Tag Archives: police

Ignored (But Not Surprised)

I’m back! To finish the horribleness I experienced with the Officers and my neighbor. You know, the one with the fence that looks stupid.

My backyard and the neighbors ugly as sin fence.

Luckily for my neighbor, his relentless pounding on my front door at 7:00 A.M. last Good Friday did not wake my Mother.

When she did wake up I told her what happened and we talked for a long time about the nerve of him and how he wasn’t getting on our property today and we decided that I would compose a Hold Harmless agreement for my neighbor and his workers to sign when they would inevitably come back to call on the fence request.


After all that he’d certainly come back, and when he did I wanted to be ready.

So I drafted the document, revised it 17-77 times and finally printed copies of it the Tuesday after Easter.

I wanted to be ready.

I know exactly where that document is right now in my legal drawer.

But he never came back again.

Until Wednesday.

When I had to call the police.

Because he had workers trespassing in our back yard again.

I loathe the phrase, “it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” (And I’m pretty sure that’s my neighbor’s motto in life. Just like it’s the motto of a lot of other men I’ve come across like him in my life.) Why do you think I hate it so much?

Time out. You know, my being drugged and raped by a boyfriend aside.

Time in. I have entitlement issues for sure. But I have some excellent reasons for my irritation surrounding entitlement. (The memoir I’m writing is full of examples of how I was harassed by entitlement.)

Back to Wednesday, I already mentioned what happened but let me be clearer about the chain of events.

Around 8:45 A.M. I was with my Mom in the kitchen before she left for work and I saw a man in my backyard shoving wooden braces into my lawn in an attempt to prop up my neighbor’s fence. I pointed it out to my Mother and went outside to confront the situation.

“Excuse me, Sir,” I yelled as loudly as possible. At first he did nothing, but then he turned around. “You don’t have our permission to do that and you have to stop immediately,” I told him. He replied that he didn’t speak English very well and as I mentioned in my last post shoved a phone in my face. I told the woman on the phone, whoever she was, that he had to leave and they (because a second man entered my property as I was speaking with her) couldn’t be there under any circumstances. She rudely snapped, “I heard you! God!” The man took the phone back and they left my property, but they also left the wooden braces propping up the fence behind. And I knew they would be back because of that.

And I was right.

They entered my property two more times that I am aware of after I had been told I was understood by that nasty person on the phone.

I wanted to sneak in something happy here, so this was the breakfast the boyfriend I’m disgustingly in love with had sent over for me one morning this past week. It was beyond yum. He’s the best. But he’s taken.

The first time I heard them come back because I had cracked open my back door to snoop for the crunching of leaves.

They returned not only to take the wedged pieces but they also started stealing, yes, stealing good strong wood on my property along the fence line. Theft on top of trespassing. This was around approximately 9:30 A.M. — so — my Mom was at work by then.

I hate not having witnesses.

And I hate to say this even more: I hate not having male witnesses.


If only the Officers hadn’t buddied up with my neighbor so quickly, maybe they would have heard me.

But it’s so difficult to be heard sometimes. Even though you’re very logically and reasonably explaining your safety concerns and how this has happened before and how all your neighbor had to do was sign a paper I spent hours revising just for him. Even though.

Because if I’m a man then me and other men (the Officers) speak the same language of understanding — that stealing, and trespassing, and my concern for liability are all legit.

But because I’m a woman — I’m just hysterical and can’t possibly understand the simple thing that my neighbor is “just doing.”

But I was assaulted. And I mean that literally.

Privacy is a funny thing. I have to assume that everything I’m about to share was intended for me to share since I took the pictures on my property and through a hole in their beast fence.

Their backyard
More backyard
Even more boring backyard

🚔 🚔 Two cars and two male white Officers would eventually show up at my house, take down my driver’s license information, and become degrading sexist friends with my neighbor who they spoke to for mere seconds, which was all that was needed to dismiss everything I was saying, and, whose license they didn’t need even though he drove to my house, and even though I was just standing in my driveway.

Oh wow! Those look suspicious like told that might have been used in the assault.

