I completely have the next door neighbor from hell.
I moved here, pregnant with child #2, 11 years ago. I live on a quiet street in a firmly middle class suburb. I love my little street because it connects nothing. It’s a little tiny side street off of another little side street.
My next door neighbor was a single mom with two teens, a boy and a girl. Not long after we moved in, a few of the neighbors introduced themselves. Near the end of these introductions, in hushed tones, I was often told to be weary of my next door neighbor. Ominous, right?
Soon after, the neighbor who must not be named came over on a Sunday and told me it was her son’s birthday. She was having a birthday party for him in the back yard and since it was his 16th birthday party, she expected it might go a little late. Would we be ok with that? Of course I said ok. What she didn’t mention was that her definition of a little late was 2 am. On a Sunday night/Monday morning. And the next day was NOT a holiday. Drunken 16 year old boys singing at the tops of their lungs, playing football, laughing like maniacal hyenas, shrieking.
That sucked. But not nearly as much as what happened next. Apparently, I agreed to being ok with this type of behavior from now on for all time. Because it’s been happening all year round (and I live in Cleveland), in all types of weather, up to 5 nights a week ever since.
I kept hoping that at some point, hosting Nattie Light parties in your mom’s backyard would get embarrassing. I mean, the dude is 26 years old. The same clueless, antisocial behavior that causes him to sit outside all night screaming is also responsible for him not being embarrassed. That embarrassment should have kicked in right around the time he was legally old enough to drink. So, 5 years ago. He is the boy who cannot be shamed.
On top of this, he now has 2 or more of his adult male buddies living in the house with his mom and his sister. And they all sit out front on any random afternoon, smoking a bong on their front porch. I feel like I live in the inner city.
Neighbors, can’t live with them, can’t drop a house on them.
I think it’s time to move.