Perfect Plans For You To Successfully Deal With Nosy Neighbors
The late Hope Summers, "Clara Edwards," on the Andy Griffith Show. She played the perfect nosy neighbor
Welcome to the neighborhood
It all starts so innocently. First, the friendly greeting, “Hi, neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood,” says “Thad Busby,” small business owner, “Busby’s Hardware,” in the center of town.
You being from a huge metropolis, are somewhat taken-back by his open greeting, so you eventually say, “Oh, uh, hi there, neighbor. Thanks for the welcome.”
“Anytime. If you need anything—help, directions, anything. Call me,” “Thad” says with a beaming smile that almost outshines his festive Christmas-colored vest sweater.
You share this with your wife. You both laugh. And continue to unpack and start getting used to this sweet suburban neighborhood. No police sirens blaring around the clock. No gang meetings on the corner. And no litter on the manicured-lawns up and down the block. Yes, “Jim,” moving here from Chicago was a wise move.
The essential nosy neighbors
"Gladys Kravitz," "Bewitched" nosy neighbor
My personal emcee
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another hub by Kenneth Avery, who has devoted himself, or part of himself, ha, ha, to helping others."
"As you may well know that by now, Kenneth is talking about the agonizing reality of nosy neighbors. You may have a few or you may not."
"But on the chance that you "do" have nosy neighbors and are at their mercy, read the rest of this story and you can get your lives back."
"Thank you and come back often."
The classic human step-up over the fence move
Nosy neighbors can numb your senses
In some mornings and evenings ahead, there is the same jovial tone of “Thad’s,” voice that reminds you of Mr. Rogers. “Hello, neighbor. Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t get your name. I am such a dunce,” “Thad” says and laughs.
You are semi-reluctant about giving “Thad” your name since you are from the big city and things are not done that way in Chicago.
“Oh, my name is “Jim. Jim Moore, and this is my wife, “Sandy,” and we are proud to meet you.” You say halfway ignoring “Thad,” by looking at his spit-shined penny loafers with real pennies in the tongue.
“Stop by my store later for a free cup of Joe,” “Thad” says opening the door of his Chevy Volt, which gets 50 mpg on the highway. 35 mpg. In the country.
You nod in agreement as you and “Sandy” hurriedly get into your car and head to work in “Golden Vine, Vermont,” population: 58,639. Your jewelry store chain has a branch in this town, one of the reasons why you and the family moved to a quaint little town like “Golden Vine.” “Sandy,” teaches fourth-grade math at “Golden Vine Elementary,” (naturally) and both you love your jobs—no real stress to speak of, home at dinner time, and neighbors who mind their own business. Again, “Jim,” moving to “Golden Vine,” should be your crowning-achievement in the decision-making area.
The nosy neighbors first wave of attacking you
It’s Monday evening and you are preparing to lock-up “Moore’s Jewelry and More,” located on Main Street and head home for a nice home-cooked meal with your wife. “Sandy,” who gets off at 3:30 p.m., is already at home fixing a nice rump roast with vegetables just for you. And for being her idea of “The Perfect Husband.”
Upon arriving home, you turn off your car engine, walk through the door inside the carport that leads to the kitchen and you see “Sandy,” and you wrap your arms around her. She wiggles a bit and says, “Who is that, Brad Pitt?” Then you both laugh, kiss passionately, and you just stand frozen—admiring your wife of 12 years. What a life, “Jim.” Neighbors would be jealous if they only knew just how blessed you are.
The table looks like a photo in Redbook, everything in its place and “Sandy,” glowing with love as she sits the delicious rump roast down in the center of the table. You are hungry as a mother wolf with a new littler of pups.
“Sandy” serves you first. She lays a nice layer of roast on your designer plate, then a few baby potatoes, carrots, and small onions accompanied by a slice of homemade bread.
She prepares herself pretty-much the same food, but no bread for she is still conscious about her figure even after 12 years of marriage.
Talk about perfect timing as in the Atomic Clock, the world’s most-accurate timepiece, you hear the doorbell.
Two nosy neighbors for the price of one
High-tech nosy neighbors
Brash nosy neighbors do not even try to hide
Your defensive instincts kick-in
“Shhh, pretend we aren’t home,” you whisper to “Sandy,” who has this mischievous look on her face.
“Ohh, just sit and enjoy, dear. After all, you stood on your pretty feet and prepared this feast,” you remark taking a sip of red wine.
You open the front door and there stands, “Thad,” and you look stunned.
“Uhh, sorry to bother you, I just came to see if I could . . .is that dinner I smell?” “Thad” quizzes looking past you.
