Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Josh isn't home, man!

My family grew up next to a rental home in a vacation friendly area, so much of the time it was occupied by people just staying for the summer. Almost always they were polite and respectful of the family community they were living in, but we had a few terrible tenants.

One group that stayed was the typical "It's summer, let's get drunk!" and "It's after 3pm, let's get drunk" crowd. I was offered "a little something" almost daily...and I was 8 at the time. No one was ever sure of the exact number of people living there, because there were never less than 12 or 14 people coming out of the house in the morning. Every night there seemed to be people we'd never seen before, showing up, drinking, screaming, and some sleeping on the grass. Half of them didn't even know who's home they were going to...just a "wild place."

One night I woke up to someone knocking on our front door. I ignored it...I was only a kid at the time and I wasn't answering the door at 3 am. The knocking continued and increased till it woke up my very very heavy sleeping father. As he walked down the stairs the banging only increased, till it was shaking the windows in the house.

Right as my father got to the front room, their was a horrible "CRASH". I could tell glass had broken. Then I heard my father yelling. I ran downstairs thinking I had to call the police, and I could see my father standing at the front door. The front of our home was completely surrounded by huge windows, and the largest one was shattered as though a bomb had gone through it.

My father opened the front door to a man in his underwear. "What the F*&^ are you DOING?!!??" he said.

"Uh....sorry dude......wrong house. This isn't Josh's"

My father was speechless for a minute.

"I feel asleep out here, and I was trying to get back in the house"

Yeah. He'd fallen asleep in our neighbors lawn, in his underwear, and tried to get back in the house by breaking our windows out. And he was at the wrong house.

I've never seen my father so angry. The neighbors response? "We don't really KNOW him. He's not our friend, so it's not really our fault. He just showed up".

They still had to pay to fix and clean up after their non friend.

To Grandma's house we...errr....um...

I was caught in a neighbor war.

I lived very pleasantly next door to a family who had owned their house for several generations. Next to them was an very old, run down home. When the neighbor living their died, a couple came around looking at the home. They seemed very sweet, quiet, and polite. They eventually tracked down the family of the neighbor who died, and bought the home, saying it reminded them of "grandma's house". They also tried to buy my neighbors home, for "family".

As soon as they owned it, though, they razed it to the ground. So much for grandma's house! In it's place they erected TWO town homes, living in one and selling the other to family. They also paved the bit of yard that was left, using it to park 3 cars on risers and a boat...in their front yard. They said it was more "EnviromInt friendly. Cause you don't gotta to use water on cement". Then they began to "suggest" that my neighbor do the same, because, "Grass messes up our yard (cement). And it's dirty." They would stand on their deck, which they had built right outside my neighbors bedroom, and carry on about how horrible her home looked and how happy our town should be that THEY were here to improve the city's image. They would hold parties till 5 am almost every night, and "accidentally" let their garbage fall over the fence into my neighbors lawn...as if it would jump over a 5 foot fence by accident. They would hold parties to invite out of town friends to move in...every time saying that their whole block was moving soon, and these "practically abandoned" homes would be available to build on soon.

My next door neighbor retaliated in fine fashion. She was well-known for her work with the local environment. As such, she began to take tours around our town, showing how locals where helping or harming the environment. Her neighbors homes were always the last stop in the "harming" part of the tour. She was also able to get enough support from our neighborhood to have a large compost area in her backyard...right next to our neighbors living and bedroom. It was worth the smell to watch our neighbors try and not vomit.

The last was when our neighbors contacted a friend who worked for a regional home magazine. They asked to have their home featured in an article detailing how they were "rejuvenating" our town. They neither worked in the town nor took part in anything related to town repair or rebuilding....in fact they had shut the door on the local Red Cross when they asked for volunteers to help the hurricane victims. They told them to "help their own damn selves...it's not our problem".

