Love thy neighbor...

What should we do when someone wears out their welcome? A friend of mine is currently struggling with a space invader. He has a friend who loves to stop by unannounced. This used to be an occasional occurrence, but lately it’s become a daily habit. My friend is threatening to develop a nasty habit himself — rudeness. He’s dropped subtle hints, then not-so-subtle hints. Neither has worked. It’s not like he can hide from this friend — he lives right next door.

I suggested he just be direct and tell the neighbor he needs some time for himself. This provoked a laugh. I guess some guys have a hard time telling other guys to go away. Next, I suggested that he put a “closed” sign on his door when he doesn’t feel like having company. He thought about this for a moment, but then decided his neighbor would think it was a joke. He also explained that just because he doesn’t want this guy over every day, it doesn’t mean that others aren’t welcome. Poor guy. His girlfriend is way beyond irritated with the situation.

One day, as my friend was complaining once again about his neighbor, I recalled my own experience with an overly friendly and intrusive neighbor. It was many years ago and I lived in a different hood, but my face still turned red as I remembered far too many details that I had tried hard to forget. This was one piece of trash I thought I had left at the curb a long time ago. Apparently, it made it into the recycle bin by mistake. Somewhat alarmed at my flushed appearance, my friend asked if I were okay.  I told him that I might have a solution to his problem.

It's important to note that I love where I live now. I always say that my current home is worth a lot more than market value because of my neighbor — my wonderful, beautiful, considerate, respectful, and genuinely nice neighbor who always calls first before she comes over. My husband and I live on a corner lot with only one house next to us. There are no houses across the street or directly below us. In fact, there are only 89 homes in the entire community. This isn’t by accident. We purposely sought out a home that afforded as much privacy as possible. Why? No deep, dark secrets here. We were scarred survivors of the know no boundaries neighbor syndrome. We swore that we would never fall into that quagmire again.

Let’s get back to my old hood so I can throw this away once and for all. We met our overly friendly neighbor two weeks before we moved into the house. At first, we were delighted with how friendly he was. After two years we had another opinion which we kept to ourselves. Not good. We didn’t share our thoughts with each other or our friendly neighbor for way too long. The first year was fine. We were friendly, but not too friendly. About a year and a half after we moved into this house, the wife of this friendly guy started working further away from home. She quickly tired of her five hour daily commute and during the week began staying with a friend that lived near her office. Her husband (truly a nice guy in smaller doses) found himself with a lot of free time on his hands. He was lonely. He loved to cook and invited us over often. This was nice, hospitable, neighborly and enjoyable in the beginning. We also reciprocated in kind. Oh what a tangled web we wove. After a few short months, I felt as if we were joined at the hip. It became awkward if my husband and I wanted to dine alone, as this neighbor would look over the fence and see that our grill was warming up. He’d call out to keep the coals going and that he was on his way to throw his steak on with ours. All too soon he progressed to the come on over unnannounced stage. I see now that this is where we should have nipped this friendly neighbor in the bud. Alas, we did not. Eventually, our friendly, great-guy neighbor bypassed knocking on our front door or ringing the bell. He would saunter around to our backyard with drink in hand, come in through the sliding glass door uninvited and sit down and make himself comfortable. The more comfortable he was in our home, the more uncomfortable I was.  I yearned for some privacy. I also longed for some alone time with my husband. Unfortunately, I never expressed this to anyone. I let it go because I was working long hours and was rarely home. I thought the neighbor provided my husband with some welcome company while I was off dealing with one deadline or another. I felt selfish resenting the nightly intrusion.

While I was busy not communicating with my husband about this issue, he was busy not communicating with me. He didn’t have any particular reason for not communicating with me, other than he’s just your average guy when it comes to expressing himself — especially if it might lead to confrontation. Bottom line: My husband was even more miserable with the situation than I was. He missed his space and just wanted to lie around on the sofa once-in-awhile doing whatever guys do when they lie around. He also missed our alone time. I found out later that our friendly neighbor had started running out to greet my husband as he pulled into the driveway each evening after work. Poor guy couldn’t even get out of his truck before he had company for the night.

involved nudity. Mine. One Saturday morning after I showered,  I realized that the clothes I wanted to wear were downstairs in the laundry room. I was alone in the house so I decided to dash downstairs to get them. Did I mention that my robe was also in the laundry room? I thought no one was at home for goodness sake. I remember feeling a little thrill as I ran down the stairs, however momentary...and it was momentary. Yep, you know where this is going. It seems that I wasn’t alone. That’s right. The neighbor was coming in through the sliding glass door at the same moment I reached the bottom of the stairs...and a nanosecond later my husband came into the house through the garage. I was stuck in the middle. Talk about an awkward threesome. As I frantically ran for cover, my up-to-this point patient husband finally started communicating

— at the top of his lungs. I don’t know if it was my embarrassment that set him off or his predictable male thought process telling him that if not for the neighbor’s untimely intrusion, he might have been able to capitalize on situation, but as I ran up the stairs I heard him yell something about using the front door, calling first or at least knocking. I also remember thinking that his two’s company and three’s a crowd remark was pretty harsh. I was not about to but in though — bad pun intended.

It seems that our reluctance to deal with our overly friendly, drop in anytime neighbor really paid off. We ended up with a very unfriendly and resentful neighbor. He was truly offended and from that day forward refused to look at me or my husband ever again. This was fine with me, as I was still embarrassed about our too close for comfort Saturday morning ménage a trois — which in French literally means “household of three.” Wow. I bet you were thinking I meant something else entirely.

Finally, if you're wondering how my story could possibly help my friend with his intrusive neighbor problem, it's simple. I told him to do what we did. Move.

Dedicated to all those suffering from the “know no boundaries” neighbor syndrome. "Knock-knock. Who's there? Your neighbor. Your neighbor who? Your neighbor who never knocks silly!"
© 2006 Teresa G. Franta