If you haven't read part one yet, either scroll down, or click here.
Neighbors family 2: The Mint-Green House
(Otherwise known as Where's Joe?: A Tale of Screaming Babies, Burning Plastic, and Other Foul Mouthed Charades.)
When I was young, and older couple lived next door to us. Their names were Bill and Elsie.
Bill and Elsie were the sweetest people in the world. I don't know how they ended up spawning such filth and destruction, but they did.
Around the time I was 12, Bill got sick, and had to be moved into a nursing home in Arizona for some reason, and Elsie went with him. They gave/sold (not sure which) their house to their son, who we'll call Mike. I can't remember if that was his actual name or not, but for now, it will be.
Mike had 3 kids, Scott, Matt, and a daughter who we'll call Sarah, because I can't remember her name either.
They were all closer to my sister's age, so they all played with her whenever they were visiting their grandparents. Sarah was the youngest, and sometimes I would play with her and my sister.
Except one day, they told me I couldn't play with them.
I was roughly 4 at this time.
I was under the impression that I couldn't play with them because Shannon, my sister, didn't want me to.
I held this grudge against my sister for years, until I was older and she told me that it was Sarah who didn't want to play with me, not Shannon. Sarah thought I was annoying and lame, apparently.
Bitch.
Anyway, so I'm like 12, Bill and Elsie have sold their house to Mike, and all of a sudden, we're living next to an episode of cops almost 24/7.
At first it started off with just a lot of drinking and swearing. They were fairly private people to begin with, it was mostly just Scott and Matt yelling at each other and their friends, and while we could hear it, it was nothing too bad.
This was around the time of the Joe incident.
It wasn't really an incident, and it probably won't be funny at all when you read this, but just bear with me.
One day, my sister and I are home alone...actually, maybe my mom was home. Actually maybe both of my parents were home.
I have a terrible memory.
So we're all home, and all of a sudden, we hear someone calling something out. It was summer, and we had all the windows open, so we listened out the window to see what was happening.
This is what was happening:
"Jooeee! Joooooeeeeeee! Where are you, Joooeeeee!"
"Fuck man, where's joe?"
"I don't know, man, I can't find him. JOEEEEEEE!"
"JOOOOOOEEEEEEE"
"JOOOOEEEEE! C'mon man! JOOOOOOEEEEEEE!"
They called Joe's name about 60 times.
I'm not exaggerating.
I don't even need to exaggerate with this part. They literally called this guy's name about 60 times.
The best part? They were calling his name over and over while just walking up and down their driveway.
Seriously?
Like Joe was just going to pop out of the bushes and say "Here I am! I won Sardines, no one could find me!"
[Sardines is reverse hide and go seek, if you weren't already aware. everyone looks for 1 person, and when they find that person they hide with them, until only one person is left.]
There were two 25-30 year olds walking up and down their driveway calling for Joe, because they were too lazy (and probably too drunk and/or stoned off their asses) to go actually look for this guy.
And no, I have no idea if they ever found him. They probably forgot what they were doing, went to go drop more acid, and then found his body in the cellar next to the meth-lab.
Then, Scott and Matt decided that they were going to be really, really smart and, instead of recycling plastic bottles like you're supposed to, they built a bonfire and threw all of the plastic bottles in there.
If you aren't already aware, burning plastic is toxic. Also, it smells like shit. Not just "ew, that's mildly gross, maybe I'll move a little further away from the source of that smell." More like "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY, I'M GETTING A GAS MASK AND A HAZ-MAT SUIT AND I'M COMING BACK WITH A CONTAINMENT CHAMBER TO BOX THAT SHIT UP. THAT SMELLS LIKE DEATH'S GRANDFATHER SHITTING HIMSELF AFTER EATING AN ENTIRE CRAVE CASE FROM WHITE CASTLE MIXED WITH CURRY AND RANCID MILK AND THEN GETTING SPRAYED BY A SKUNK."
Okay, maybe not that drastic.
But close.
Either way, it smelled absolutely TERRIBLE.
And the smell was all over our backyard, it got into our house, no matter where you went, you smelled it.
There was also the time that the Sox won the world series.
For those of you who don't live in the Chicago area, the whole White Sox vs. Cubs thing is pretty intense.
My family and I are die-hard Sox fans. So, obviously, when the White Sox got into the World Series several years ago, we were really fucking excited.
Every Halloween we put lights up on our three evergreen trees out in front, and this year, instead of just covering the trees, we used the lights to spell out S-O-X on the trees, and we would flash them every time the Sox got a run, and especially when they won the game.
Scott and Matt were Cubs fans. Which is fine, I accept their right to choose, but they were dumb cubs fans.
One night, we hear rustling outside, and we go outside and find Scott and Matt standing by the tree closest to their house (the trees are in a row), and the lights are all messed up on that tree.
They quickly tried to explain what had "happened"
"Well, uh, we heard something out here, so, uh, we came out to see what happened and, uh, some kids were fu...i mean messin' with yer lights, so we tried to chase 'em off. Sorry 'bout yer lights."
and then they walked back inside.
Seriously?
Seriously.
Like I said. Dumb. As if their little story covered up the fact that they were trying to take down our lights. Real smart, guys.
Now, these three incidents alone aren't what qualify these people as ridiculous neighbors.
No, what makes them ridiculous is the record number of times they managed to have the cops called on them.
It started out as maybe once every few weeks, and then it gradually grew, until it was once every other week, once every week, and finally they got the cops called on them twice in one week.
Why?
Oh, various reasons.
There were screaming babies, screaming people, accusations of drugs, public drunkeness, smashing bottles, fights, something about a divorce and a restraining order or something to that effect.
When I say screaming babies, I don't just mean a kid was crying for a few seconds and the parents couldn't figure out what it wanted.
I mean this baby was SCREAMING. It wouldn't stop. It didn't even sound like anyone was trying to make it stop.
The only thing anyone said about it was "Oh look, now the kid's crying. Are you happy?" which probably inspired some more yelling and cursing and fighting.
Oh, and they started smashing bottles and fighting right outside of my sister's window, which was SUPER fun. This was at 3 in the morning, mind you, and she was trying to sleep, but was terrified that someone would come crashing through her window at any second and then start threatening her with bottle shards.
I think we only called the cops on them once or twice. If even that.
It was everyone else living around us who called the cops time and time again.
We generally tried to ignore it, being the passive people that we are. We didn't want to get ourselves involved in other people's business.
To be honest, I don't recall exactly what led to these people moving out. I think they got kicked out, or maybe they sold it to a builder/the people who then bought the property.
My parents talked to the guys who went through it before ripping it down, and my Dad actually walked through. He said that the place was completely gutted and destroyed before the wreckers even got there. The interior had been completely demolished. And it smelled like double-ass cheese in there. I don't even know what it is, but it sounds like it would smell terrible.
Anyway, then this kid who I've known since 3rd grade moved in next door to me, and his family built a giant mansion next to our little house, which is kind of lame, but you know what, I'd rather have that instead of screaming babies at 3 AM, to be quite honest.
And so ends the second part to my Crazy Neighbors saga.
Tune in next time for Part 3: The White House, or How to Run a Meth-Lab While Still Having a Thousand Children.
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