My asshole neighbor can’t even pretend he wasn’t on my property or that he didn’t tell them to do what they did.

We even have a fence up that they just climbed over to get what they wanted.
These are the logs that the workers started stealing on their way off my property the second time.

All day I endured the sound of their work, watching. If my neighbor had just come over to me he could have signed this Hold Harmless agreement I wrote and this wouldn’t even be a post.

But he either wasn’t home or just didn’t care.

So the last time they would come over I asked them to leave and they ignored me, at my neighbor’s direction. This was after 4:00 P.M.

I was done.

I called my town’s non-emergency police number and began to file my complaint.

I was asked to describe how the trespassers — who were now being called back over now that my neighbor has heard me yell that last time, “get out or I’m calling the police!” — looked — as in what they were wearing, their skin color, hair color, height, etc. — which took an immense amount of time. As the dispatcher struggled to find my address — the call took approximately 10 minutes and by then the neighbor was trying to call me over to him from behind his fence. I paid him no attention whatsoever, except to look a bit in his exact direction to let him know I was going to do what I was doing no matter what he wanted, the entitled prick.

Besides, the operator told me not to interact with anyone I mentioned, including the neighbor, whatsoever.

Once the operator got my address down correctly (FINALLY), two police vehicles showed up in front of my house where I was waiting for them.

That brick will fix everything 🙄

So one Officer began to get my statement. He listened to me for a few seconds before the second Officer beckoned him to the end of my driveway where my neighbor had driven over to be even more entitled than he had already been that day.

Since this is exactly what went down next, I’ll repeat: And after this same neighbor motioned them to him — to which they really complied — he spoke no more than 20 words to them — causing the Officers to react orally like this: “Yeah, I got you man, I’ll explain it to her,” and, “We’ll tell her.”

I literally rolled my eyes because I knew how this story was going to end and I was right.

It ended with the Officers attempting to explain property lines and fences to me.

And when I tried to speak up for myself, I was talked over and interrupted. As I refused to concede that nothing wrong had been done that day, the Officers just contributed to change topics and ignored what I had to say about the stealing, the trespassing, how this wasn’t even the first time he’s done this (last Good Friday), and that I am a trained lawyer in real estate and have legitimate concerns about liability.

Their final dismissal was, “well [your neighbor] said they don’t speak English very well so I don’t think they were understanding when you asked them to leave.”

“Then why was I on the phone with a woman who was going to take care of it?!” I wanted to scream. But I could tell with the workers done with the work (say least they better be) and the neighbor now best friends with the Officers, it would be pointless to continue to try plead my case.

They were not listening.

As I said they asked to see my driver’s license, and annoyingly they took down my name and phone number, as if they weren’t going to throw what they’d written on it out.

The Officers said, “well drive over there and we’ll talk to him.” But I have no idea if they actually did, or what would have been said, or why I even bothered calling for help since I couldn’t get any or see any results.

If there is one thing that’s clear: a fence definitely exists.

Fight(ing) Words

Yesterday I had to call the police on my neighbor.

I’m not some crazy chick who doesn’t understand the law.

I’m a retired Attorney.

I deserve respect.

We all do.

But, instead, you might have guessed it, I was mansplained at — by the Officers.

Last year, on Good Friday, a holy holiday my Mom and I observe, at 7:00 in the morning, I hear this pounding on my front door. I was already awake but unless I’m expecting someone I don’t typically open my front door to anyone. I thought, they’ll pound once, then leave us alone. Wrong.

This entity kept pounding and pounding and pounding. He was a relentless pounder, and I became a very angry recipient of that not fun pounding on my door.

Time out. I’ve mentioned I have Fibromyalgia, but I don’t remember if I told y’all what mornings look like for me. It’s agonizing to get moving, if my body will let me at all. Think about a play-dough doll that is scrunched up but not yet hard that you really need to return to its original look, and that’s kind of what I look like. My feet and hands are the worst. To get my feet going is problematic at best. Yes. Every single morning.

Points for anyone who can locate the Lions symbol on my socks. Go Lions!

