The saga of our lousy neighbors continues.

If you’ve followed along for the past 7 years, you know what we’ve been through and can skip to the last paragraph for the latest in a string of indecencies.

For those catching up, our respective back patios are adjacent, with a wooden fence between us. Their upstairs master bedroom and ours face each other, overlooking our respective patios and with just a small courtyard separating us.

When they moved in, we invited them over to dinner, introduced them to our neighbors, showed them how close our homes were, and tried our best to be nice people.

Then, their parties started.

Now it should be known that my husband and I aren’t too old to remember fun times and good parties, but this isn’t that. They don’t seem to be able to grasp the concept of close living. Parties on their patio continue regularly, even through the pandemic, when earlier this spring, 20-30 people gathered on their back patio for an all day/nighter.

In one of our many conversations with the police (who have told us repeatedly that we DO have a right to peace and quiet after 9 pm, btw), they encouraged us to simply call the police when they start, but we have found that it isn’t quite as simple as that.

The police certainly have more important things to do than show up on a weekend when a neighbor complains of noise. In good conscience, we simply can’t call them every time it happens.

We have always been happy to forgo formalities of a noise ordinance and have told our neighbors that, as well — and the day after one of their parties, when cooler heads prevailed, we went over to talk to them and ask (once again), could you please, please, please, ask your guests to go inside at the latest by midnight? We even brought a basket of chocolates and a fancy bone for their dog to sweeten the request.

They responded that it is their patio and their right to do whatever they wanted to. We have been entertained with their guests taunting their massive German shepherd (who actually is the politest member of their family) to bark through the night. And, then there was the time when a guest decided to play basketball against the side of their house at 2 a.m.

And, even when they are few in number, they are smokers, and so, even during the coldest months, we can set our clock by the every-20-minute smoke breaks out on the patio through the wee hours. Those breaks are always accompanied by screaming and shrieking and dog barking and all sorts of fun. By the way, they have a front porch, with a parking lot facing it (so they would bother no one), and yes, we have suggested that they move the necessary smokes to that location. Nope, that would make too much sense for these two.

The awesome times continued through the years. We bought ear plugs, slept in our guest room, and invested in a white noise machine, and noise reducing curtains and blinds. None are a match for screaming guests, barking dogs, and doors slamming and one time, a fist fight. At least that was entertaining.

In the early days of this mess, when the party was getting started, while they were still somewhat sober (a tip from the police!), we asked them if they might go inside before midnight. That was when they threatened my husband.

I swear on all that is holy, here is the exact request my husband made to them:

“Hey guys, y’all are really loud. Would you mind taking it inside soon?”

To which they responded, “Shut the F up dude. Keep complaining and we’ll f*ck you up.”

As I said, fun times.

There are no other neighbors affected by the noise. Ours are the only two single family homes that back up to each other in our section and trust me, we have checked with any neighbors in the vicinity, because we figured if they made calls to the police, too, it might help. No luck. The living spaces of the nearest neighbors are on the other side of their home and not in proximity to hear much, except the dog on occasion.

Their house sits at a crossroads, so they can see the police coming. On the two occasions we have called the police, they scurried inside, making it difficult for police to verify what we are dealing with. An officer suggested we audiotape (not video) the noise, which we have. But, and this is a big but, the two times the police have come, we were treated to all night retribution in the form of screaming and yelling once they left. We have decided that it is just too dang dangerous to aggravate them. Yes, we do believe they own firearms (ex-military).

It should be noted that the police warned us not to contact the neighbors again, but to go through the non-emergency number for any contact because of their volatility, so we have not tried again to reason with them.

We live in a very nice quiet, tree-lined neighborhood in East Village full of well-maintained single-family homes and lovely neighbors. We picked our home because it was a sfh, with nearly 3,000 sf, but little yard maintenance. Ha. Who knew that part would come back to bite us?! What we would give for a full yard between us.

Yesterday morning, we were woken up at 6:45 am when a team of roofers descended on their back patio to set up for a full tear/down re-reroofing of their home. They brought ladders that they set up in our side yard, the tar paper and boards were flying everywhere along with many, many nails. It would have been impossible under the best circumstances to not allow debris (lots and lots and lots of bits of paper and wood and old shingles) to litter our yard, but the ladder in our side garden really pissed me off, given that we had just had new bushes and fresh mulch installed.

We understand that home maintenance in tight quarters needs to happen. And, if I’m being honest, having spent the last seven years watching trees grow out of their gutters and moss grow on their roof, it is a welcome sight. The noise and chaos is not the problem.

We’re early risers, so that doesn’t bother us, either, but what is so damn cheeky (downright rude) is that they gave us no notice. We had no flipping idea that we might need to move our home offices to the basement for the better part of the week. Who does that??

They do, of course.

They are not home, by the way. No answer on their phones, no answer by texts. We went out to talk to the guys doing the roofing and asked that they kindly move their stuff out of our garden, but that if they needed anything, we could help get it for them.

Day two has arrived and at the stroke of 7 a.m., the banging has begun.

SO, this morning, amidst the clanging, and shouting, and loud incessant buzzing of the compresser right outside our kitchen window, I find myself on Zillow looking at homes for sale anywhere but here.