People Share Their "Can't Get Much Worse" Neighbor Experience

There must have never been a dull moment living next to these folks.

“I lived next to three bro-type mid-twenties guys, who clearly all just found each other on Craigslist, for a year a while back. Row homes, so we shared a wall. I’m just gonna give them all names. Brad, Dave, and Sherman. Here are some highlights:

Brad’s girl knocking on OUR door at 3 am to have a fight with him and then barging into our house and falling asleep on our couch.

Then he showed up, and they had their fight in our living room, then she left, then he left and came back five minutes later with a bottle of whisky and drank it, by himself, while he sat on our stoop in his tank top, basketball shorts, long socks, and sandals. Around 9 in the morning, I heard her waking him up by screaming his name at the top of her lungs about five times.

He passed out on the stoop.

Sherman and Dave showing up to a party at our house, uninvited, with a case of beer that turned out to be empty. They bragged about it to our other female roommate, who kicked them out.

All three of them standing outside of our houses whenever we had a party, trying to get girls to come to their party instead.

Brad crashing his dad’s car into Sherman’s car, which in turn, crashed into our other neighbor’s car.

Everyone was in their car when this happened. The first thing out of Brad’s mouth, “Sorry dude, I was itching my b*lls.” They all laughed it off, except for our other neighbor, who called the cops.

Brad getting a DUI for crashing his dad’s car into Sherman’s car which in turn crashed into our other neighbor’s car and dropping several N bombs during his arrest.

All three of them getting arrested for peeing off of their roof into their own backyard, mid-day, sh*tfaced, on Easter.

They narrowly escaped being charged with exposing themselves to minors since they were in plain view of our neighbors family gathering.

Brad moved out after that, and the last time we saw him, he had one of those “comfy” toilet seats around his neck while carrying a box of his belongings which were: A lamp, a framed picture of himself graduating from high school, some socks, a weight, and a bottle of head and shoulders.

Sherman making us cookies because they had a party and threw all of their trash into our back yard all night long because they ran out of trash bags.

Dave sobbing in his room all night long.

Dave getting banned from the local bar because he was on some unknown substance and repeatedly passed out in progressively stranger places and positions.

Dave getting re-banned from the local bar when he had attempted to use a menu to obscure his face while having Sherman order.

Dave sitting on our stoop drinking moonshine literally all morning, while holding some sort of legal textbook, and telling every passing woman that he was studying for his LSATS (false). Dave also tried this on my roommate’s girl and her mom, and when they just walked past him leaving us momentarily together on the stoop before I closed the door, said, “Dude, can you believe chicks are falling for this?”

Dave and Sherman arguing about whether or not Dave s*it himself.

Dave falling off our roof and landing in our very large overgrown rose bush.

Sherman getting into a trash fight/verbal argument with an old Chinese woman who had beaten him to a bookcase someone else on our street threw away.

Sherman losing that fight.

The two weeks in which Dave had a partner and was clearly lying about his job/having a job, he would actually leave his house with her every morning in a shirt and tie, sweaty as f*ck, drive her to work, and come home.

Then leave again and come back with her. He would also make a big show of being a sober healthy individual who, you know, sometimes drank but “never really got drunk” and “didn’t really like how it felt.” He usually gave you this speech while swigging from a gallon bottle of water and sweating profusely.

The time Dave crashed his car in an empty parking lot while he was blackout drunk, after running three consecutive red lights and evading arrest somehow, and then just went home, prompting the police to show up and straight-up arrest him at 3 am.

It was during this interaction that someone let it slip that this is like his umpteenth drinking-related arrest and his girl stopped yelling at the cops and started yelling at him while he just kept shouting some sh*t about it just being mouth wash and for the cops to just “get her home safe,” “I’ll sort it all out baby I promise,” “Baby, why are you crying? Aw, babe…”

The second time Dave fell off of our roof, but this time he missed the bush and landed on the concrete and spent the next hour and a half crying like a baby for someone to come help him.

Then he yelled at us for not getting there quicker. This was the day we realized we were on a first-name basis with several police officers.

Sherman has his computer seized by the police.

Sherman is arrested for…corporate…espionage…which…obviously….

Anyway, with Sherman moving on to better things, we now enter the “Just Dave” era. Some highlights:

Dave forgetting which door was his about twice a week.

Dave locking himself out almost every day somehow.

Dave cutting his belly open climbing into our alley because he locked himself out and covering both of our backyards in blood.

Dave getting banned for the THIRD time, from the local bar, for trying to sneak in one of the many rotating underage “good time party bros” or drug dealers. And then popping his stitches and bleeding everywhere. While wearing a cowboy hat and fake facial hair.

I dunno if that was part of his plan or just some other adventure.

This is also when we started actively f*cking with him because we knew he was moving out and that his landlord had sold the house to some young gentrifier. He was allowed to see out his lease as long as there was no more damage (the place was a disaster at this point) and no more major incidents of any kind.

We put every speaker in our house up against our shared wall and played recordings of giant turtles mating, and responded to his texts with, “Nah man, no one’s home, not us” until he finally flipped out and called the cops, but we heard him doing it during a gap in the sounds, and so we called the cops and said the noise was coming from his place, hid the speakers, and left.

He got a citation, and so somewhere in writing, he’s been charged with playing animal mating sounds at a volume exceeding acceptable levels.

I would pick up rocks from the construction site across the street, and place them on his side of the stoop, right in front of his door. Each night I grabbed a bigger rock, until one day there was essentially a piece of debris the size of a basketball just sitting in front of his door.

My room is above the stoop, and every morning I’d been watching him move the rocks and becoming more and more frustrated. I did this for at least two weeks. In the morning when he saw the giant rock, he finally lost it. Flipped out, screaming, pacing angrily, whole nine. The “invisible conspiracy I can’t believe none of you sheeple see” kind of flip out. But then something truly amazing happened…he grabbed the giant rock and threw it directly at the facade of his house.

Which broke an enormous piece of…some part of the building (not an architect) off. These are really old houses…this was definitely not a cheap or easy thing to fix. He just stood there staring at what he’d done and then just started slamming the rock into the steps screaming f*ck until he sort of fell across the sidewalk backward and smacked his head into a parked car. The alarm went off and he went inside. About twenty minutes later, the cops showed up. Two days later, he was gone.”