When someone moves into a new home, one of the first things they do is go over and meet their new neighbors. It's one of those signs of courtesy that good relationships are built upon. The new neighbors become great friends, they turn to each other for help on big projects or in times of need. Their families become intertwined.
That is... unless they have terrible neighbors who do everything in their power to make their life as miserable as possible.
The people in the following stories fall into that second camp as they recently shared on a Reddit thread asking people to share the rudest thing their neighbor ever did to them. After reading these comments, it's safe to say that it's better to simply get along with neighbors instead of waging small wars over nothing. All posts have been edited for clarity.
Talk About Being Passive Aggressive
“My sophomore year of college was my husband’s (then-boyfriend’s) freshman year. He ended up getting a room in a different wing of the same building. So naturally, we were glad to spend some time together. I should say at this point we were a fairly innocent kind of couple; we hadn’t done anything besides make out and certainly wouldn’t have done anything beyond handholding and cuddling with someone else in the room.
Which brings us to his roommate. He hated me from the moment he met me. He seemed to have some control freak issues, and occasionally having a girl visiting his room caused him great distress. We were trying to be sensitive to that, gradually working out how much of ‘me’ he could stand.
About two weeks into the semester, my husband and I were cuddling up for a nap, thinking roommate was off at class. Literally a nap. Both fully clothed. I’m not even sure I had my shoes off.
Roommate comes in, sees the two of us, turns around, runs out, and slams the door.
We both roll our eyes, but figure he’s just being weird. We decide to chill in my room instead for the rest of the day.
The next morning, someone made a sticky note collage on the door to their dorm room. It made one large sheet for a bad Sharpie drawing of a woman (ostensibly me) with her mouth wide open with the word ‘Harlot’ emblazoned across the top.
He didn’t come back except to gather his stuff and transferred to some other room, presumably to terrorize someone else. Good riddance to that crazy dirtbag. My husband’s next roommate was much better.”
The Snow “Removal” Was Just The Beginning
“Right before I moved into my newly finished house, there was a big snow storm. My awful neighbor threw all of his snow onto my driveway and had the nerve to tell me I should shovel my sidewalk.
I had a guy moving into a room in my house. He was helping the truck driver back into the driveway. He stepped one step into the neighbor’s driveway and the neighbor came out filming him, telling him to get off his property.
He has a dog that doesn’t stop barking. A golden poodle that is crazy. I love dogs, but man, can that dog get annoying. I feel bad for that dog because it has to live with such a terrible person.
He also yelled at my guests for parking in front of his house. I see why he can be upset, and honestly tell my guests to park at my house but I can’t control everyone all the time. Plus, it’s public space so he can get lost.
Then he made a ton of frivolous complaints to the county about my house, none of which were breaking any laws.
Why does he do this you ask? Because during construction of my house, the builder hit his sewer line while excavating. How? Because his sewer line illegally ran through my property and wasn’t shown on any deed or civil drawings.
Why is he mad at me in particular and not the builder, the county or his builder that illegally ran that sewer line? I have no clue.”
Pettiness Met By The “Ultimate Power Move”
“The neighbor next to my parents’ house liked to park their car in front of my parents’ place. They were the last house on a dead-end street, so the neighbors would just park their car right at the end and frequently block one of my parents’ cars or take up a space. Their reasoning was that ‘they had always parked there’ and my parents moving in was not going to stop them. Their car was also a crummy old thing that leaked oil all over the road outside the house.
I visit one week and bring my car. I have no choice but to park it parallel to the neighbors’ car which, along with my mother’s in front, boxes them in. It’s fine for a few days and then the neighbor bangs on our door and yells at us to move one of the cars. My mother is drying her hair but says she’ll be out in a moment to do it and to chill. She goes back upstairs and literally 30 seconds afterwards, I see the neighbor from our kitchen window. He gets in his car and drives up onto our front lawn. He drives across the whole of our front garden to get around my mother’s tiny car, leaving deep tire marks in the grass. I yell up to my mum what I just witnessed. My mother is livid.
I only witnessed this part from a distance but she went over and banged in their door to discuss it, but they wouldn’t open it to her. She opened the slot in the door for letters and screamed through it at them. My mother is Russian and this is suburban England, so this couple have an irate Soviet-born woman screaming in a thick accent about manners and patience and neighborly love. The police were called. My mother was unrepentant.
