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Posts Tagged ‘bad neighbors’

A Moron in the Snow

Yesterday morning, to my delight, I looked out the window only to see James attempting to sweep the new-fallen snow from out in front of his car with—you guessed it—a broom. Michael thinks that he refuses to use either of the two snow shovels that are kept in the basement because neither of them belong to him, and it’s some sort of pride thing. I think he’s just a lazy dirtbag that didn’t want to shovel snow. Regardless, the fact of the matter is he opted for the broom. I didn’t think to grab my camera and capture the whole process until after he was done sweeping. At this point, I think he thought he did a sufficient job and would then be able to get out of his spot. Here he is, about to get in the car.

Time: 7:43 am

Rolling back and forth, trying to get some momentum going. Time: 7:46 am

Almost there, but could go no further. Time: 7:46 am

Then, he sat in the car for 10 whole minutes not doing anything. Maybe he was thinking about how much of a moron he is.

Time of defeat: 7:56 am

He did eventually get out, although I don’t know how—and then the Plow Boy came about 5 minutes later and plowed the whole driveway. HA!

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As you may have noticed, we got quite a blizzard here in New Jersey on Sunday and Monday. When all was said and done, I’d say we got a little under two feet. It sure took a lot of work to shovel our cars out! I went out once on Sunday night and did one round of preliminary shoveling, but by Monday morning, we could hardly tell that I did anything. After the Plow Boy came and plowed the majority of our driveway, we spent the next hour or so digging out our cars. A little while later, we had some pretty clean spots on our hands. After we were done, our neighbor Hugh also went out and dug his car out as well. While Michael and I were shoveling, neighbor James—the dirtbag—came outside. He dug his car out just enough to be able to pull out of his spot and into a faux spot in front of the garage (where, as per our landlord’s instructions, we are not supposed to park). He proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes cleaning every flake of snow off of his car, then went inside, leaving a gigantic wall of snow behind. Here is photographic evidence of his heinous crime. I took the photo from our bedroom window, but you can still make out the wall.

I can’t imagine he’s waiting for me to move my car so he can steal my spot…not after Michael called him out on doing it last year. But in the back of my mind, I still have a really bad feeling. I have to go to the grocery store soon, and I hate to think about where his car is going to be when I get back. I will say this—if he steals any of our spots, there’s going to be some sort of fight.

I really hate this dude’s guts.

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I don’t want to leave anybody hanging when it comes to the Bad Neighbor Saga, so I’ll give you a quick recap of the last major event that’s occurred since the infamous Trash Dump of 2010. A day or so after I wrote that last blog, Michael went over and knocked on their door after work. Their lights were on and their car was in the driveway, but no one came to the door when he knocked. Lame! He went over again the next night—I would have gone with him, but I was working late that night. When I got home, he gave me a summary of what went down. I actually asked him to write a guest blog post so that you wouldn’t be getting second-hand information, but he’s been busy at work. Perhaps in the coming days he’ll be able to supplement this post with some choice quotations or his own personal take on things.

This is the long and short of it: he started out by asking about the box of trash and telling them that we were offended by the note. They instantly began backpedaling and saying that it was really meant for Hugh, which is a load of poo. If it was for Hugh, why was the note addressed to “Everyone”? Please. Then I think Michael told them that the only reason he was bringing up the trash incident was because it was at the top of a very long list of other offenses. They were, of course, incredulous, and were like, “What are you talking about?”, which then gave Michael the ability to start rattling off the items on our list: the pile of shoes in the hallway, the dog peeing everywhere, their theft of our shoveled parking spots. Then James did what he always does—he started talking loudly AT Michael. No more chance for a controlled conversation. I think he yelled for a while and then said to Michael, “Okay, it’s time to go,” at which point Michael was asked to leave.

Since then, things have been okay, by which I mean I have seen James zero times. I saw Andrea once in the hallway—I said a quick hello and kept on walking. The box of trash is still sitting on the floor in the foyer.

