All's Not So Good In Da Hood

As if I needed to be reminded yet again... I have crazy neighbors.

It's Return of the Ghetto People out here in the country, if you can believe it. Yesterday around 2:30am my husband and I hear this guy rapping - yes, rapping... as in, you know... Snoop Dogg or whatever - something about "go ahead and call the cops, I'll f**king kill you." Husband looks out and there's Ghetto Neighbor's friend, who I'm starting to think lives here. A few minutes later, hubby looks out the window, and Ghetto Neighbor's friend is breaking into our car.

If I stop and think about it, it's almost laughable. He broke into the 1989 Buick. Nobody in their right mind would want to steal it. And the only thing he found inside was trash... oh, and my niece's blue Snuggie. HAVE AT IT! Still, it's not what he did or didn't take, it's the principle of the thing. Dude was breaking into MY PROPERTY. Hubby ran down the stairs and by the time he got to the bottom, Ghetto Neighbor's friend was already walking away from the car. Must have taken one look inside and thought, "Forget this!"

I debated what to do. I mean, really. He was out front rapping about killing anyone who called the cops, and not to stereotype, but... he looked the part. I decided to let it go last night, because he drove away with Ghetto Neighbor. I then decided this morning to confront them.

I took the sympathetic approach. Ghetto Neighbor is 20, his wife is 17, and they have a baby. I said I knew they were young, I knew they were struggling, and I didn't want them to get into trouble. But I also told them I knew "someone" had been in my car and to stay the hell out. The friend was sitting on the couch looking at me the whole time I gave my speech to Ghetto Neighbor, who was visibly stoned. Was I really sympathetic? It was about 10% sympathy and 90% please-don't-kill-me.

But then I started thinking. Hey, if I just let this go, these people OWN me. That's no way to live. So I called the cops, filed a report, and they told me they couldn't do much, but they'd have it on record. I called my landlord but didn't reach him. I guess that's on the agenda for tomorrow. You know the saying - 'evil wins when good men do nothing.' Or women, in my case. I wouldn't have cared about the rap session. I wouldn't have even cared about them being drunk and stoned. But in the end, I don't want to live with these people, and I shouldn't have to. Not only that, but there's a little girl living in this nightmare of a family. That changes everything.

I had just been talking to my friend downstairs about how quiet and peaceful things had been. JINX! It's a nice place to live, in a nice area. There's just total psychos living around us. When things get bad I say, "We have to move NOW!" but then I realize... you can't escape crazy. Know how I know? Because I've never lived around NORMAL. I've always had crazy neighbors, and I don't think location has much to do with it.

That doesn't mean I can't try to make it a little more sane, does it? Pin It