Meet the Neighbors

Several years ago, my husband interviewed for a job that required an in-depth background investigation. This included interviews with our neighbors by very official people with badges. Our neighbors never really told us what was asked or what was said. It must have been OK since he got the job. I’ve been thinking lately that it would have been nice to interview the neighbors when we bought this house 15 years ago. I think perhaps what we now know would have influenced our purchase. If I’d had a crystal ball, there is no way I’d have bought this place.

I wonder how I'd conduct a preliminary neighbor survey. “Say, Mr. Farmer, what are your intentions for that really big lot you grow pumpkins in?” “Do you plan to continue growing pumpkins? No? You plan to sell it to a big dialysis group?” Wow. “Oh, and hey, Mr. Farmer? Why do you have such a big snow blower?” Suffice it to say, I may have thought twice about buying this place. It’s bad enough we were subjected to half rotted pumpkins tossed into our yard as gifts, but we must endure the early morning snow blowing of the yard all winter long too. Besides my neighbor and my brother, do others snowblow their lawns too? Not drives, lawns. The slamming car doors at the dialysis center are the icing on the cake. So's the occasional ambulance speeding very sick patients out of center to the hospital.

We had a lovely old lady (not) who let her son Wife Beater and his downtrodden wife live with her. They lived one house over and across the street, next to my lovely neighbor Jo. A day didn’t pass when one did not hear the words, “f**king b*tch! I’m gonna kill you.” Sounds of hands connecting with flesh and screaming were common. Routinely, their fights spilled outdoors so all the world could witness this despicable exhibition of abuse. Not one to suffer fools lightly, Rudee had the police on speed dial. Once or twice, I think I heard Wife Beater call me names but he never crossed the street. I wish he had, I’d have kicked that bastard’s ass. Well, me and my big ass dog would have. It was a relief when that family moved out, unfortunately, it was short lived.

Soon after they left, an eastern European family moved in and the house acquired a third world like look about it. These people were bizarre. They painted the driveway an odd color and put an oversized gigantic door on the front of the small ranch style house. I couldn’t figure that one out since their doors were open to the elements day and night. They just left them wide open with no screens. Why bother buying one when they had a perfectly good one they didn't use anyways? They had a LOT of birds they kept in cages on the front porch. I often wondered if the birds were what was for dinner. They also had their own share of fights in that house. Once, one of their son’s girlfriends came down the street in her car driving about 40 mph and rear ended the son’s car. She was flying. She was also upset about something since she totaled his car and it wasn’t an accident. When this same son was shot and killed in a nearby community, in drug deal gone bad, they abruptly picked up stakes and moved to Florida. They told another neighbor that the house brought bad luck. Their other son, such a good boy, was on the state’s sex offender list. I hope he went with them. We don’t live in a bad area, really, that particular house is cursed and it would seem, so are we.

So the eastern Europeans moved out and a single mother with 3 kids moved in. For the sake of argument, lets just call her Skank. She earned that name in one week because she routinely dressed like a hoe to do housework. Boobies would be flopping out of her skimpy little bikini-that’s not accurate, her silicone boobs didn’t really flop. It’s more like they popped out of the bikini. She also 'worked' the night shift if you get my meaning. She had a nice figure, but her face? Oy. She had a face even a mother wouldn't kiss and a filthy mouth to match. It wasn't that she was hideous, she just looked so damned mean. I think she dressed the way that she did to draw attention away from that scary face. On the other hand, she could have dressed that way simply because she was nuts. I tried being friendly with Skank because I know what it's like to be a single mom. She wasn't very friendly. Now, I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m picky, because I’m not. I don’t hate everyone that lives in that house, but I hated this one the most. H.A.T.E.D. What in the world could make me hate Skank more than Wife Beater? She hadn’t lived there a month when she took off for the weekend. She was gone 3, maybe 4 days. The bitch left her dog locked in the garage in 90 degree weather with no food and water. The poor dog howled, barked and cried until my husband and neighbor called the police to break down the door and rescue him. Unfortunately, the police gave her a second chance and gave the dog back to the nutcase only to have her do it again. Finally, the police took the dog away from her. That’s why I hated her. The treatment of the dog was a good reflection of how she treated her children-one of whom was disabled and you should all know how I feel about that. Mistreating or neglecting an animal burns my arse.  Neglecting a helpless and disabled child is beyond disturbing.  She neglected that boy of hers-more than she neglected the dog.  Sometimes, she'd just forget to be at home when the bus would come by to drop him off.  How do you forget your child?  Yes, I HATED her.

The straw that broke the camel’s back were the unsupervised parties Skank would let her 14 year old son throw. Oh, she was home alright, dressed like a hoe to entertain her son’s friends and party with them. After one particular party that the police had to break up, Skank’s son and friends egged my son’s used (but brand new to him) car and destroyed the finish. It was his high school graduation gift. We weren’t the ones who’d called the police, my long suffering neighbor who lived next to the Skank did. Jo’d had enough. It seems the Skank didn’t have shades or curtains on the side of the house and routinely paraded around the house nude-in front of her kids. Jo was horrified by this and had to keep her own shades down day and night. Jo is also Polish and scrubs the outside of her house and sidewalk every single day. That seems pretty common in some of our Polish neighborhoods. I think you call that pride of ownership. Skank had none of that. Her property was a mess and her in ground pool flooded Jo's pristine back yard at least once a week. After the egging, we'd had enough of Skank's son's destruction. We pressed charges which cost her $1,000 in fines and almost cost Skank her parental rights-she was well known to child protective services.  Since this wasn't her first dance with authorities, she was truly at risk.  I don't know that she cared.  Those CPS folks don't look too kindly on this type of parenting. For God's sake, she couldn't even care for a dog-let alone those kids. Hopefully, the kids will learn better but with such bad parenting, I sort of doubt it.

Ultimately, Skank and crew moved. The house had been foreclosed and the bank now owned it. A retired Detroit cop eventually bought the house and has paid a small fortune to repair and renovate the place. What Skank, her son and his friends had done to this rental home were criminal. There were swastikas and racial slurs written all over walls and cupboards in this home. Once they’d moved, it was like the whole neighborhood finally exhaled. The new couple that bought the house seem wonderful and work like Jo does on her house. Once again, it's nice to see Jo's shades up during the day and nobody does housework in a bikini.  I hope the new owners had an exorcism or at the least, a blessing done in this house.

If you thought I was done, you’d be wrong. You’ve not yet been properly introduced to my next door neighbors on either side, Skullduggery and Quickhide. More on them later-writing about the Skank has completely tired me out.

Photo Google Images