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Back in the late 80's I was renting one side of a duplex in East Texas.
My neighbors on the other side of the duplex were horrible. They stole cantaloupes, watermelons, and tomatoes from my garden. I caught the wife one night in my back yard taking the LAST watermelon. I confronted her and she screamed at me that I was "no better than a nigger" because I wasn't born in TX and didn't belong here. (Sorry about the bad word... I don't use it, and writing it just made me cringe.) She then broke the watermelon by throwing it to the concrete and stomping it.
Their dog barked all day long and most of the night.
They liked to lay around the house all day drinking, and whenever I left to go to college, or to work they always had a few choice words for me that I tried to ignore.
One evening I was cooking Kimchee in my kitchen, and I do admit it stunk up my whole place and probably theirs too. They called a cop who showed up on my porch pounding on my door. He asked me what kinda drugs I was making in my house. I told him I was just cooking kimchee. He said it was horrible, and now he understood why the neighbors were always calling him about me. I was surprised and told him the neighbors never complained to me, they just stole from me and cussed at me a lot.
Then I invited him inside and told him I wanted to show him something. I took him back to my closet and pulled the duct tape off of the knot hole in the back of my closet and showed him the pot grow they had in their closet. I lied to the cop and said I only just found out. The truth was I'm a "live and let live" kinda guy and I knew for a couple years, but those neighbors pushed me over the edge.