On the day of the photo shoot, the family awoke and walked outside...to find my next door neighbors home painted wild, hideous shades. It had orange splatter on the roof, green and purple shutters, pink steps, brown stripes...you name it, it was on there. My neighbor also planted HUGE plastic flamingos in the yard, and hung wind chimes from every window. Try as he might, the photographer could not get a single good shot of the home without including that eyesore because they had built so close to her, and trying to photo shop left a huge blank spot next to the house. His boss decided to have an article on our "quirky" town instead, and my next door neighbor was showcased on the cover as "artsy" and "bohemian".

The nasty neighbors were gone soon after, saying that no one here "appreciated" them.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Laundry Lothario

During the summer I moved home from college, a Marine moved in to the home behind mine. I didn't really pay any attention to him, until I noticed he seemed to always be around when I was outside, or doing laundry or even yard work at odd hours.

One night, as I was going to sleep, I switched off the light and saw something outside moving around. When I looked out the window, I saw the definite shape of my neighbor, standing in his laundry room with the light on. Next it registered that he was nude....and touching himself. I was very embarrassed at catching him...especially when I realized he was looking right at me. I had no idea how to react, except to try and pretend I hadn't been staring right at his junk.

I guess this just encouraged him, because I kept "catching" him nude or almost nude all the time after that. He would sit out on the deck "sunbathing", and walked to and from his laundry room, which was separated from his main house, with just the basket covering him. I didn't think I should really be accepting of his behavior, but I was an adult and didn't want to seem like a prude, either. And he was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

Things took at turn for the weird when my mom came into the living room one day, looking very shocked. "I...I think...I think the neighbor was just trying to get me to watch him...". She was shaken and a bit angry, and determined to deal with it. So she stormed out and over to his house.

When she got back, she told me we needed to talk. Apparently, he was very upfront with her. He told her he was sorry, that he had mistaken her for her "sister", and that it was an erotic game that they had been playing. He somehow missed that my whole family lived there. And now, thanks to this whacko, my whole family has labeled me "deviant".
--Anonymous

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Breaking and Eating


When my husband and I were building our home, we had to rent another for a few months until it was finished.

The day we looked at the house, the landlady looked at me and asked, "What are you"? My mother is from the Philippines, so I have dark skin and hair. My husband and I chalked it up to ignorance. The house was the only one within our price range, so we took it.

The day we moved in, I heard a knock on the door. I didn't answer right away and there was only one knock before it stopped. But then I heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen. When I went downstairs, my landlady was going through my cabinets like it was no big deal. I asked her why she had just walked in.

"This is my damn house, and I'll come in it whenever I want. If you don't like that I'll throw you out on your foreign ass, you hear me"? I had no idea what to say, but asked her politely to leave and not just walk into the house.

A few days later, my husband was sitting in the living room when a man opened the door and walked in! My husband jumped up and asked what he wanted. "Doris told me I could come get her A/C unit. It's upstairs in the window". My husband told the man that we lived there, not our landlady, that we would not be taking things out of the house to give to random strangers, and to never come in our home again. He left, and not twenty minutes later our landlady was calling to tell us it was HER house and HER A/C unit, and if we didn't like it, he could take his "mail-order-bride and get out".

We called the cops, and they told us to change the locks. They told our landlady she needed to give us 24 hours notice to enter the house, and she had to have good reason.

We thought the problem was solved, until we left for Thanksgiving. When we got back and opened the door, we were greeted by the smell of dead flesh. My husband walked in and found a whole turkey carcass rotting on the stove, with maggots actually crawling around on it. All our best dishes were dirty in the sink. We called the cops to figure out what we could do, and they called our landlady.

"They didn't tell me they were leaving, so I couldn't give them notice. The wife probably got deported. They have a lot more room there than I do, and I don't have all the stuff to cook like they do. They have it in MY house, anyway."

She had broken in to cook Thanksgiving dinner at OUR home, because she had seen all my nice cookware and china when she was rummaging in the house. Then she had left everything in the sink and on the counter. She had also left two garbage cans full of liquor bottles out back. The best part was that she left the oven on the ENTIRE time we were gone....about a week and a half since Thanksgiving.

Then she tried to charge us when the heating elements in the oven broke.

