re: Cul-De-Sac Drama Stories

The cul-de-sac starts on the edge of my property, so I’m not sure I actually qualify for this thread. But, my ex-neighbor to the right is the only drama story I’ve got.

The neighbor was a regular baw. But his wife was this Martha Stewart wannabe. She had this male friend who, from all outward appearances, was a flaming effeminate homosexual. They were “besties”.

Well, apparently one night her bestie had crashed at their house following a party. The husband gets up in the middle of the night and finds his wife, buck naked on the living room couch, riding her “bestie’s” dick.

Divorce soon followed.

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They are as good as the people that lead them. Apparently you've never met any.

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Nope.

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Cul-De-Sac Drama Stories

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I lived in one for 11 years in Oklahoma City. We moved in in 1992.

The house to the right of us was owned by a young couple with no kids. He was a postal inspector. They are the police force of USPS and are considered to be Federal agents like FBI, ATF and Secret Service. His wife was a teacher but was always sick. Had some kind of chronic back problem and was addicted to pain meds.

The day of the Oklahoma City Murrah Building bombing, I got home from work, and he was standing on his driveway outfitted in full SWAT gear. I asked him why. He said that the USPS had evidence stored in the Murrah Building, and he had been ordered to go down there and stand guard over it.

Not long after that, my wife and I were sitting on our front porch, and he came over and told us that his wife had taken off with some guy she had been corresponding with on the internet. This was in the very early days of the internet. They were supposed to be going on a cruise, so he decided to go alone, and he met a single woman on the cruise and ended up marrying her.

They moved out and a family with 4 boys moved in. Two of them were in high school, one in middle school, and the other in grade school. The middle school kid's name was Tate.

The parents went to Vegas one weekend. In theory, the two older boys were supposed to be the only ones staying at the house, and the two younger boys were supposed to be staying at Grandma's house.

So, of course they had a party. The cul-de-sac was completely full of cars. There was no way for anyone else who lived there to get in or out.

Drunk kids were running around all over our front yard, leaving beer cans, bottles and other trash everywhere. I went out there around midnight and encountered Tate and one of his older brotherfs. I was polite about it. I just asked him to tell everyone to pick up their trash and stay off my yard.

Someone else called the cops. Apparently, the cops entered the house without a warrant. I'm guessing the kids invited them in.

After the parents got home, I was outside on my front porch drinking a bloody Mary. The mom came over and read me the riot act for calling the cops on her sweet boys. I was not the one, but she did not want to hear it. She also refused to believe that I had spoken to Tate. He was at grandma's house all night. bullshite.

They got divorced and moved out.

The family that moved in next were black. I got along well with the parents, but their high school son was a wanna-be G. He would never even acknowledge me. He would sit in his car on the driveway with the windows rolled up. All I could hear was the thump of the subwoofer.

The house behind us had several younger kids, and they had a trampoline.

Whenever my wife and I were out back, they would jump on their trampoline and yell stuff at us over the fence.

That is when we decided to move. We found a lot that backed up to an undeveloped city park. It was just a lot of trees and deer. We built a brand new house there. Much better location than the cul-de-sac.

I could tell you some stories about my antics, but I think it's best to let sleeping dogs lie.

There is one guy who drives by and tries to stare me down.

He can get fricked.

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I guarantee there's something going down in your culdesac, right now, that you haven't found out about yet.

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Oh, great. It just occurred to me that I'm probably the weird one in our cul-de-sac. Thank you soooo much for making me take a moment to think deeply about this and come to this conclusion. (I'll find a way to get you back.)

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he started shitting blood and passed out in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles

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There’s your problem. Pants should be fully off for shitting.

I live out in the woods you see, my woman and the kids and the dogs and me , ...

We have lived in ours for 26 years without major neighbor issues although I realize that can’t change with one new neighbor. House beside us is for sale so we shall see.

Probably the worst neighbor was a divorced woman who was an alcoholic. She would have H-E-B deliver two cases of Bud Lite longnecks to her house every two days. You can do the math. She weighed maybe 90 lbs. One time her ex had her son for a week or two and she lost her phone. She would come knock on our door to use my phone to call her son. I felt sorry for her and her son so I would let her do it. Another time she decided to shave her head and would wear this funky, silver colored wig.

One of the most interesting neighbors I had was a Texas Ranger who solved a couple of famous cases. I don’t want to say the cases because his name would be easy to find. He was an awesome neighbor. Drank many a cold beer with him in our driveways.

The stories keep circling each other.