“Thad, what can I do for you?” you ask with a stern tone.
“Oh, sorry. It’s just my wife, “Cassie,” is all thumbs in the kitchen—so we always eat-out or order carry-out,” “Thad” explains to you who is now bored from his presence.
“And you wanted what . . .?”
“Oh, ‘Jim,’ right? I needed a cup of sugar if you can spare one—and by the looks of this house, you can spare a bag full, haw, ha, haw,” “Thad” says slapping his flabby legs.
"They did whaaaatt? Naaah!"
"Agent 007?" Not hardly. A photographer nosy neighbor
N O T I C E
This story is not to imply in any way, that nosy neighbors are "bad" people. I would not want you to read something into this self-help hub that was not meant to be here.
Nosy neighbors, in all reality, do not really think that what they are doing is annoying to you and your family--some nosy neighbors' have such thick skins that even if you, in your most-demanding tone of voice, tell them to stay clear of you and your family, they just laugh it off and to get back to aggravating you, they spend two entire weeks apologizing to you.
It's like a disease, nosing into other people's affairs. Think about it. And while you are thinking, try to recall the last nosy neighbors you had and how that went.
I just wanted to clear the air, or clear the hub as it were so I would not be thought of as a bad man.
Does this "Thad," not get your cold hint that he isn't welcome?
“If ‘Cassie,’ doesn’t cook, why do you need sugar?” you ask in the fashion and style of Lt. Columbo (long live, Peter Falk).
“Uhh, we have guests over, and some wanted iced tea and I am the only one who remembers how to make it,” “Thad,” says while ogling as far as his beady-eyes will let him.
With not much gusto, you walk to the kitchen and fill his cup he must have bought at a dollar store somewhere, with sugar and walk back to where “Thad” was standing outside the front door, but no “Thad,” is standing there.
“What thu?” you exclaim at seeing “Thad” sitting in your favorite recliner just making himself at home—kicking his sock feet to and fro up and down kinda like he is paddling a kid’s boat at some amusement park.
“I just had to sit in this masterpiece. Say, where did you get this, ‘Jim,’” “Thad” asks with a boldness about him.
You are miffed at his butting-in attitude and walk him out of the front door without telling him farewell or goodbye.
You return to finish your nice dinner and share this sticky episode with “Sandy,” who has a saint’s heart who giggles and tells you to “just sloff it off, babe,” it’s only a cup of sugar and he liked your chair. That’s all.”
Then you realize, she is right. No use in you getting your blood pressure to shoot up four points. Just relax, eat your nice dinner, and relax.
"The Innocent Kids Nosy Neighbors Routine."
For his eyes only
"And Jeanne said, I won't get a divorce. I will see you in you know where!"
Note: I am not about to go into an elaborate, detailed story such as the story I did on “Vacationing With Your In-Laws: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” because I do not want you to tire yourself out reading my stories, so I will “cut to the chase,” and tell you one more instance that made “Jim Moore,” business-owner and good-hearted American upset. (Kenneth)
In the three weeks ahead, “Thad” visits you a total of ten times. Four in daylight, three at dusk, and three at night. His reasons were varied from needing a hammer to use to fix “Cassie’s” flower stand, Then “Thad,” borrowed your electric saw and a level because he is going to build a storage shed with his oldest son, “Kal,” (who lives in New Hampshire working as a traffic manager for the CFX&M railroad), who said he would drive down one warm weekend to help “Thad” with this project.
Then “The straw that broke the camel’s back,” was the night at 11 p.m. “Thad” almost wore-out your doorbell getting you to answer the door because he needed a few aspirins to calm “Cassie,” down because she had seen a wild hare running across the yard before she retired to bed.
And with each of “Thad’s” visits, he had questions . . .about where you buy your furniture, what kind of rate did the bank give you on this house, is “Sandy” a divorcee, and the “icing on the cake,” was when he asked you if one of your Korean employees were gay.
With each of these annoying, time-wasting visits “Thad” made, you kept your cool. I would grade you around an A on self-discipline. I am doggone proud of you, “Jim.”
But “the” one incident that brought your juices to their boiling point was two Saturday mornings ago when you were mowing your lawn and “Thad,” stuck his melon-shaped head over the cedar fence waving you down.
Comfy-cozy nosy neighbor
And it just keeps on nosing
“What now?” you thought to yourself, but you went to see what he wanted anyway. Hey, you are a nice guy.
