You know the kind of people that complain when the neighbors don't mow their lawn? Or when the neighbors park their junky car on the street? I am that kind of person. When Brandon and I bought our home, we specifically purchased it in a neighborhood that is really well kept, where the common areas are maintained, has a homeowner's association, and where it looked like most of the residents were responsible members of society who take care of their yard and don't park cars on the lawn. Those kinds of things really chap my hide. I can let one bad yard on my street ruin my whole day. Truly. It must be part of my slightly OCD personality.
Well, ever since we moved in two and a half years ago, we have had fantastic neighbors. On the east side of us are a great family. I knew this the first day we moved in when Lani brought over a basket full of sandwiches with a little note that said, "Welcome to the Neighborhood!" Since then, Lani and Rob have not disappointed. They get our mail when we go out of town, shovel our walks occasionally, babysit Addyson every so often, invite us over for dinner and games and are just generally great folks to have next door.
On the west side, we have had an older couple (let's call them Bob and Sheila) with one son who was away in the military for much of the time since we have lived here. They, too, are sweet people who brought a gift when Addyson was born, drop off Christmas gifts and come purchase furniture from Brandon. All has been well in my little corner of the street. Until recently.
When we came back from Christmas in Utah, we noticed that there were many, many cars parked in front of Bob and Sheila's house. Their nineteen year old son (we'll call him Jason) was having a party of sorts, we figured. Whatever.
We began to notice over the next few days that these cars never left. There were about 6 of them, all old, all junky, and there all the time. We began to wonder where in the world were Bob and Sheila? Perhaps they went out of town for the holidays, we mused. They'll be back and put Jason in line.
The next night, we were awakened by loud screaming and laughter at about 3:00 in the morning. I looked out my back window (where I could see into their backyard) and saw about 20 college age kids... drinking, smoking, and making a lot of noise. The noise finally died down at about 5:00 am, after lots of loud car doors slamming and racing down the street (yes, after drinking what I saw was many, many cans of beer).
Why can't he be my neighbor?
The next day, I composed a strongly worded letter to my HOA complaining about this noise. The noise continued every night, loud enough to wake me up, but not really loud enough to call the police over. Finally, we saw Bob out in the yard one day. He informed us that him and Sheila had moved out over Christmas and were now living in their other home across town. And Jason? He had moved into his parent's home and was now living there permanently (with about 5 of his friends.) "We hope he won't be a bother," Bob said.
Needless to say, I was less than thrilled. Actually, I was practically sick about it. I didn't want to live next door to a 24-7 frat party and feel threatened in my own home. I moaned and mumbled under my breath every time I saw those junky cars or heard them drive too fast up the street. A few nights later, I was again awakened at 3:00 in the morning by loud laughter and a bunch of drunk kids in the hot tub. I decided I had had enough. I called the police and they did come out and give them a warning. I told the police officer that a warning was okay this time, but next time I would choose to have her issue a citation (a $300 fine).
I was still fuming in the morning so I wrote another strongly worded letter to the HOA and then decided I was not going to be a victim to this garbage. I wanted my quiet, family-friendly neighborhood back! I went around and talked to all of the surrounding neighbors and asked them if they were being bothered by this loud noise, traffic and all the cars. Many of them had been, and several had also written complaint letters. One neighbor across the street (let's call him Mark) is a police officer in a neighboring city and he was already preparing to have them cited for noise and disturbing the peace. I told him of all of my complaints and he got really fired up. He called Bob (the parent) and told him what was going on...that the neighbors were angry, that the police had come and that his son was behaving like an irresponsible screw up. He threatened to have him cited every night if need be if the noise didn't stop. Bob called him back ten minutes later and informed us that he had demanded that Jason MOVE OUT OF THE HOUSE IMMEDIATELY and that he was no longer allowed to live there. Success! I felt like shouting for joy. I had my peace back.
I watched smugly the next day as the son and all of his college cronies carried their stuff out to their cars and drove away, hopefully never to return again. The house has been empty and quiet ever since. I hope they figured out not to mess with me.
So, I'm curious. Do you think I overreacted? What would you have done?