Time in. So with my feet fighting me I get them into shoes and go downstairs to see what the emergency is. Because it better be a GD emergency for someone to be relentlessly pounding on our door at 7:00 A.M. on Good Friday.

When I open the door I’m not pleasant, and I don’t regret that at all. Being obnoxious earns and warrants a tough attitude in reply.

There are two men standing there. My neighbor dressed in a jumpsuit, and a worker he had clearly hired to do what he thought he could do on this day, which was trespass.

Oh, and don’t forget that COVID was still very much a problem around that time last year. And I was about to encounter an agressive man and a gentle one, neither of which gave me the coutesy of wearing masks. Like, however you feel about the mask thing, if you’re going to be obnoxious and ask something of your neighbor at 7:00 A.M. on a holiday they might observe, maybe err on the side of — maybe the people you’re about to bother would prefer you — a stranger — in a mask.

Y’all have to understand. Once you get through law school and you learn about torts and real estate law, you can’t unlearn or unknow it. It’s there on your mind forever. And I was already riled up for other reasons on top of what was about to be my legal interface.

This book will scare you and haunt you for all your remaining days once read.

“Hi!” my neighbor greeted me cheerfully.

“What’s the emergency?” I reply. “Because there must be something incredibly dire going on for you to disturb my family at 7:00 in the morning on a very religious holy holiday which we happen to observe, by the way. And, my Mom — the best hardest working woman in the world — has a rare day off — which means she gets a little extra sleep — and what you just did is absolutely one of the rudest things you could do. I swear to God if you woke up my Mother — I just can’t imagine what you need at this time of the morning so desperately. Enlighten me.”

Hey. I warned you I wasn’t pleasant.

“Well — right. That’s exactly why I’m here today. I know it’s a holiday which is why I’m trying to get this done today. You know the fence between our yards?”

It’s impossible not to know the fence between our yards.

I say nothing.

The double high fence the neighbors put up because we obviously give a damn about them and would be watching them allllllllll the time if they hadn’t because we have no lives of our own to live. I wonder if it’s permitted.

He continues, “well since I have the day off I thought it would be the perfect time to fix it since it’s leaning. Have you noticed the leaning?”

It’s impossible not to notice the leaning.


I say nothing.

“So he’s here to just go in your back yard and see what he needs to do on your side of the fence so it doesn’t lean anymore, and I’m going to have it fixed today since it’s a holiday,” he concluded, motioning toward the worker who looked embarrassed about what was happening.

“No,” I say. “That will not be happening. And not just because I’m absolutely disgusted by how early you interrupted my home. First, as I already told you, this is a very holy holiday that we observe, so fence nosies and working with wood and whatever else would not be appropriate on a day when we pray because our Christ was nailed to a wooden cross and died. And second, the owner of this home would have to give her consent. The owner being my Mother. And I’m telling you right now — I’m not waking her up to ask — but I can guarantee her answer. It would be ‘NO.’ And third, I’d tell her to say ‘no’ to you because of the liability issue. So no. Not without me writing up a legal document indemnifing us of any liability, accident, problem, injury, whatever you can think of really — that you and your workers will have to sign before coming onto our property again. Technically you’re trespassing right now — and I do not give you a license to be here.” (License means something like “permission to be on my land” in the way I meant it, not like a driver’s license).

“Okay, so I’m just going to have him take a look back there to see what needs to be done. And can you ask your Mom to let me know if we can proceed?” this man says to me.


“It’s not happening. And no he can’t go look. You do not have permission to be on our property.” I reply, as calmly as I can.

What’s with people?! And I’m sorry to point fingers, but it’s usually men who talk to me like they didn’t hear what I just said, or they did, but they think they can — like — trick me into changing my mind — or even just do what they want despite what I’m saying because that’s what they want.

I’m overwhelmingly dismissed in situations like this — with men.

I want to be really really REALLY clear that I’m not saying this pertains to all men. I’m saying that when a dispute arises between me and a man like the one I’m describing now — I’m overwhelmingly looked over as a totally irrelevant component to what is going on.

My neighbor tried to do it to me that day — and the Officers did it to me yesterday.