“Uh, ‘Jim,’ I hate to bring this up, but, uhhhh, you need to come with me over to my house and answer a few questions from ‘Cassie,’ and myself for we are the “Shady Rock Community,” neighborhood managers, and it’s just a formality, ‘Jim,’ so please. I promise it will not take over ten minutes,” “Thad,” says with an annoying tone.
You are visibly-angry. Your gait is even the gait of an angry man. “Sandy,” who has been watching this unfold yells from the carport, “Huneee, something wrong?”
You wave her off as to say, “I got this.”
“Thad” and “Cassie,” are very cordial. They hand you a cold beer and have you to sit in the coolest place in their living room.
Nosy neighbors can be very cunning
The questions “Thad” and “Cassie” ask are a few of these below:
- “How much do you make per year and how much does your wife make a year/?
- “You plan on having anymore kids?”
- “Is your store gay-friendly?”
- “Does your wife have a police record? We are mighty-sticky about this with our teachers. Can’t be too careful.”
- “What kind of television shows do you two watch mostly?”
- “Have you ever been promiscuous, “Jim?”
- “Has “Sandy” been unfaithful at any time of your marriage?”
to getting control of your life back into your hands!
You finally take action
You answer each question with authority and surety. You do not sweat one drop nor do your hands shake for being so angry.
“Thad,” afraid he has angered you, apologizes over and over. Even “Cassie,” apologizes and shows you where they were asked these same questions when they moved into this neighborhood.
On the way back to your riding mower to finish mowing the yard you think, “well, maybe it was the rules, but those other unwanted questions, those are going to stop.”
That evening before dinner, you share your interrogation to “Sandy” who laughs and kisses you with a long hot kiss before you two sit down to another banquet.
“I got it, ‘Sandy.’” You say with excitement.
“What’s that, dear?” she asks while dipping you a hefty-serving of Vietnamese wild rice.
“I am going to call that guy, Kenneth Avery, who writes for a HubPages thing somewhere and see if he has any tips on . . .
“How to Cope With and Deal With Nosy Neighbors,”
Laying around in his office.
Of course I do have what “Jim” is seeking: relief from two nosy neighbors who are making him and his wife miserable.
And these are the tips that I gave my friend, “Jim,” and his lovely wife, “Sandy.”
- The next time you and your wife return from work or an errand, when you both get out of the car, you both stop and glare at “Thad” and “Cassie,” sitting in their aluminum lawn chairs with plastic wrapping. And glare until the Busby’s get uncomfortable and go into their home. Do this about four times and you might see a difference.
- Buy yourself a sign that reads . . .”Do Not Enter! Quarantined! Dangerous Disease—Very Contagious,” and stick it on the outside of your door when you see the “Busby’s” coming. Nothing says “leave us alone,” like a fake disease.
- If “Thad” ever gets to talk to you inside your house, have “Sandy” call you on her cell phone from upstairs. Then you go nuts at what she says. “Thad,” being the natural nosy neighbor that he is will ultimately ask, “Who was that, ‘Jim,’ to which you reply, “My parole officer telling me that I need to start contacting the parole officer down here in Golden Vine as soon as possible.” And leave it there. “Thad” might ask, “What did you do?” Then you play the trump card, “I don’t want to talk about it if you don’t mind,” as you walk “Thad” out of your home.
- Paste black and white 8x0 pictures of Adolph Hitler, Bonnie and Clyde, Jesse James, and other killers on the back of the photos hanging on your wall. When you see “Thad” and “Cassie” coming, start turning the photos from back to front.
- Get a few magazines that deal with Snake Farming and lay them around your living room in stratetic places and when “Thad,” visits to borrow something, he will see these magazines and ask, “You are not serious about rasing snakes are you, ‘Jim’” “Sure, “Thad,” it’s a great way to bring in extra money.” Then act tough by saying, “You got a problem with this?”
- If you have a few guy friends who look like members of The Mafia and own cars to match, have them visit you and “Sandy” only when you know that “Thad” and “Cassie,” are outside relaxing in their K-Mart lawn chairs. Then have each of your “Mafia” pals stop and glare at “Thad” and “Cassie,” before long, you and your lovely wife, “Sandy,” will be nosy-neighbor-free.
- Or you can just tell “Thad,” . . .”We are not people persons, ‘Thad,’ so would you stop with all of this sugar-borrowing and other bogus visits?”
- Sure you have hurt “Thad’s” feelings, but he will get over it.
But what you didn’t know is that you not only got rid of nosy neighbors, “Thad” and “Cassie,” but the two-thousand dollars in cash—the buy-in price to your “Snake Ranch,” that you told “Thad” you were starting.
Coming soon . . .”How to Successfully Deal With a Windbag Frat Brother”
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