALL YOUR DILDOS!!!" and flung the unzipped bag toward the street. Yes. Unzipped. The law of physics being what it is, well... do the math.)

Anyway, he got progressively angrier and weirder and eventually sold the house. There was MUCH rejoicing. The house was purchased with the intent to resell and it stayed empty for about 6 blessedly quiet months.

The couple that live there now are nice enough most of the time but prone to drama. And loud drunken arguments wherein she will apparently lock herself into the bathroom and he will stand outside the door yelling "I wanna talk to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu. I luuuuuuuuuuv youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu." Worse are the drunken arguments where things are being thrown against walls and I have to call the police because it sounds like domestic violence going on. Last week, they got mad at each other and he locked her out when she went out to her car. So she pounded on the door so loud, she woke up out baby. He'd open the door, yell at her, shut the door & lock it.
She'd pound on the door, yell at him and make him mad enough to open up and yell some more.

So. Much. Drama. All. The. Time.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

They let their dog crap right outside my back gate and then act surprised when I politely ask that it be cleaned up.

They cannot shut doors like normal people. Every door must be slammed so hard, MY house shakes. In fact, we had a break-in back in September and the thief was IN the house with me and the baby. He must have heard me and ran out the back door (stole a PS1 and my digital camera). I heard the door slam and assumed it was the freaking neighbors. It was only later that I figured it out.

Someone over there is learning to play bass guitar. It's so loud, my floor vibrates. They try to keep it at a civilized hour, but when the floor vibrations start making your teeth ache, who cares what time it is??? Plus, they only know the intros to two songs. That's it. Over and over and over.

And elderly man has moved in on the other side of them. I feel sorry for the man. Welcome to the neighborhood, we got KLASS. (And that's with a capital K.)

I cringe, too, because I suspect that I was just as much of a pain in people's asses as these too when I was 20. It makes me want to go back in time and slap myself.

I hate moving, I hate moving, I HATE moving, but I will move my entire house in trashbags and a broken-down Festiva in order to gain some peace.

3 comments:

That Chick Over There said...

Okay, I know this is a serious subject but I laughed out loud at the bedazzled dildo bag.

Gerbil said...

It was one of those things that had to be seen to be believed.

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