It used to be a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
Fifteen years ago, my wife made her dream to own a house. It’s an old house and we put a lot of sweat equity into remodeling the old plaster and wiring. I also dug a water garden and installed pumps and waterfalls. In other words, the place looks nice. Then, the renters started moving in. Some lasted a year or two, some only 6 months. Most all of them were violent to their spouses or children, but left us alone. We were the neutral party, despite the fact that we were usually the one to call the police when the violence would start.
My wife hears screaming tonight, looks out the front door and here is our most recent transplant wielding a large kitchen knife and trying to stab someone in an SUV. So, my wife takes the initiative this time, and calls the police. After all, I have 2 Grandchildren and they nether have to hear MF this or MF that, nor see a knife waving around.
So, now we are the Old Racist MF’s in the neighborhood, according to a rather loud exclamation for our benefit.
We don’t live in the city. We don’t have this kind of nonsense where we were raised or have lived.
Tell me about your experiences with neighbors and how you handled it.