Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Hooligan House

I am the nosiest neighbor you will ever have. I work from home full time, live in a small town, and have little else to do than army crawl on my living room floor spying on you out the window.

We live in a peaceful little town for the most part, white picket fences, Victorian style houses, a police squad of about 3 cars. But there is ONE house across the street from us that has disturbed the peace since I moved in. The Hooligan House.

We would constantly hear the big mean bullying teenagers screaming obscenities and pushing around the younger kids as they walked past our house on their way to school. The mom was never home, and the oldest teenage daughter sat most nights on the porch, smoking and rocking her newborn child... in a car seat.

I can't tell you how many times we heard the mom standing on the porch, screaming at the oldest girl for hanging out with the kid across the street and smoking pot. I'm talking white-trash-episode-of-COPS screaming.

Then, there was the time that the girl's underage boyfriend was arrested in front of the house for trying to drive his motorcycle while intoxicated. Naturally, K and I decided this would be the perfect time to go out front on the porch and have a cigarette. Or five. With the porch lights off so we could see better. Come on, this isn't amateur hour.

Just before winter hit, it appeared they abandoned the house. We only figured this out this after we went a few weeks without hearing screaming or cursing, and the cops stopped rolling down our street nightly. They left ALL kinds of crap on their porch. The baby car seat, corn stalks, broken lawn chairs, a pair of galoshes, a broken mailbox, and what was left of a busted up basketball hoop. It was truly a sight to behold, but we breathed a sigh of relief as we accepted that they were finally gone. A few weeks later, the two cars in the driveway were towed, and the things were cleared off of the porch.

Then, driving by one day, (at a slow crawl, so I could survey the scene) I noticed that the front door had been smashed in. Broken glass, it looked like the whole door was bent--maybe kicked in. A break-in? But who would dare trespass on the Hooligan House? And what could they POSSIBLY hope to steal? Beheaded baby dolls? Crack pipes?

A month ago, to my anger and dismay, we started noticing their black SUV in the driveway again. Then came the familiar screams, and the cops rolling down our street daily. And yesterday, I heard the boyfriend screaming at someone on the phone while literally standing in our driveway. I stood frowning, like an ornery old lady, holding my cat and watching him through the window with a scowl.

It looks like the hooligans are back. I can't wait to see what they have in store for us this time around, and what kind of crap they will adorn their porch with. Bah humbug.


  1. Ooof! Neighbours are a tough cookie. They can be an absolute nightmare. I feel your pain!

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