Kindness Comes In All Shapes And Apartment Sizes

, , , , , , , , , | Hopeless | March 12, 2018

On the last weekend before school started in 2017, my step-dad at the time kicked us out of the house, completely out of the blue. Even though it was illegal, he gave us only 24 hours to get our stuff.

So many people through that event have helped restore my faith in humanity.

First, about half an hour after it happened, I was boxing stuff up while making various phone calls to friends and family. All said that they were currently busy but would drop whatever they were doing to come help. My best friend, who I’ve known since I was five, offered to take the three-hour drive from Washington to come and help.

The first couple nights, our grandparents offered to let us stay with them, and even though it was a small two-bedroom house we all fit snugly. We stayed with them for about a month into the school year until we got an apartment that accepted dogs.

When we were moving into the apartment, which was on the third floor, it was only five of us with the fifth being my 64-year-old grandpa. Right as we pulled up, we met one of our neighbors, and she said that she had a cart that we could use to get stuff to the stairs, which was super helpful, but then she offered to help us it get up the stairs as well! This kind lady has since interacted with us and is one of our nicest neighbors, but before she knew why we were moving or how much it could’ve meant to us, she went above and beyond the neighborly thing to do.

Thank you to everyone who helped us during a difficult time.

Acting Neighborly Ain’t Worth Spit

, , , , , , , | Friendly | January 26, 2018

(I am a remote employee, so I work from home during the day. One day, while on a Skype call with my boss and some clients, I hear a knock at the door. I ignore it because this is an important meeting and I’m not expecting anyone or any deliveries, but they keep knocking. Then, eventually, I hear some cheery old woman’s voice.)


(She is also WHISTLING very loudly and shrilly. Annoyed and apologizing profusely to my boss and clients, I run to the door. It’s a little, prim, old woman who looks like someone’s stereotypical grandma.)

Me: “Yes, hello?”

Woman: *beaming* “Hello, dear! I knew I’d get you, eventually. I always do!” *wags her finger at me in what she probably thinks is a playful fashion* “My name is [Woman]. I live over on [Next Street], and I wanted to talk to you about this event before the next community meeting.”

(At this point, still speaking, she begins stepping forward and pushing past me as if she’s going to come in, uninvited. I shift my body to block her in the doorway, and she gives me a startled, annoyed look. She’s holding an armful of printed papers.)

Me: “Now is not a good time. I’m working. I’ll be happy to take whatever documentation you have to review.”

Woman: “Well! The city is proposing that [blah blah, something about a community garden that she doesn’t want because it would ‘attract people’].”

(I keep trying to tell her that I am too busy to listen or talk right now, and she just keeps raising her voice and talking faster. Finally, I get fed up.)

Me: “Okay, if you’re going to be rude, then, so am I, I guess. Have a good day. I have to get back to work.”

(I shut the door in her face. I hear her gasp comically loudly, and then, before I walk away, something that sounds suspiciously like spitting. I yank open the door and she jumps back, looking guilty and shocked that she has been caught. When I turn my head, sure enough, I see that this woman has SPAT a big, gross gob on my front door.)

Me: *yelling, furious* “WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!”

(She literally turned and ran like I had a gun in her face. I never saw her again. People are insane.)

How To Nerf Annoying Neighbors

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 25, 2017

(I work from home, so my apartment neighbors don’t see me much. My sister is coming back in town to celebrate Christmas. As I haven’t seen her in months, and we are all a bit weird, I get the idea to do the whole “Welcome home! Your brother, niece, and I are hiding with fully-loaded Nerf guns. You have 30 seconds to grab your two guns on the counter.” I go down to my storage unit to test out and select guns from the mass arsenal I’m holding from 22 years of collective Nerf fighting between the three of us. I am picking out which to bring over to our mother’s house and which would be best for my four-year-old to use to help us. I leave the door open because I don’t think it will take that long. There are apartments in the basement, as well as a laundry room for people who don’t have in-apartment washers. I’m 5’6”, female, and rail-thin, and l am pretty much in my pajamas.)

Me: *click, click, pff! click, click, pff!* “Oh, that’s so mine!”

Neighbor: *peeking in* “Uh…”

Me: *turning around with an uzi of a Nerf gun over my shoulder* “What? It’s the holidays!”

