Neighbors can be a wonderful thing—if you’re lucky. But many also have bad experiences. Sometimes you come across neighbors that really make you shake your head. If anyone wants, they can share their story here. Let’s see who takes the crown. Here’s my rather short story:
My company is located right in the middle of a residential area—it’s a retail shop. On Monday mornings, the garbage collectors come by. And I mean really early—often before 7 a.m. This is a problem for me. I can’t easily put the bin out on the sidewalk on Friday because it would sit there all weekend smelling bad on the promenade. But on Mondays, I usually get to work around 8 a.m.—by then they have already come through. So, I talked to them about how to solve this. The solution was: please place the bins on the sidewalk across the street because they only come to that side around 9 a.m. A perfect solution—so that’s what I did!
Recently, my neighbor from across the street came to my door and told me that I’m not allowed to put my bin out there for collection—it belongs on the other side of the street. (We’re talking about about 2 hours where the bin waits for pickup.) I explained the situation to him—but no, he insisted the bin belongs on the other side. I asked him what his specific problem was. “The bin has to be on the other side.”
I was quite puzzled by this repetitive statement. He then said he would complain—where, he did not say. After trying for the umpteenth time to get him to have a reasonable conversation, I had to give up due to lack of time, leaving him with the words, “That’s nonsense—do whatever you want!” Very unprofessional, I know.
My company is located right in the middle of a residential area—it’s a retail shop. On Monday mornings, the garbage collectors come by. And I mean really early—often before 7 a.m. This is a problem for me. I can’t easily put the bin out on the sidewalk on Friday because it would sit there all weekend smelling bad on the promenade. But on Mondays, I usually get to work around 8 a.m.—by then they have already come through. So, I talked to them about how to solve this. The solution was: please place the bins on the sidewalk across the street because they only come to that side around 9 a.m. A perfect solution—so that’s what I did!
Recently, my neighbor from across the street came to my door and told me that I’m not allowed to put my bin out there for collection—it belongs on the other side of the street. (We’re talking about about 2 hours where the bin waits for pickup.) I explained the situation to him—but no, he insisted the bin belongs on the other side. I asked him what his specific problem was. “The bin has to be on the other side.”
I was quite puzzled by this repetitive statement. He then said he would complain—where, he did not say. After trying for the umpteenth time to get him to have a reasonable conversation, I had to give up due to lack of time, leaving him with the words, “That’s nonsense—do whatever you want!” Very unprofessional, I know.
C
chand198620 Oct 2017 10:25Kaho, there is nothing you can do with people like that. Whether someone will address their complaint remains to be seen. Is there a neighbor 10m (33 feet) away on the other side who has no problem with it?
Of course, you only find that out if you ask beforehand, and you have to hold yourself accountable for that: you should have spoken to the first neighbor before moving the bin for the first time. People quickly become stubborn when facts are simply imposed on them without any consultation.
Of course, you only find that out if you ask beforehand, and you have to hold yourself accountable for that: you should have spoken to the first neighbor before moving the bin for the first time. People quickly become stubborn when facts are simply imposed on them without any consultation.
C
chand198620 Oct 2017 10:57When I still lived with my parents (about 10 to 11 years ago): My father was the contact person for the property management of the homeowners' association, which was formed by the row houses there. One resident was quite difficult. A grumpy guy who often showed up because there was always some issue. Water, heating, roof—he exclusively had problems that nobody else experienced.
Once, he showed up on a Sunday at 6:45 a.m. (!) because he was cold. Actually, the heating had failed overnight, which nobody noticed except Klaus, who kept all rooms in his place at a comfortable 24°C (75°F).
My father, patient as ever, kindly showed him the door and said he would take care of it once he had gotten some sleep.
A little later, while my parents were on vacation and the heating was still (or again?) broken, Klaus woke me up at a similar time and demanded sharply that something be done immediately because he was cold again.
I am not blessed with my father’s calm demeanor and responded in the same tone, saying it was outrageous to wake me at that hour, that I was not the person covering for my parents, and that he should just dress warmer.
Wow, that really got to Klaus. He straightened up, a vein started throbbing on his head, and his energy surged. He launched into a long tirade about what kind of brat I was, how disrespectful, blah blah—so loud that it woke the other neighbors and drew them to their windows.
