You may be familiar with my Tweets about the Chavs next door. It would be unfair to call them nuisance neighbours. Actually, scrub that, they are nuisance neighbours, but I know very well that compared to the hell that many people have to endure they are moderate and spasmodic.
It started with the party that went on until 5 am, despite the visit from the Noise Squad
There was the incident when their barbecue was blowing smoke into our house on a hot sunny day, and I politely asked them to put it out or at least move it away from the boundary fence - only to be met with sneers from their little friends. They didn't move it, and smoke continued to billow into the house for another hour or so. (I emailed the nuisance squad).
There have been numerous other incidents, too frequent and yet too trivial to mention. Each of them taken alone wouldn't be worth mentioning, indeed, a bit of neighbour noise is welcome; if the alternative is someone who demands absolute quiet all the time, you'd be terrified even to put the TV on.
This evening, I'm watching the Tsarina's Slippers on the Sky+, when there's a knock on the door. I did what I always do: open the door without checking first. I know, me stupid. I thought it was probably my religious nutter neighbour, either wanting to know if it was my car blocking her access, or possibly, seeking help - with her husband over 80, practically blind and having had a couple of strokes, that's always a possibility.
Turns out it was one of the Chavs from next door. Asking me to turn my music down - because 'it's after 11 o'clock'. Splendid, I thought, time for a bit of fun.
I said no.
She asked again, pointing out again that it's after 11 o'clock. A conversation ensued where I suggested she had a cheek, because of the 5 am party. She rudely interrupted me mid-flow, to point out that I had called the noise squad, which is what she was going to do on me. I knew full well that the Tsarina's Slippers had less than half an hour to go; I also know it generally takes the Noise Squad at least an hour to respond.
So, laughing contemptuously, I said "You're asking me a favour; when I asked a favour..."
She explained that she wasn't asking a favour, she was telling...then she said,
"You ought to relax, you look like you're having a heart attack".
Now, remember I have a residual chest infection, that I had dropped what I was doing and stood up suddenly from the sofa, then opened the door to be met with very cold air blasting into my face, so I probably did look a bit taken aback.
But that was very rude. I don't like people who make rude personal comments. She doesn't know me, for all she knew I could have some chronic heart problem, Okay I don't, but she doesn't know that.
What a common little oik. She has this bleach blond expensive trendy haircut - looks a bit like Paula Yates before the drugs did for her - but underneath the thin veneer is one little madame. Accent is Old Kent Road on helium, with added whine and astonishing lack of inflection. Very strange body language, even stranger (lack of) facial expression. Weird. Which is all beside the point.
If you go round to someone's house and insult them on their doorstep, it's harassment. Obviously, not of a magnitude to warrant further action, but, nevertheless, noted in case it's the beginning of a campaign of harassment. Actually, I don't think it is. The three of them have proved over-and-again that they're not exactly the full shilling. She probably thinks that the best way to get people to co-operate with her is to be borderline intimidatory.
What she doesn't realise is that I am bored stupid with people who get their kicks out of putting me (and others) down. I went through a phase of trying to be nice to people, which is absolutely right for the vast majority of people.
But there is a certain type of person I encounter far too often. For whatever reason - and I think it's generally personal insecurity - they can only feel good about themself when they put other people down.
I don't think many of them actually realise they're doing it, it's a habitual defence mechanism, and it manifests itself differently in different people (or depending on the context). The trouble with such people is that it ends up that the only method of communication they really understand is one of competitive put-down.
For example, this Chav, it is completely pointless to try and say calmly "I think you are being unreasonable, given your past history" because she just wants to butt in with the next sneer. And yet, there's nothing to be gained by playing their game of sneer and put-down.
She asked me again to turn the music down, and I said 'No', she asked why not, I explained that 'I can't be bothered'. She actually staggered two steps back at that (she needs to relax, she looked like she was having a heart attack - not). It always pays to be honest. No point saying 'yes' and looking like you've given in; be honest, because many people can't actually cope with honesty. And if you don't want to be honest, behave with total apparent reasonableness (whilst thinking about completely unreasonable behaviour
She told me again I needed to relax, I look like I'm having a heart attack (clearly, she doesn't actually have the slightest clue what having a heart attack looks like, it's certainly different from someone with a chest infection gasping at the cold air).
And again she told me to turn it down, again I said I can't be bothered, I laughed, and I closed the door slowly and quietly but firmly.
I will fully admit that there were points in the Tsarina's Slippers which were really quite loud, and I had the TV volume set for the quieter moments. I will also accept that I have spent most of the past few days at home, I haven't really been out, and I suppose that either the stereo or the TV has been on most of the time between about midday and midnight, and they, too, have been in and out. Indeed, if I had a kind and considerate person living next door, my behaviour ie my sound levels would be different.
Jimmy's working tonight; he phoned me just after I finished watching the Tsarina's Slippers. He says I should never open the door to those awful people, and if they ever come round again, it is because they are intent on harassing me. He says I need to beware of New Year's Eve, and do not hesitate to call the Noise Squad the minute things get out of hand - because they've already been in trouble once, they're looking at much greater consequences than I am.
It's a funny situation. I really don't need or want to get into a conflict with here-today, gone-tomorrow renters. It sounds a bit childish to say "They started it", but they did. After their party, if they had a modicum of intelligence, they would have arranged for a bunch of flowers or at least a card to be delivered saying "Sorry we got off to a bad start." But they didn't, they just hide their heads in shame and embarrassment every time we pass on the drive (except for the occasions when they are in their cups and walking along the road drinking!).
Again, if it had been a one-off, I could easily have said, they misjudged, they didn't realise the implications of inviting 'friends of friends' to a house party. Indeed, if they had STFU and called it a day after the Noise Squad had called round, all would have been forgotten. But the simple fact that as recently as Saturday Night/Sunday morning they had another party, albeit one without audible sound system, that led to me having to insert earplugs at 2 am, seems to me that they are happy to carry on capriciously and thoughtlessly.
If I was living next door to a kind and considerate neighbour, the request to turn down the music would have been reasonable. And indeed, my response would have been "Oops sorry, I didn't realise it was so loud." Acts can't be judged in isolation from context.
I just wish I understood their psychology. It's probably just down to them believing they have a right to party and sod everyone else, which, actually, I can understand. But for them to start retaliating on me, I wish I knew where this was going. Any campaign of harassment will be nipped sharply in the bud. Trouble is, they can bugger off in February, when, I assume, their lease runs out; they start again with new neighbours (and be replaced by people perhaps more repugnant). So, they can spend the next six weeks or so being total and utter bitches with little fear of facing the consequences.