(The neighbor gets all wide-eyed and bolts.)

Me: “I don’t know if I should be upset that he thinks I’m a crazy person, or glad he will never come knocking if my TV is too loud.”

Wish They Would Just Park That Thought

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 21, 2017

(I have recently moved into a house in a quiet neighborhood. The house was previously occupied by a friend of mine who reports that the neighbor tends to be nosy and has strange ideas about the neighborhood. I don’t see said neighbor for my first few months living there. One evening, I’m putting the trash on the curb for pickup and am shocked to see a row of trashcans and recycling bins across our driveway and lawn, and the college students who have just moved in across the street are bringing yet more out, headed for my yard.)

Me: “Whoa, what’s going on?”

Student #1: “What? Who are you?”

Me: “I live here. Why are you bringing your trash into my driveway?”

Student #1: “Uh… Isn’t this where we put it for pickup?”

Me: “No, you put it in front of your house! Is all of this yours?”

Student #2: “Uh, no, I think that’s hers…” *pointing to my neighbor’s house* “She told us this is where it goes.”

(The neighbor hasn’t ever put her bins in my lawn, so this is surprising. Moreover, she has her own driveway and lawn.)

Student #1: “Yeah, she, um… said that this is basically her yard because she’s the only one on this street who doesn’t rent her house, and that all the bins should go here.”

Me: “What?! That’s ridiculous. I can’t have everyone’s bins in my yard. Plus, this is my driveway, not hers!”

Student #2: “I know, I mean… We’re sorry. She was really rude about it and we didn’t know what to do.”

(I feel badly for the kids because they seem a little naive, so I tell them no worries and simply move the neighbor’s bins onto her lawn. Nothing else happens for months, until one Sunday morning. I am sleeping in when I hear a loud series of knocks. Remembering that my friend was supposed to come by to pick up something, I rush to the door and open it to find a strange woman.)

Neighbor: “Hi, I live next door. Do you live here?”

Me: *internally thinking, “Oh, no.”* “How can I help you?”

Neighbor: “Do you own this place? Or do you rent?”

Me: *exhausted from a long week* “What do you want?”

Neighbor: “Well, there is a car parked right next to my house.”

(My fiancée parked her car in my driveway, which runs between our houses. It’s been there for a good 24 hours at this point.)

Me: “Yes?”

Neighbor: “The car needs to move. It’s making noise.”

Me: *wondering how a parked car that’s turned off is making noise* “Okay, well—”

Neighbor: “It’s in the driveway of your house. But no one is supposed to park there.”

Me: “Uh…”

Neighbor: “People don’t know, because of all the turnover–” *she shudders* “–but I’m the one who’s lived here longest, and I don’t have a lot of space around my house. So, I need that driveway, and because I’m the only one who owns their house, people usually let me use it.”

(She regularly parks in her actual driveway.)

Me: “Mm-hmm. Well…”


(I can’t help thinking it’s interesting that she asked if I own the house if she knows the landlord; who’s actually a landlady.)

Neighbor: “So, you’re going to move the car?”

Me: *fed up* “Not right now.”

Neighbor: “What is your name?”

Me: “I’m not giving you my name.”

Neighbor: “Fine! Call right now and get the car moved. I’ll wait right here. “

Me: “You’re going to be waiting a long time.”

Neighbor: “Ugh! I’m calling the police!” *storms off*

(I shut the door and went about my day. No police ever arrived, nor did I ever figure out how my fiancée’s car was making so much noise while sitting in the driveway.)

Gossip And Wine: The Fuel Of The Soccer Mom

, , , , , | Friendly | November 20, 2017

(My partner and I both are working night shifts as we are younger with no kids, and night shifts are well-paid. As a result of a good income, we are able to move to a nicer house in a neighbourhood populated mainly by families with 9-to-5 working husbands and “soccer moms.” The nice elderly couple next door tells us those moms do nothing else but gossip, and that they have already start to spread rumors about us. One day, we hear a group of those women talking about us in the adjacent garden. It is clear that they haven’t noticed us sitting in our garden.)

Neighbour: “They moved here two months ago and I’ve never seen them awake before one pm! Never seen them going to work! And they own two cars and a motorbike! How can they afford it?”


(Silence. The elderly couple later told us nobody dares to speak a single word about us any more.)

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