That’s when I switched to a friendly tone, smiled, and started a nice response with “You know, Klaus…” (he had addressed me as “you brat,” so I took that as permission to use “you”). But I couldn’t finish before he launched into another angry speech about respect, formal address, and so on. The audience was captivated; Klaus’s voice was powerful. I was torn between annoyed and amused.
Well, in the end, after he ran short of breath, I interrupted and said that I was going to close the door now and he could leave. I did just that, and Klaus left.
After that, he apparently decided to ignore me and stopped greeting me when we met, even though respectful neighborly behavior would normally require it. Well, I at least didn’t want to be the disrespectful brat he made me out to be, so I greeted him every time in a loud, clear voice: “Good day, Klaus”—and if he walked on without responding, I added, “That’s quite disrespectful, not to greet.”
The neighbors noticed this. Once, I was spoken to about it by the neighbor who lived right next to Klaus and who also came and went at his place often. I said that people should probably have some understanding because the 80-year-olds there had difficult life stories and so on. I hope she passed on my understanding to him. Klaus was 63 at the time.
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Yes, I can be a pain when people really push me in a certain way. And no, you don’t have to be understanding with everyone. I had none for Klaus.
The problem ended when I moved out of my parents’ house. Klaus never dared to bother my parents in the morning again. Sometimes the heavy-handed approach really does work.
Once, he showed up on a Sunday at 6:45 a.m. (!) because he was cold. Actually, the heating had failed overnight, which nobody noticed except Klaus, who kept all rooms in his place at a comfortable 24°C (75°F).
My father, patient as ever, kindly showed him the door and said he would take care of it once he had gotten some sleep.
A little later, while my parents were on vacation and the heating was still (or again?) broken, Klaus woke me up at a similar time and demanded sharply that something be done immediately because he was cold again.
I am not blessed with my father’s calm demeanor and responded in the same tone, saying it was outrageous to wake me at that hour, that I was not the person covering for my parents, and that he should just dress warmer.
Wow, that really got to Klaus. He straightened up, a vein started throbbing on his head, and his energy surged. He launched into a long tirade about what kind of brat I was, how disrespectful, blah blah—so loud that it woke the other neighbors and drew them to their windows.
That’s when I switched to a friendly tone, smiled, and started a nice response with “You know, Klaus…” (he had addressed me as “you brat,” so I took that as permission to use “you”). But I couldn’t finish before he launched into another angry speech about respect, formal address, and so on. The audience was captivated; Klaus’s voice was powerful. I was torn between annoyed and amused.
Well, in the end, after he ran short of breath, I interrupted and said that I was going to close the door now and he could leave. I did just that, and Klaus left.
After that, he apparently decided to ignore me and stopped greeting me when we met, even though respectful neighborly behavior would normally require it. Well, I at least didn’t want to be the disrespectful brat he made me out to be, so I greeted him every time in a loud, clear voice: “Good day, Klaus”—and if he walked on without responding, I added, “That’s quite disrespectful, not to greet.”
The neighbors noticed this. Once, I was spoken to about it by the neighbor who lived right next to Klaus and who also came and went at his place often. I said that people should probably have some understanding because the 80-year-olds there had difficult life stories and so on. I hope she passed on my understanding to him. Klaus was 63 at the time.
-----
Yes, I can be a pain when people really push me in a certain way. And no, you don’t have to be understanding with everyone. I had none for Klaus.
The problem ended when I moved out of my parents’ house. Klaus never dared to bother my parents in the morning again. Sometimes the heavy-handed approach really does work.
B
Bau-Schmidt20 Oct 2017 12:07Grinning... Your counterpart was probably once a "block warden." You have a verbal agreement with the waste disposal company. The sidewalk is public space. Just let them "make noise."
Wow! Those are quite some stories.
I'm pretty boring in that regard. I've never had any disputes with neighbors. I've moved at least 15 times in my life. I always find them either nice or tolerable. I always maintain good contact with them.
I guess I'm just easy to get along with...
I'm pretty boring in that regard. I've never had any disputes with neighbors. I've moved at least 15 times in my life. I always find them either nice or tolerable. I always maintain good contact with them.
I guess I'm just easy to get along with...
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