Friday, March 27, 2009

Neighbors From Hell

I know I haven't posting anything in a while, and I really haven't had the desire to. I've been trying to figure out what my problem is, and I think it's that something has been bothering me lately that I haven't mentioned and until I get it off my chest I won't be able to move on. So here goes.

When we bought our lot to build our house, the one concern that I had was that our lot is narrow. 125 feet wide. It's great that we have an acre and a half, and our "backyard" is over 500 feet deep, but the narrowness concerned me. On our left our property joins three other lots, but it's our side yard that abuts their back lots, so no big deal. It's what on the right of us. We had planned on purchasing the lot next to us, to insure a buffer zone if you will. I thought we had plenty of time to accomplish this, Vince was not so hopeful. And I cannot say enough, he was right. He was right, he was right, he was right. I couldn't image what people would want to move out to the boonies to buy a lot and build right on top of their neighbor. Really, what kind of people would do that? Well, the kind of people who we now have living next to us. Vince insisted the world was filled with stupid, stupid people, and we needed to get that lot secure as soon as we could. And again, he was right, he was right, he was right. We are now living too close for comfort to Clem and The Troll. Clem is short for "Creepy Little Man", and The Troll is for . . . well, she's a troll. I know this sounds harsh, but I assure you, these names are well deserved.

When we first saw them even looking at the lot, Vince went out and introduced himself, was friendly, let them know that we were trying to buy the lot (get the funding straightened out), and let them know in no uncertain terms that we didn't move out here to have neighbors so close to us. Clem told Vince on their first meeting, and on my first meeting with him, that their younger son had been shot and killed just a couple of months prior and they were anxious to move. The son was shot on his 23rd birthday. He had gotten married less than two weeks prior. (Married to a nineteen year-old, high school dropout, Hooter's girl. A great example of their white trashiness. Yes I just made up that word.) Tragic. Tragic, yet that seems to be Clems way of introducing himself, "Hi, I'm Clem and my son was shot back in July. Please feel sorry for me". Also, Clem is in a wheelchair. Paralyzed from the waist down. I later found out that he had been in an accident on the younger son's birthday ten years prior. Also tragic. Honestly, these people have been through a lot. They are sad, angry people. And while I would usually feel some sort of sympathy, they have been so rotten that I just can't seem to muster any for them. I don't think that their tragedy entitles them to spread the misery. I question if theirs is a case of bad things happening to good people, or a perfect example of what goes around comes around. Anyway, Clem told Vince he wanted to buy the lot and the one next to it, so he could put his house in the middle and have plenty of space. That didn't sound bad to me, yes we'd have neighbors, but they'd be over there. Fine. Turns out they were able to buy the lot before we were, problem was they only bought the lot next to us, not the other one too. Their older son worked for a crappy track house builder and was the contractor on their house. So when their son marked out where their house should be placed on the lot, both Vince and I, on separate occasions went out and asked if they were seriously putting their house there. It was as close to us as they could legally get away with. Clem's answer was that that was where their son was telling them they should put it, but that wasn't where they wanted to put it, and they were still working out the details. Then the concrete guys show up, and guess what. The pad was poured exactly where it was originally marked out. Right on top of us. Fifteen feet from the property line. Our lot is narrower and our house is wider than theirs, and our house is built farther back from the property line than theirs. These people are stupid. We all but begged them not to build so close. We brought to their attention that they would not only be lowering our property values, but theirs as well if they did this. They just don't care. It has all been downhill from there. We now have a white trash track house right on top of us. Every time I walk out of my garage, there it is. The house is ugly and poorly built. They threw it up in less than two months. Their heat pump runs all the time, proving just how poorly built it really it. I'm surprised it even meets the minimum square foot requirements, it's tiny. And all the sod and landscaping cannot mask the ugly cheapness of this house. What's that phrase about a pig and silk purse? Is that the right one? The Troll uses such foul language that when she is out and about I have to go around and close my children's bedroom windows for all the obscenities floating in from her mouth. The best I can do is just pretend they don't even exist. No friendly wave, no nod of the head, I don't even make eye contact. It's stressful.

We are now living next to two of the most inconsiderate, rude, foul mouthed, white trash couple you can imagine. So our dream house has now become our five-year plan house. Looks like we'll be moving on as soon as we can. Part of what really bothers me is that this one couple has ruined our new home and our new neighborhood for us. We have met the nicest, most friendly people here. We do things socially with our neighbors, backyard bar-be-cues, birthday parties, game nights, etc., and with the exception of Clem and The Troll, we could be really happy here for quite some time.

As it is I feel uncomfortable going into my own backyard. I don't like pretending I don't see them, when they are obviously there. They make noise just to let me know they're there. Clem sits out by his shop and stares into our backyard and at the back of our house constantly. When he drives by our house he slows down to a crawl, and I can see him craning his neck while he tries to look in our windows. He's really pathetic. The older son has since been laid off from the crappy track house builder, and I guess is now trying to go into custom home building for himself. I feel for any clients he may get. And the kicker is that he's used a photo of hisparent's house on the business card as an example of his work. That would be like me using a picture of canned ravioli on my catering business card.

Anyway, I think that's all I've got to say about this subject for now. There is much much more I could say, but that would only serve to work myself up, and I've been worked up about this for long enough now. But at least now, if I go off on a rampage about my neighbors from hell, you'll have a little background info and won't wonder what the heck I'm talking about.