Thankfully, the police saw the state of our lawn and heard from me what I’d seen and told the neighbors that if they were going to be scumbags, they could open the door and hear my mother out, and they were the ones that got a warning.
In a ultimate power move, my mother gave them a Christmas card that year. They reciprocated. It was tensely civil ever since.”
Sound The Alarms
“I had a neighbor who had an alarm system that would go off for hours sometimes. My room was right near it. This was in South Africa, and these were large lots with lots of driveway space.
I once lost my mind and yelled over the wall at the neighbor about the alarm. She threatened to have her husband ‘mess me up,’ and implied he would come shoot me up.
Some time later, they were having construction work done and they had several trucks of sand delivered. I convinced the folks delivering them that I was their son and that they should dump it on the front driveway, instead of around the back. They had mounds of sand all over their driveway.
It was glorious. It also caused a war between our families that almost got physical many times.”
What Do Bad Neighbors, A Tree, And A Beat Up Car Have In Common?
“When I was little, my dad and one of the neighbors had this long running feud going. It started over a massive pine tree in the neighbor’s front lawn that hung over our driveway dropping needles and sap all over our cars. My dad contracted a tree company to have the overhang cut and because the tree was diseased, they had to basically shave off one side of the tree all the way to the trunk. The neighbor then tried to sue my dad unsuccessfully for damages. He ended up being forced to have the tree removed to boot.
After this, the neighbor turned into that guy that calls the cops for literally everything. Our ball went over the fence in his yard? If we tried to get it, he called the cops and said we were trespassing. Dog barked? Called the cops to make a noise complaint.
Seven years later, my step-mom and her three sons moved into my dad’s house. The oldest step-brother is in his early 20s and owns a 1969 Chevy Trailblazer. The thing is a rust bucket and is loud. He worked late and usually got home around 8 or 9 pm in the summer. He worked in landscaping and construction. A week after they moved in, the neighbor flagged my step-mom down and told her that ‘that eyesore has to be parked somewhere else so I can’t see it,’ then called her a bunch of names when she tried to explain it was her son’s truck.
My step-mom nodded and assured him she would take care of it in the kindest sweetest tone I’ve ever heard. She then promptly went inside and told my step-brother that the next day she expected a bobcat and a load of gravel. She instructed him the make himself a parking space next to the end of the driveway right next to the property line so that every morning when he looked out his window, there that truck would be. The neighbor protested by having a small boulder placed on the property line to try to keep the truck from being able to fit. My step-brother simply revved the engine and drove over it a few times till the neighbor moved it.”
Their Blood Is Still Boiling Over This One
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“I once lived in a townhouse that was connected to other townhouses. There were parking lots in between each building. The parking lots had one open space and one garage space for each home. If you had more cars, tough; gotta find somewhere else to park.
A family living across the street owned at least five cars, and their kids in their 20s always had people over. All the neighbors had issues with this one family (noise, litter, general disrespect), but their excessive parking lot spaces were ridiculous. Even with assigned parking, they would park in people’s spots. And when there weren’t any open spots to steal, they would park in front of garage doors, in the middle of the parking lot, and behind cars.
So every time I came home from work with no parking spot because of them, I had them towed. This is what the community manager told me to do. If I got up for work and couldn’t get out of my garage or parking spot, I had them towed. If they were parked in front of the dumpsters, I had them towed. If they were parked in my elderly neighbors’ spots, I had them towed. They were parked in so many spots once that an ambulance couldn’t get to my 95 year old neighbor quickly.
They never stopped parking like complete dirtbags, so I kept calling the tow company. Ugh! Just writing this makes my blood boil as if it was still going on today.”
That Explains The Dog’s Behavior
“When I was younger, we lived in a neighborhood right next to our elementary school, so we had a lot of kids we went to school with as neighbors.
We would knock on each other’s doors all the time asking to come out and play, until one day when a little girl from next door knocked and my dog freaked out and attacked her. Nothing too serious, just one bite that broke skin.
We were super confused because he had always been so friendly. We tried to be more careful with him and nothing else happened until a different little girl from across the street came over and my dog knocked me on my rear to get to her so he could bite her. Bit her once on the butt and then watched as she ran away. It was at this point that we realized our dog hated little girls.
