My Hawaii Neighbor Does Not Much Like Troublemakers

My Hawaii neighbor did not like the people we bought our vacation house from. He probably doesn’t much like me, either. A couple of years ago, when I did the home inspection, I took my own advice that I give home buyers in Sacramento, and I went next door to talk to the neighbors before buying. He seemed a bit irritated and unwelcoming. He informed me that even though he should be retired, he is forced to work for a living. Like it’s my fault. And let’s just say he made it clear that he does not like the tourists on Ali’i Drive who mess up his driving time to work.

If he didn’t have to go to work, he’d be yelling at the birds for landing on his lawn.

He said our sellers were noisy people. Then he admitted that he himself is rather noisy when his grandkids from Waimea visit, but it’s OK when he does it, along with throwing in that he would like to sell his house and move to Waimea. That would not be a bad idea. I’m wondering how I can get an agent in Hawaii, hello Hella, to call this guy and find him a house.

Shortly after I moved in to the house last December, my Hawaii neighbor came over to say he can hear my phone conversations. I had given him my card, so I don’t know why he doesn’t understand that I sell Sacramento real estate. Being a Sacramento Realtor means I am on the phone a lot. I sell real estate in Sacramento from our house in Hawaii. I’ve listed, sold and closed transactions from our ocean view lanai. I have since turned off my speaker function as a courtesy when talking outdoors, though.

I don’t know how to tell my Hawaii neighbor that I can hear everything that goes on in their bathroom. They probably keep the window open as an exhaust. Let’s just say there are some things nobody should ever have to listen to: the hacking, spitting, coughing and grunting. It’s a bit disgusting, but do I complain? Well, I would if I knew how to describe it in kinder words. But I feel that I need to be really descriptive, and that’s where I back down on the courage.

The night I got delivery of my new sound bar for the TV, my Hawaii neighbor appeared on my doorstep at 9 PM. I had about 10 minutes left of Girl Boss, a canceled show btw. Loud punk rock, lots of swearing, I’m sure he enjoyed it. He lodged his complaint. Your TV is too loud. I apologized. Honestly, I’m half deaf from rock-and-roll so I did not realize it was that loud. I offered to close all the doors and windows. No, he wanted to argue about the options to suit his satisfaction; he couldn’t just hand me the complaint and vanish. He freaked me out showing up like that.

By morning, I was already thinking about how I could turn him in to the HOA for violating the by-laws by having more than 2 pets. Or maybe I could call my sister on speaker phone to discuss in detail how dreadful he had been. I could spray Round Up in the wrong direction. Those were awful, terrible ideas. Instead, I got into my jeep, drove up the road to Lowes and bought him a pretty plant. To which I attached a note of apology. I opened his garden gate and, without making a sound, set the plant on his sidewalk. I’m not rude enough to walk up to his front door without calling. Well, I am, but still.

You don’t have to be best friends with your neighbors but you do need to get along. We all need each other in this world in our own weird ways. You’re not an island, even if one temporarily lives on an island.