Hmm,
While Dh(then BF) and I were still in college, we lived in housing right off campus. The area we lived in was a mishmash of Victorian houses converted into apartments, single family homes, duplexes, and small apartment buildings. We lived in the bottom floor of a large Victorian.
Over the course of seven months there was:
The Fire: The single family house across the street from us caught on fire. We came to find out that they were not only selling pot that they grew in the basement (we already knew this) but also cooking meth (which we did not know).
The Shootout: I was at home asleep when I was woken up by squealing tires and crashing sounds. I go out on the front porch, and there are 4 cop cars surrounding a gun-weilding guy. I promply hit the floor and went back in, thank you very much. I called BF and informed him that I was moving and that he was welcome to come along if he wanted to, mostly due to...
The Dead Guy: BF was at work and I had gone out for some Taco Bell. On the way back into our house, you have to go through an alley. Well at the mouth of the alley that I had to turn into, there was an ambulance and a cop car. Oh, yeah, and a dead guy laid out of the sidewalk. A homeless guy had apparently frozen to death beside a dumpster in the alley and some student walking home had found him.
These three things combined to make us move.
Now, years later, we are living in a really rundown neighborhood. We had rented a house and it didn't seem too bad. But, the first day I was in the backyard with the dog and a really rough looking man came up and said he needed to talk to me. I told him that, no, he really didn't, and he needed to leave. He proceeds to open the gate and come into the yard. He is warned that I will release my dog if he doesn't leave. He comes at me and I release my dog.
Did I mention that my dog is an extremely protective lab/Shepard mix?
He had the guy on his back screaming like a wee little girl in seconds. The guy got away when I went inside to call the police. When they arrived they were more concerned about me showing proof that he had had his shots and had had some sort of training than they were about the crackhead who came into my yard.
We also had the rat lady next door, who was convinced that us feeding our dog was producing the rats under her house. No lady, if our dog can snatch crows out of the air and kill them when they try for his food, I'm sure that rats wouldn't stand a chance.
Ya know, reading this makes me really glad that we built our house on the edge of the city. Too many neighbors make the crazy. (then again, our current neighbor tried to fence off half of our yard and got mad when I protested, so maybe a nice yurt somewhere is the way to go.)
