Set to Burn

It should be legal to kill some people. Like neighbors from hell.

The first place Kevin and I lived after we got married was pretty good, except for the partiers upstairs. They dropped a guest’s keys over the balcony – the idea being to stop him from finding them in his drunken state in the bush below, I guess. They landed on our balcony, so instead of hearing them run around, yelling and partying, we got to hear people banging on our doors. Jerks.

For those of you who’ve read my latest short story Twitch’s apartment is my old abode. I deliberately picked the place in New Westminster because it was one of those weird places where the bizarre clashed with normality. I used to get headaches from second hand smoke from joints. Plus there were the neighbors across the street. They’d get into it and start throwing furniture off the balcony. Then the cops would come. We had one of only two suites built on the roof of this building, with gorgeous views, and huge patios. We could stand out there with our closet neighbors (friends Steve and Alison) and watch the fun. Better than Springer and free.

Of course, there was the old man across the street with diabetes who used to drink himself into the hospital, and then we could watch Steve respond to the call in his uniform, glaring at all the spectators getting in their way…

Yes, neighbors can be cheap entertainment at times. But they can also be a royal pain in the ass. Just ask Mr. Van Wormer.

“Joseph Sybille in First Colony, Texas, pounded his neighbor with a shovel in 1996 after years of arguing over every blade of grass and drop of water that crossed "enemy" lines. His neighbor, Charles Van Wormer, suffered a minor concussion.”*

The Japanese don’t mess around with this – a woman gets a one year sentence in jail for playing loud music.

Oh, if only.

And this complaint. “We are trying to put a fence up because of our rude neighbors who think they can drive their vehicles through our backyard. They let their boy ride his bike and play there anytime...”*

Now, let the rant really begin!

Last night I was filling up a water bottle and glanced out the window. Across the street I could see the flames shooting up over the hedges, which are about 5 feet high. When you’re 5’4, you can get a pretty good read on heights in that range, especially when you walk by them all the time.

I went into the living room and asked Kevin if he was going to do his civic duty. Problem is, technically, the chief is responsible for fire bylaw enforcement and he wasn’t home. All the officers were unreachable or too busy adjusting their asshats.

So, where did that leave us? Well, wondering what to do.

Technically, Kevin’s done the training but is one formal piece of paper shy of having the authority to take action. All we could do was watch and hope it didn’t get out of control. Not likely, since if had snowed, but still.

To me, that wasn’t even the point. It gets dry here in the summers – bone dry. We get lots of fires, and these are new neighbors that just moved here. Kevin and I have one of the most-treed properties in town. Fire is a legitimate concern, and this guy’s fire was not only above the metal grating, but also closer than the required 15 feet to both his garage and his hedges.

Where the hell is his brain? On vacation? Or is he a medical miracle, born without one?

It isn’t just that neighbor. Our other neighbor’s have one of those freestanding stoves sitting on their back deck, not 5 feet from the edge of their house!

Of course, those would be the same neighbors that walked all the way on to my property, took a coffee table and set it up on their back deck and used it all summer when they barbecued.

Um, a coffee table that was more than 20 feet on my property, against my garage, that they should have known they didn’t buy, so they should have known they didn’t own it. Duh!

Of course, my annoyance was balanced by amusement. After all, I put the coffee table outside after our puppy had sprayed diarrhea all over it, on the underside (because the dogs had knocked it over) that isn’t treated, and the shit had seeped into the wood.

And they wondered why they had such a bad problem with flies last summer.

Of course, they also let their kids play on our yard. Even adults visiting them have walked onto our property, a good thirty feet over to where our dogs are, and, yup, approached our dogs.

I had one of my best laughs one day when I was doing dishes.

See, the kitchen is in the corner of the house. From one window, you can see the front gate, and across the street to last night’s bonfire people.

And from the other window you can see across the other road. We have another gate there, and a driveway that’s four carwidths – a two-car garage and two extra parking spaces between our house and the neighbors with our coffee table.

This kid apparently thought he’d run across from gate to gate and cut the corner.

He rounded the corner of the house and ran back in a hurry when he discovered a full-grown husky just ready to jump up and greet him.

Chinook would never intentionally hurt anyone, but seriously, this is a dog that was so excited he jumped up and broke my nose.

And what’s wrong with these kids that they have no respect for property? When I was a child you understood that if you didn’t own it, it wasn’t yours.

All of these annoyances have culminated with one revelation today.

The other day, some kids knocked down part of our fence.

Why didn’t I notice, you ask? Well, our property is 130x100 feet, and we have lots of trees. Okay, so I didn’t notice. We also have only one window – our bedroom window – that faces that side of the property. And I do tend to keep those curtains closed.

But our neighbors in the other direction, across the lane, saw it. And they didn’t do anything, except tell Kevin a few days later.

Who then waited a few days to tell me, making him officially the knucklehead of the week.

And I have decided to lurk amongst the trees with our rottweiler cross and a camera, just waiting for those little punks to come back.

The lack of respect some people have for other people’s property, even the local laws, is unbelievable.

Come on. Indulge me with your horror stories. Make me feel petty for whining about this. I mean, it isn’t really that bad. I can’t complain much about our neighbors. Okay, the theft is pretty fucking amazing.

But then, they only took a shitty coffee table.

* quote source