Neighbors: Past, Present, and Future

Over the course of my lifetime, I have had a multitude and diverse group of neighbors. From childhood to now, I’ve had great neighbors, horrible neighbors, and downright bizarre neighbors who have all impacted my life. Mainly, these people have provided me with the opportunity to write about them in the past few years.

I’m obviously going to stick to the downright awful people who have been my neighbors because that’s just the kind of guy I am. I do want to shout out my very first neighbors though, who I grew up with. I grew up living next door to my best friend. He moved in right before kindergarten started and that just made the bar for neighbors way too high.

Everywhere I’ve moved since then, I’ve just assumed that my next door neighbor was going to be my best friend. I was very wrong. I went to college and I roomed with that same best friend, which didn’t help me with reality, but then I transferred. I finally had to move in with someone I didn’t know.

This guy was alright at first and he really was a nice guy, but he had some fucked up habits. He would chew tobacco, so there were about twenty-five water bottles open and unopened sitting around the room half-filled with tobacco spit. That didn’t really bother me to be honest. What really got me was that at night, I started hearing this noise. The same sound as when you fill a water bottle in the sink. Yes, this mother fucker was pissing in water bottles in the middle of the night.

When I asked him why, he told me it was because the bathroom is really far. I don’t know what distance qualifies as an acceptable distance to piss in a water bottle, but “down the hallway”, is not that distance.

After college, I moved back home for a year. We had these new neighbors across the street from our house. A woman had recently moved into it and started running three separate illegal apartments. These people were not bad at first but then one night they came up to our door and tried to fight my mom. To be fair, my mom was watching them out the window as they shined a flashlight into my dad’s car for a few minutes. Naturally, I lost my temper outside of our house and the police were called, and we looked like absolute white trash. But when you call someone’s mother a cunt, I think that means YOU’RE the bad neighbor.

Finally, I moved back into my own apartment. At the time, I was living with my ex. She had a lot of trouble sleeping and the guy living below us would always play Call of Duty, really loudly. Like, so loud I could count his k/d ratio and knew exactly how many headshots he got per game. To me, I could’ve slept right through this. This guy also happened to be a drug dealer and our apartment would smell like weed very often, which again, wouldn’t really bother me all that much.

The ex didn’t like this though. So, almost every other night for the few weeks we ended up living together, I would have to go downstairs and talk to this guy about how loud it was. I was the bad neighbor, not him. It was a college housing apartment. This guy wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just a guy who seemed like a grandpa yelling, “get off my lawn.”

After this, I moved to Las Vegas and had a slew of bad neighbors. If you have followed my blog from the beginning, you know about the fat mamalukes, the guy who wanted to use my toe nail clipper, and the magic carpet lady.

I’m not going to go into detail with these people because you can just go back and read it. But to summarize the mamalukes, I had these people living in the house I was renting. They were more like roommates than neighbors. They lived with me for two weeks, in which they didn’t leave the living room ever, except for one night.

That night, they came home with the ingredients for alfredo sauce. Which to them, was a jar of alfredo and gallon of whole milk. They proceeded to eat a pound of pasta with alfredo sauce and drink whole milk and I guess they weren’t lactose intolerant because they were also taking laxatives for some reason this night. They would walk in and out of my bathroom, just absolutely destroying it. I think I cried that night, if I’m remembering correctly.

Now, that I live in Raleigh, I still thought we were going to move in, and we would become friends with our neighbors. Not quite. We have a girl who lives downstairs who we thought was cool, but we recently found out that there’s something a little off about her.

We were, coming home from the bar one Sunday afternoon around five. She was standing outside the apartment and she looked like she was about to cry. I couldn’t just walk by her. Not because I feel the need to console people, but more for selfish reasons and curiosity. I asked her what was wrong.

She proceeded to tell us that her kids locked her out of the apartment while she was walking her dog. At first, I didn’t think anything of this. It seemed like a very real possibility. We decided to help her. I hoisted my wife up into the window of her first floor apartment. What my wife noticed as soon as she got into the apartment was that the kids were sleeping and the dog was inside. I realized the same thing on the outside. Where was the dog she was walking?

So, my wife is now in the apartment, with a dog who had once tried to attack me and my dog. This lady outside with me now says, “thank god you guys are up so early this morning, I don’t what I would’ve done without you.” Like I said before it was five in the afternoon. Five p.m.

My wife walks out of the apartment and we go back upstairs, thoroughly confused. We really have no idea what was going on to this day and we don’t have enough information to make any inferences.

My point of writing this blog, is that soon, we will be looking at homes. I will not be the guy, looking at floor jams or hot water heaters. I don’t care about the air conditioning. I’m not the guy who will know anything about that stuff. I’m going to be the guy that walks around to all the neighbors houses and knocks on the god damn doors. I’m going to fucking canvas the whole neighborhood. That’s what I’m good at. I know within minutes of meeting someone, if they’ll be normal enough for me to take out the biggest loan of my damn life.

Published by Your Cousin Vinny

I'm just a guy, who really is trying to figure out what the move is.

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