Joe informed me that once, quite a few months back, our next door neighbor remarked to him that we all had a “dysfunctional neighbor relationship”. Good thing I hadn’t heard that, or I might have went off on the guy.
Here’s the thing – I don’t talk to people I do not like. End of story. If you rub me the wrong way or wrong me, you might as well avoid me because I’m not going to waste my time pretending to be your friend, or even your acquaintance. Colleagues are excluded from this since I can’t just opt not to speak to someone I have to work with, although I will keep my interaction with them to a bare minimum. I don’t see the point in pretending to like someone you don’t. I have better things to do with my time. Therefore, I’m not friendly to someone unless it’s genuine.
So why don’t I like my neighbors? Oh may I count the ways? Let’s start with the fact that at the very writing of this entry they have three newspapers piling up in the driveway and a bent up wreath still on their door even though they’ve been home every day and walked past both the newspapers and the wreath (which should have been taken down no later than January 25th per our association’s rules). And let’s add to that they own a dog who barks at nothing when they let him out to pee at 10:30 every night when we’re already in bed trying to sleep. In addition, he barks furiously every time we come home. If I wanted a dog to greet me daily I’d get my own, thanks. Except my dog would be quiet and well behaved because I’d invest in obedience training!
In addition to the aforementioned grievances, instead of bringing the trash bins inside once they’re empty, the wife moves them from the end of the driveway to in front of the garage door where they sit from Thursday afternoon until Sunday or Monday even though the rules state they should be taken inside with 24 hours of trash collection. They also walk right past those advertisements people leave on the doors and leave them there for days, they slam their door constantly which is on a shared wall and shakes our whole place, and they wait until 9:30 pm to start watching a movie with the bass turned up which we can literally feel on our side of the wall (and which they know we can hear/feel since Joe has talked to them about it more than once before).
Gee, I wonder why I don’t say hi to them. Perhaps if they weren’t so inconsiderate of others and actually took some pride in how their unit looked I could find it in my heart to acknowledge their existence, but that’s not likely to happen. They are lucky I just act like they’re not there instead of giving them dirty looks because honestly I feel disgust when I look at them. Perhaps that makes me petty, but I can’t help it – I really do not like those people.