We always thought that it was just the high pitched noise of their voices freaking him out our something. Well, we were always super careful to keep him away from little girls until we could very slowly introduce him, and he was always super tense and panicky around them.
A few years later, we move out of that house. A day or so before we left for good, we were talking to the neighbor whose daughter our dog had initially bit. Turns out, his daughter confessed that for years she would get on the wall that dived our backyards and throw rocks at him.
To this day, our dog freaks out and attacks little girls or anyone with a very high pithed voice.”
They Just Sat There, Eating Lobster And Glaring
“The backyard was technically a shared yard, but we had the lower grassy area and they had the deck that was raised about eight feet above and they put this swinging patio couch at the very end so they could stare into our part of the yard.
I think it all started when she walked into my apartment with out knocking through the back door and asked if we could split the internet. I was an avid online gamer back then so I didn’t want anyone slowing it down. So, politely I said, ‘No, thank you.’
And so then she starts with, ‘Well, I can put it in my name if it makes you feel better.’ Once again, I politely declined. So she became angry and said, ‘Look, I was trying to be neighborly, but you obviously don’t want that’ and then she stormed off.
She didn’t even close the door behind her.
We had a couple people over in the summer so we were sitting outside having a couple of drinks, and the neighbors came out with two huge cooked lobsters each and stared at us while they ate these lobsters. The craziest part was that they were eating them plain, with NO BUTTER! They didn’t talk to each other, they just kept on glaring and eating lobster. And then they finished and went inside.
We eventually were forced to leave because they kept doing other terrible things and we had to call the cops on them numerous times.
We got our revenge, though. Our freezer gave out before we left so we took the defrosted meat and threw it under the deck and left a couple of pieces under the cushions of that patio swing (There were a lot of raccoons in the area).”
An Immature, Yet Just Way Of Handling Things
“I had a neighbor who was in their early 20s and must have been just about to get their drivers license. The reason I say this, and the source of my frustration was; the guy would start up his car and do burnouts from end to end in his driveway. He would never take it on the road, just start it up and put it to the mat from one end to the other.
I went over and asked him to knock it off because his truck was very loud (exhaust leak I suspect). He refused and carried on this way for another week or so.
Finally, I had enough, and one night got up around 2 am, walked across the street and took matters into my own hands. I opened the door of his mid 80s scottsdale, popped the hood and went about swapping around some plug wires on the distributor cap.
It was about a month or so before I heard the truck start up again, and I saw him trying to fix on it several times with no luck.
I know it was an immature thing to do, but I do not regret it. I suspect he knows it was me, but after that I did not have any further issues.”
Their Neighbors Have It Out For The Dog
“I live in a small complex in Garden Grove, California.
I got approved to have my service dog live with me as I need him to be able to function. Many of the people in the complex are terrified of him, even though he is the sweetest dog in the world. He is a 6-month-old Husky that was professionally trained for his service, and he is sweet to everyone – especially kids.
The neighbors in the surrounding units have tried to find every reason to complain: He will bark at me (two to three times max) whenever he has to go the bathroom so he doesn’t pee on the carpet. One time, he barked at 10:30 pm and then they complained about it. A week later, they complained about it again, on a day my girlfriend and I weren’t even in the area. Today, they complained that ‘Even though I clean up after the dog when he goes in the courtyard, it still smells in the area and the children are afraid of him.’
They are trying every ridiculous thing possible to try and get rid of my LICENSED service animal, even though he is super sweet and well behaved – and he’s never done anything to them. I personally think that is absolutely absurd.”
The Identity Of The Vandal
“The apartment I live in now is a converted basement apartment out of someone’s house. My wife and I park in front of the landlord’s house in the street.
One month after I moved in, my car was vandalized in the middle of the night. The next day, I walked up and down the entirety of the block and saw my car was the ONLY car vandalized despite there being plenty of potential targets.
About a month later, we had a bad snowstorm, and while digging my car out, the guy across the street (I guess the homeowner) approached me and asked me if that was my my car…quite rudely, I might add. I said ‘Yeah.’ He asked if there was any possibility I could park it further up or down the block to accommodate driveway clearance for his big truck. I told him no. I didn’t wise crack him or anything, I just said, ‘No’ because he had more than enough room to get in and out.
It was that moment that I suspected he was the one who vandalized my car.
