No, we aren't moving again (thankfully). And to the best of our knowledge, nobody on our street is selling their home. But the next time we do move, there will be some pre-interviews to find out what we're dealing with before taking the plunge.
Ryan and I have moved 4 times in the nearly 8 years
that we have been together, and it wasn’t until recently at lunch with friends
that we realized just how bad our luck with neighbors has been. As we were
reminiscing, the stories really started piling up. Join me on a walk down the
strange avenues we have lived on:
The
Stalker
When we moved into the first home we purchased, a man
was standing in our driveway when the moving truck pulled in, waiting to
introduce himself. How long he had been there or how he knew what day we would
be arriving is, to this day, a mystery. After exchanging pleasantries, our new
neighbor handed us a SEVEN page poem he had written about a Bible story, along
with a letter detailing how he enjoys reading these poems to small children he
meets while running errands. As if that isn’t creepy enough, there at the top
of the first page was our engagement photo and our names. OUR ENGAGEMENT PHOTO!
That you can’t find on Google….trust me, I have looked.
The
Swingers
At that same home, the couple across the street owned a
snow blower, and a couple times each winter, would snow blow our double
sidewalk and dig our fire hydrant out. As a thank you, I always prepared some
kind of homemade goodie and we would walk across the street to deliver them.
Like in a movie, after we knocked on the door, we could hear several locks
being undone on the other side of the door, before the husband opened it just
enough to stick his head out the door, grab the treats, close the door, and lock
all 7 locks. I would see the same couple pretty often at our neighborhood nail
salon, always with another couple, always sitting in pedicure chairs in every
other person fashion, always holding hands and putting on a PDA show with the
other couple.
The
Witch
Most neighborhoods have one of these, and ours was a
real doozy. Our backyard was in a valley, and this neighbor was up on top of a
small hill. She would constantly point her gutter drain hose directly INTO our
backyard, so it would routinely flood. We thought maybe we could have a civil
conversation with her about it and see if she would kindly put it on her own
property. Which would have been a great plan if she would have EVER spoken to
us, but even when we said hello, she would look right through us and refuse to
speak, but she did make sure to flip us off every time she
drove by.
The Dog
Owner
Before we lived in a house with a fence, we had to take
Mia outside on a leash to do her business. One afternoon, Ryan was outside with
her when a small dog wandered directly into our yard and walked right up to
them. Ryan told Mia to sit and to be a good neighbor. The two dogs sat down,
facing one another, and things seemed to be going well until the small dog
(it’s ALWAYS the small dog, isn’t it?) reached a paw right up and booped Mia’s
nose. Now, I wasn’t there, but Ryan assures me that in a split second, Mia took
one paw and had the small dog pinned to the ground, letting it know that it
couldn’t come into our yard, start a fight, and be welcomed. Ryan handled it
quickly and told Mia they were going inside until the rude four legged neighbor
left. Approximately three minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Ryan
opened it to find SOMEONE WE WENT TO CHURCH WITH, asking if we had seen his
small dog that got loose. Oh, the one that assaulted our dog and that our dog
could have torn to pieces in five seconds had Ryan not been there? Nope,
haven’t seen her.
The
(Alleged) Drug Dealer
Our next neighbor was one for the books. Picture a half-naked
(always), nice, but way too loud character who stood outside and argued with
his wife who was inside. Now imagine that for 10 hours a day, every day, a slew
of shady looking cars pulled into the middle of the street, left the car
running, and had one person jump out, run inside the house, emerge three
minutes later, and speed off shortly before the next arrived. I always said I
don’t believe they were smart enough to cook meth, so I’m pretty sure it was
only a misdemeanor. Really, the nicest guy though. He always invited Ryan to go
fishing, and offered up his wife as a babysitter for us. It was of course a
hard pass from us, but he really did try to be our friend. And after a quick
tally, we both voted him in as our favorite, which should really tell you
something about our luck.
The
Driveway Patrol
For a very brief period of time, the street we lived on
was having work done and we could not use it. Clark was very small and I had
just gotten out of the hospital after an episode of a racing heart and
fainting. Our only options were to either park 3 blocks away, or to use our
backyard. We decided to use the backyard since it would only be a day or two.
Up until that point, our neighbors were very friendly and we would always speak
to one another. In order to access our backyard, we had to put two car tires on
the corner of the very end of said neighbor’s driveway. Thinking it wouldn’t be
an issue, we drove two tires on the last square of driveway that touched the
street. We were very wrong. The next day, we awoke to find a lengthy note on
our windshield about respect and our lack of it. We half considered leaving him
a note about walking through our yard to place the note on our car, but chose
to be the bigger people and never speak to them again, and then move.
The Hot
Mess
The first time I met our current neighbors, they were
plastered and snuck up behind me while I was getting Clark out of the carseat,
and drunkenly asked me if he was just getting home from daycare…at 8pm. The
second time I saw them, the boyfriend was being taken out of the house in
cuffs. The third time, she was being taken out of the house on a stretcher. The
fourth time, I saw her half-dressed at midnight with a firetruck outside. And
the fifth time, she arrived on our front porch needing to use a phone. I gave
her mine, she struggled to dial, and then looked at me and said “I forgot my
mom is dead. I can’t call her.”
