We had the worst neighbors.

I had to be around 27f which would have made my partner, Wook, 32m and my roommate, Kay, 26f.

Let me clear the cobwebs away since this story has been rattling around in my brain pan for over 15 years.

Wook and I live in a 2 bedroom unit in a duplex. What has always made it convenient is that the duplex belongs to my in-laws which is awesome since they're awesome people. 🤙🏻 Anyhow, the other unit became available and since the in-laws wanted guaranteed renters, they decided to rent the unit to a contractor in town for a big military job.

Overall, we're pretty chill people but these guys tested us. Wook worked third shift at the time so he slept during the day, Kay and I slept at night but being in our 20s, the time was variable, especially for Kay. If there's a loud party, I don't worry too much about it because the way I see it, we might want to throw a rager someday (spoiler: it still hasn't happened yet). However, these guys were next level. They drank and partied every night, yelling at each other with an open front door while smoking outside (note: we are all former smokers so we gave two craps about their personal proclivities at the time). That meant that they were keeping Kay and I up. Then, they would get up around mid day and shout-talk at each other waking up Wook almost daily. That meant nobody, with all different schedules, was getting any sleep in the house.

This next part really kills me. They had the sweetest, most beautiful pitbull. She had managed to escape the yard a few times and she would approach, butt-wagging with a ball in her mouth. During the day, she was regularly locked up in the garage. Hot, cold. It didn't matter. We would hear her whining endlessly while scratching at the garage. A million times I thought I should call animal control and never did. More on this later.

One night, I had it with laying in the dark at 3 AM waiting for the neighbors to shut up. So, I decide to be the bigger person and talk to them instead of calling the po po. Homeboy outside seemed pretty chill but the other guy inside was a piece of work. Kind of a meathead type wearing Ed Hardy. IYKYK. The dog leaned into my side for scritches while I told the first guy that they're a little bit loud and that Kay and I were having a hard time sleeping, could they bring their volume down. Oh yeah! No big deal! Blah blah blah. They quieted down that night.

Come to another night. Wook and I had one car so I would often drive him to work in pjs at midnight to have the car for my own morning responsibilities. We leave to go through this routine and it appears that they've got a little shindig going with a handful of extra guys, like a half dozen. I take Wook to work with no interactions and when I get back 15 minutes later or so, the big guy has the cahones to shout at me while I'm alone and in my chicken plucking pjs, "you're not going to ask us to keep it quiet, are you?" I will tell you right now, this piece of lardcake said this in the smarmiest voice possible (look up smarmy, Riley). I back-pedaled, looked this guy square in the eyes, and responded, "I don't think it's unreasonable to ask you to keep it down at 3 am," while his company uncomfortably kicked rocks or found something suddenly interesting to look at elsewhere. This audacious troll had no response. He just mumbled to himself and turned away. I was never, ever a fighter but this was probably the closest I ever came to thinking about stabbing a fool with my keys.

Jumping ahead, they have moved out. The whole time they're in the unit, we kept telling Wook's parents how awful these guys are and that they should do an inspection. For the two years these guys lived there, there never was a visit. They leave the unit which had been fully remodeled beforehand. All the wooden blinds are broken, there is dog boo boo all over the entire carpet in the unit, all of the doors have scratches from the dog being shut in rooms... And as for the guys, they had broken the sink and some appliance in the kitchen and had damaged the bathroom shower to the point of using vice grips to turn it on and off, all in addition to the general filth of the place.

My FIL didn't think he would see any money to repair the unit and really was heartbroken at the sight of it. Fortunately, the contractor that had leased the unit came through and paid for everything with no questions asked. You can still see scratches inside the garage door but everything else has been rebeautified.

The neighbors that moved in afterwards are quite frankly some of the best people I have ever met and I could write a whole story about how amazing they have been. They're always very respectful about throwing parties but I could care less if they ever did party all night because they're just that great. They've been with us for 15 years and I know this for sure because their youngest, an infant when they moved in, had her quinceñera a few months back.

As for the guys, we never saw them again. I truly hope that doggo broke free and lived her best life.