Other than that, there were times where I would try to be friendly and say hello if we happen to be leaving/coming from work, only to be met with silent stares from him and his family. There was a time one morning I was leaving for work, his wife rolled in the driveway and refused to get out of the car until I was halfway down the street.
Recently, it’s escalated into them throwing garbage on our side of the street. And I know it was them because late one night during a Taco Bell run, I found a cardboard shipping box wedged in between the bumpers of my wife’s car and mine, which had their address on the shipping label.
For now, I’m just trying to keep the peace until we save up to move into our own place.”
I Don’t Know If There Are Any Winners Here
“My mother owned a house on a pretty rural street and for a few years, she rarely slept there, staying with her boyfriend instead. One summer, her lawn got a little out of control since she was never home to mow it when it wasn’t raining.
For years, this had happened occasionally and never been a problem, but a few months before someone had built a McMansion across the street and they elected to report her to the city for a code violation. She got the letter and got the lawn mowed immediately, but a couple of months later the grass grew just a tiny bit higher than code allowed and the neighbors reported her again.
So this frustrated my mother a bit, and she did a little research to determine exactly what the requirements were regarding lawn care. What she found out was that, while the city had very specific requirements as to the maximum allowable height for grass, the code did not actually require that there be any grass at all. One trip to Home Depot later and she was in possession of a large quantity of herbicide, and for the rest of the summer her lawn was brown and dead.
The neighbors never complained about the height of her grass again.”
When Enough Is Enough
“It was a snow day when I was about 12 and I was sledding on the neighborhood hill with my sister.
I was about 90% of the way down the hill, whizzing gleefully on my little pink saucer, when something cold and hard smacks me in the side of my face, setting me off balance, and I tumbled off my saucer. More snowballs come, and man, they are nasty snowballs and they hurt. I try to cover my head and neck but failed. After a solid minute of these brick-like snowballs being hurled at me, they stopped, and I look around, soaked with snow and ice, and bleeding from cuts on my face. The neighborhood gang of bullies, five boys twice my size and two years my senior, were laughing their heads off at me.
So, I do the only logical thing to do. I stand up, in all my 4’8 glory, walk over to the ringleader, and hit him as hard as I can, in the nose, with my saucer. He falls over. I leave. My parents are very concerned when I walk through the front door bleeding and soaked, and my mom asks, ‘Oh gosh darling what happened are you okay?’
I respond, ‘You should see the other guy,’ and my dad dies of laughter as I recount the story. He was quite proud.
The boys never looked my way again.
Honestly, I wish I still had the kind of no-cares-given courage that 12-year-old me did. I was an idiot, but I was a tough idiot.”
Afraid Of Snakes?
“I had some neighbors years ago who thought it was a great idea to call my German Shepherd over to the (chainlink) fence between our yards and feed him treats through it. I didn’t know about this—it was one of few points in the fence I couldn’t see from inside, and I’d sometimes let him run around in the fenced yard while I cooked or did chores inside by the window.
They had several small, loud dogs, who lost their minds barking whenever my dog approached the fence—which they’d essentially trained him to do by rewarding him every time he did it.
So, one day I was in my yard and there’s this guy screaming at me from a distance, on his side of the fence. He looks like a ‘King of the Hill’ character (white, late 40s, big gut protruding and stretching his ratty tank-top, carrying a can of cheap brew) and is clearly wasted. He was trashed and spouted off this irate rant at me over how mad it made him that my ‘vicious’ dog came over to the fence and ‘scared’ his little dogs. Then another neighbor came outside and told me about the whole treat thing, which they admitted to.
He went on and on about what an awful person I was for letting this happen, and said it’d been going on forever. I said I hadn’t known anything about it—and that they never should’ve fed my dog without my knowledge or permission—and asked why they’d never come to my door to let me know there was a problem.
His reason? He didn’t know what kind of person I was and was too afraid I’d shoot him
I’m not some sort of hillbilly, gangbanger, or whatever other stereotype one might expect to answer the door with a weapon. I’m a 130-lb female emergency and psych medicine worker.
That guy absolutely detested me after that and attempted to exact petty revenge by calling city authorities to report that the grass in my yard was ‘too long’ and he was afraid that venomous snakes would start colonizing it. The city didn’t care, but it was pretty funny.”