My neighborhood is rather old and, some might say, charming. Realtors call it "desirable," but to me, that's a word best and only used in romance novels. Our houses share an alley with the houses behind us.
A couple years ago, new neighbors moved in behind us, about 2 houses down. They tore down the nice little one-car garage, which meshed with the relative quaintness of the block, and built this massive 2-story structure, big enough to block all available sunlight, conduct a probably illegal car-repair business and house the occasional ne'r-do-well relative from Gloucester, one of whom gave Remy a black eye. Other neighbors have called the cops on them because of "excessive trash" and having too many cars on their property.
Now, we don't really know these people well, and we don't care to. Their kids are creepy--if it's ok to call kids creepy, and I think it is; they have this vacant, children-of-the-corn quality.
So we don't talk to them, and we're not talking to psycho-daughter's family anymore.
A new family moved in next door several months ago: a woman, a man and a little boy. (We say hello, but that's about where our communication with them ends.) It was our understanding that this was not a nuclear family. A boyfriend? The kid's dad? The boy's not there all the time. But the boy and the guy have the same name? What gives? We don't know. I was tempted to find out as I started out on a walk one evening a little while ago, when I heard this:
"NO, Billy, you're a fucking asshole! Fuck YOU!"
Followed by sounds of male mumbling.
"I was in my FUCKING OFFICE, BILLY. You're an IDIOT! FUCK YOU!"
More male mumbling, followed by more very loud cursing. Their windows were open, of course.
This kind of arguing really makes me nervous and uncomfortable. I don't argue like this, but I know people do, and I envy them for it: they can REALLY let their feelings out! That's healthy!
I stopped on the porch, and could see them in the kitchen window. Then I did what any good neighbor would do: I crouched down, tiptoed off the porch and snuck closer to the fence to listen in. Then I continued walking, and could hear them a block away.
This was to be the first of an ongoing series of shrieking, obscenity-laced arguments I've heard coming from their house. I don't know these people, except she works (in a fucking office somewhere) and he, apparently, does not. He comes outside to mow the lawn, sand the random dresser, smoke cigarettes and cough and spit in the yard.
Oh, and they also have two pit bulls.
I guess I should try to love my neighbors, but here's how I see it: they're all frigging crazy.
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4 comments:
So, at some point you have to ask yourself, are all your neighbors rude and crazy? Or maybe are you the crazy one?
I asked myself that a long time ago. I'll admit to being a little eccentric, and I'm sure I annoy the neighbors by hanging my laundry out to dry.
But our other neighbors are sweet as pie, and the older couple across the street are fine...even if unlicensed cars mysteriously appear and disappear at all hours in front of their house. And did I mention the guy's missing some fingers?
Oh baby! May I bitch and moan a bit too about my lovely neighbors? At least you have a bit of space btwn your homes. Living in townhomes, one gets to deal with so much more FUN when one's neighbor is sharing your wall too!
The old lady who lives next to one side of us dates a DEALER. Her boyfriend is a "psychiatrist" who sells "legal" weed (because his "patients" NEED it). We get "patients" mistakedly coming to our home in the middle of the night looking for their score (oops! I mean getting their M E D I C A T I O N). But the "doc" must do group therapy b/c there are always three or four "patients" visiting at one time. Plus, he must be a great healer because his patients leave within the first 5 minutes of arriving!
Meanwhile on the OTHER side of us are neurotic, paranoid, ANGRY drunks who smoke about 8 packs of cigarettes a day, (apiece!) who sit out in their garage on camping chairs during the afternoon, eyeing all the neighbors and at the ready to punch someone out! Meanwhile, their chubby redheaded psycho-child runs rampant in the complex abusing animals and picking all the flowers off the bushes. Oh! and the Mom is the president of our homeowners association. (No, we did not vote for her!) Plus, they have a BBQ biz on the side where they store TONS of mesquite wood and have ten smokers fired up at once, cooking all types of flesh. (Nope, don't want to know what type of flesh they cook-although I must say I've seen less squirrels and birds lately, and the rat invasion has ceased.) So all year 'round, our home has a woodsy, bacony kind of smell! I could go on, but I shall stop. But hey, thanks for letting me vent.
Geez, Mer. Ya know, maybe NY is looking pretty good after all...
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