Wish They Would Just Park That Thought

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

(I 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 bad 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?”

(Oh, no.)

Me: “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–” *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…”

Neighbor: “NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO PARK THERE! I HAVE AN AGREEMENT WITH THE LANDLORD!”

(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.)


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