At least the rent was cheap

After a long day of watching children, taking a walk in the scorching heat, and generally being an unemployed cad, I have realized that it's time for a post over here in blog central!

As promised, I have decided to give you sweet people horror stories of bad neighbors. Of course, I want to hear about your un-neighborly neighbors as well. We can't all live in Mr. Roger's hood, can we? Disclaimer: I PROMISE I have made none of this up- oh yeah, it's for real!

Columbia Heights, Washington D.C.1997-1998 (Thanks Skylor!)

If you don't know about CH and how it is, that is good. It's a lot better than it was, but it still is not great. I lived in an apartment that used to be an illegal speakeasy (you youngsters reading this- go look that word up on wikipedia). It was a sketchy neighborhood. The house across the street was a home for wayward girls. All sorts of foolishness at all hours of the day and night. One morning, I was woken up to the piercing cry of FBI followed by the sweet repetitive cadence of a battering ram smashing down the neighbor's door. Awesome. 

We had a crack dealer up the street. As I walked home from work he would invariably shuffle in my direction whispering "crack, crack." My daily response was "no thanks." One time my roommate and I called 911 on the guy because he was about to beat the stuffing out of a girl. 

Speaking of 911- we typed those digits quite often. One time, we saw smoke spewing out of the apt. building across the way. Turns out someone stole a convertible and torched it. That was something else! It's never a good feeling when you get a busy signal for 911!!!!

The best one, however, was when I was looking at the newspaper the weekend we moved in. There was a gruesome story about a headless torso  found in a garbage can. I did some mental geography and realized that said garbage can was one block from our new pad!!!! Fantastic. Turns out it was a serial killer going after prostitutes...

Somerville, Massachusetts 1999-2000

The guy who lived below me and my roommate was scary. He was about seven feet tall and worked out like a maniac. I never once saw him go to work. I made sure to say "yes, sir" the two times I spoke to him.

Danvers, Massachusetts August 2000 to January 2001

  

This was my first year teaching. I lived on the top floor of an "apartmentalized" house. The guy below me was a sick, sick drunk who beat the crap out of his wife every day. Listening to this while trying to craft lesson plans was tough. One night, his buddy (who lived on the 1st floor) tried to knock my door down and beat the you-know-what out of me.  Luckily for him, he couldn't get in or he would have met his maker since I almost earned my white belt in karate! Also, I had to create an excel spreadsheet for the times and dates I called the cops on liquorboy downstairs. He was older than dirt too.I got the hell out of there fast. Good times. I used to fantasize about pouring sugar in the gas tank of his Ted Bundy van.

Chester, Virginia circa 2002

This is nothing compared to the above idiocy. The guy living upstairs from me had a really big girlfriend who shook my apartment every time she walked around.  Then, thankfully, he moved away! 

Midlothian, Virginia 2004-present

Kim and I were taking a walk the other evening and the dude who lives three houses up from us asked us if we live in the neighborhood. Ah, we've been here for about nine years. Oh yeah, and I say hi to you on a regular basis.

I'm so thankful for everything I have and where I live!