In other neighbor news, Hugh called me on Saturday afternoon to ask me if he could use our dryer because his was broken. I told him that it was fine and I appreciated the fact that he asked first (I believe I mentioned in a previous blog that Andrea used our dryer without asking, and I only found out because I caught her in the act!). So, Hugh is now back in my good graces, even though he remains a suspect in the “Who Smoked a Cigarette in My Car” mystery. But that’s old news at this point, and I’m pretty much over it.

Anyway.

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More Neighborly Antics

Upon returning home from work yesterday evening, Michael and I were greeted with this box of trash sitting atop the mail in the foyer of our house.

It’s creased and dented because Michael kicked it.

The note is undoubtedly from Andrea, the wife half of the married couple that lives across the hall from us. I have no idea where this sudden burst of passive aggression came from, but let me tell you, it is absolutely ridiculous. Michael and I are very responsible when it comes to throwing our trash away. In fact, more often than not, I will go outside to throw out a trash bag, only to find that most (if not all) of the trash cans (ours included) are already filled with big pieces of cardboard, which most definitely did not come from us. I don’t know where she gathered up that stuff, but it’s not like we ever randomly throw trash all over the ground—and I certainly resent the implication that we do. If anything, maybe the wind knocked over the can. Maybe an animal pulled stuff out. REGARDLESS, I cannot understand why she would go to the trouble to gather it all up and leave it inside the house, where I GUARANTEE you it will now remain indefinitely, because I sure as hell am not moving it, and something tells me that she won’t either.

Moreover, this note is even more out of line considering the laundry list of shit that the two of them have pulled over the last year. I’ll just list a few examples:

1. They don’t clean up after their dog after it pees in the hallway.
2. They let their dog run into our apartment if it happens to be there when we open the door (even though we have expressly informed them that this was not okay). Most times, it subsequently pees on our kitchen floor.
3. They leave all kinds of crap outside the door to their apartment, in a common hallway, including: shoes, empty pizza boxes, and any other crap that is being disposed of but hasn’t made it to the outside trash cans yet.
4. James piles his bikes and bike equipment on top of Michael’s beer equipment in the basement, when there is plenty of space for it elsewhere.
5. When their dryer broke, they used ours without asking us.
6. They abandoned their snow-covered parking spots and parked in the spots that Michael and I dug out (see previous blog entry).

They are a couple of phonies who pretend to be considerate but really only care about themselves, and from this point on I will not stand for it.

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I really hope that the other tenants of our house on Claremont Avenue have Googled me at one point or another and perhaps follow my blog without my knowledge. If you do, let me just say that WHOEVER GOT INTO MY CAR, LOOKED FOR THE CIGARETTE LIGHTER IN MY GLOVE COMPARTMENT, AND SMOKED ALL, OR AT LEAST PART, OF A CIGARETTE WHILE SITTING IN THE DRIVER’S SEAT, I HOPE YOU GO TO HELL.

Let’s backtrack for everyone else now. We keep our cars in a big driveway behind the house. Since I don’t have to park on the street and I had assumed my neighbors to at least have some sense of human decency (however miniscule), I often left my driver’s side door unlocked. I did it mostly for the ease of getting into my car in the morning, when I often have my hands full and would rather not have to dig my keys out of my purse.

This morning I was leaving the house to go get a haircut, and when I got into my car I was instantly greeted with the odor of cigarette smoke. Then I saw that my glove compartment was open. Since I don’t use the cigarette lighter, I keep the little button part in the glove box, which is what they must have figured out. Then I saw the leftover ashes on my seat. Feeling pretty dumbfounded, I called Michael and he said that he thought our neighbor Hugh had some people over last night, because he heard them outside. So, I’m going to assume it was either him or one of his stupid friends. I don’t think the other tenants smoke, so they’re more off my radar, although at this point I really wouldn’t put it past them either.

Of course there will be no confrontations on the matter, but if anything fishy ever happens again, BE ADVISED THAT YOU WILL BE DEALING WITH MORE THAN AN ANGRY BLOG POST.

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