And the Officers did it yesterday after this same neighbor had the nerve to drive to the front of my house, park behind the Officers’ vehicles — motion them to him — to which they complied — and spoke no more than 20 words to them — causing the Officers to react orally like this: “Yeah, I got you man, I’ll explain it to her,” and, “We’ll tell her.”

So back to last Good Friday.

“He just needs to take a look to see what he needs. It’ll be really quick,” my neighbor unbelievably says to me.

“Are you not hearing me? I can come closer, though I’d rather not. It’s not a matter of the amount of time he’ll be there,” I say, super uncomfortably speaking about a man who is present in front of me, “no means no. You do not have the owner’s permission, and it’s not happening.” I retort, beyond livid at this point.

“Okay, well I really want to get it done today. So can you ask your Mom when she wakes up? Perhaps no later than noon?” my neighbor asks.

“Look, I’ll take your phone number, and if she wants to call you, she will. No promises. And noon is when we begin silent prayer for three hours. So don’t expect to be doing work until after 3:00 P.M. if at all.” After this reply, I go inside get a pen and notepad of paper, bring it outside, and as I look at him indicating it was time for him to give me his name and phone number, he grabs the pen and notepad and writes it down himself.


Aggressive much?

I later threw the pen out and sprayed the notepad with Lysol, you know, because COVID.

It was a pen like this which came in a box of 100. I REALLY hate waste though.

My neighbor hands me back the items and I notice that during the course of the exchange between us, the worker who my neighbor had — full of certain hope — brought along had been backing away from my neighbor bit by bit. I liked this man. He had even smiled when I explained about the wooden cross.

“Okay. I’ll tell my Mother everything,” I say.

“Great. Just make sure she calls me as soon as she wakes up,” my neighbor says.

“This is not a good time to knock on anyone’s door unless they’re expecting you, for future notice. Please do not do it again,” I emphasize the “do not.”

“Sorry,” he says, not at all concerned about what I just said.

“Okay, please leave now.”

“As soon as he just quickly checks out the fence.”

“Do not dare go further onto this property right now. I was so incredibly clear that he cannot do that, you cannot do that, and it’s time to leave.”

Later, I would even created a Hold Harmless agreement for when we anticipated he’d come back — but more on that and my Mom’s reaction later.

My neighbor says nothing, and finally walks away. I watch him and his companion get into his car, and I close the door, beyond irate with this privilege this asshole believes he has.

Not 2 minutes later, as I’m scrubbing my hands, do I see the worker checking out the fence in my yard.

Right behind the treehouse my Father built which is flush with flowers and greenery in the spring and summer and even fall, I saw him.

I ran outside to find my neighbor the furthest down the driveway he could get — not wanting to risk dirtying his shoes on what could be mud I’m betting.

“Excuse me!” I yell. “Seriously, get off our property right now! I told you no! Are you kidding me right now?!”

“Okay, okay, we were just looking” my neighbor says to me as if he hadn’t done a thing wrong.

I look at him with the wrath of 10,000 suns colliding into him. He beckons the worker, and they slowly walk to his car. I follow them the whole way. Because this time, in utter disbelief at the nerve of this asshole, I make sure he drives the fuck away before going inside.

So, yesterday morning when I noticed a different man on our property, I went outside and told him he couldn’t be there. He said he couldn’t speak English well and shoved a phone toward my face. I told the person on the phone that he could not be on my property under any circumstance. I told her that no one was permitted to be on our land at all and he needed to leave. She rudely told me she understood.

The fence

But I knew it wasn’t over. So I went to my computer, opened the door so I could listen for the suspicious crunching of leaves, and went to work. So when the crunching came, I was not surprised.

Our property which they very much invaded.

And yesterday, while the mansplaining Officers tried to explain how fences work because I guess they thought that was the issue I needed educating about target than listening to why I called them in the first place — (I was a Real Estate Sorry for 6 years — and I bet everything I have that I know more about fences than them) — I wasn’t listened to my trying to explain to them my concerns regarding trespassing and liability. I’m so disgusted by what happened.