---Contributed by Still Can't Eat Turkey

Frat Boy Bummer



The home my family owned growing up was a "twin" the the one next door exactly the same. They both had a large overhanging roof big enough to walk on, and I used to climb out my window and read up there. This wasn't a problem except for one thing: the two homes were less than 6 feet apart from each other. Even as a teenager, I could stand between both houses, hold out my arms, and touch the side of each house. The twin house was being rented by a bunch of college guys.

One night I heard a cop car. I could hear the cops saying there was a complaint of noise and possible underage drinking. Except that it looked like the only people home were these 4 guys. Then I heard a noise outside my bedroom window. I looked out to the twin homes window, and realized that there were dozens of shadows on the roof! These guys had a bunch of underage kids over, and when the cops showed up, they sent them out onto the roof to hide. I guess they didn't see me looking, because they started jumping across to OUR roof and hiding on the top of our house!!!

Right then, my dad came running in.

"What the hell sounds like dozens of people running around on our roof?!?"

"Dozens of people running around on our roof" I said.

He looked out, and as none of the kids had realized that we could HEAR them yet, went down to speak with the officers. One came up and stood by my window, and one stood on the other side. Then they both stuck their head out.

The kids, completely freaked out, did what they expected...they started jumping off the roof. It was actually not that high, and they were laughing at their getaway....until they realized there were a few more officers on the ground waiting to cuff them as they landed. The cops stood there counting how many they each caught, and everyone in the neighborhood was out by now laughing at the situation.

The frat boys were gone by the end of the week.

---Contribution by H.

Drag Me to Heck




I grew up in a very small town, with a main street and everything. From the day we moved in, when I was just a year old, my family had encounters with the family across the street from us.

They had a daughter a year younger than me, and it turned out she wasn't entirely mentally stable. She would ask me to play, and the next day threaten me, saying she "knew what was said". Most of the time, I never knew what she was talking about.

By the time I was in high school, we barely had contact, but for some reason she told people I was her "best friend for life". Then one evening she showed up at my front door. My mom answered and she started in very quickly.

"Tell your daughter that I don't care if she thinks she's my best friend. I'm going to kick her ass all over this town. You hear me? I'm going to kill her." Of course, my mom had no idea what was going on, and asked her what was going on. I could hear them talking, so I walked out to the front door. When she saw me, she smiled and grabbed me in a hug.

"You know we're best friends, right? But I know you were talking to Melissa. So I'm going to have to kill you".

She held out her hands, looked up in the air, and spit straight up. Then she started to spin and chant. Finally, she leaned an inch from my face and opened her eyes as wide as she could. Then she stepped back, smiled at me, and thanked my mom for giving me the message.

"I just gave you the evil eye. I had to curse you. I'm sorry. I will come to your funeral, though. We'll always be best friends".

My mom and I just stood there staring at her. Then we lost it in laughter, doubled over on the front porch.

The "evil eye" never took effect.


---Courtesy of Me

WELCOME HOME!!!


Hey there! Welcome!!!

Home is where the heart is. Home is a fortress from the worlds trials. But sometimes it becomes a war zone. Sometimes there are those who intrude on your peaceful existence.

The Neighbor From Hell.

How about Too Friendly Neighbor: They introduce themselves, and then suddenly see themselves as an extended member of your family, with permission to enter your life and home at will? They have far more information on you and loved ones than you've ever given, and sometimes you check for hidden cameras just to be sure...

Mr. By The Book: everything you do is monitored and checked against city ordinances, from the color of your siding to the distance of your garbage cans from the sidewalk. It doesn't matter if his home isn't measuring up...it's your grass that's looking a little overgrown.

Ms. "Just a Suggestion": She's so helpful. Whatever you do, she has a better way. She knows how you should be tending your garden, training your dog, feeding your children, and cutting your lawn. She gives and endless stream of "helpful hints". And she can't understand why you don't answer the phone anymore.


I know you've got stories, so send them to me at TheNeighborFromHell@gmail.com. Let me know if you'd like to be named, or if you'd like to be anonymous.

Sometimes, home is where the Hate is.