Almost a year ago now, just after Thanksgiving, the meth head across the street from us got kicked out of his house and the property was put up for sale, cheap. It was quickly sold, cleaned, painted, etc., though after being a nosy neighbor and checking it out at the first open house they had, I was saddened to find that the work done was like putting wet-n-wild lipstick on a pig. The initial asking price was an attempt to cash in on the then-booming housing market, but I knew it wouldn’t sell for anything near what the new owners were hoping.
Cut to a week ago (and about six months after it initially went on the market after the so-called renovation and more than a few price drops) as a friend was driving me home, and just as we went past the house, I started to say, “And here’s the drug house that will never–” only to stop myself midsentence due to the new “sale pending” sticker on the sale sign.
And now, now I have a new neighbor. And while I haven’t met him (them?) yet, the first impressions aren’t good. There are no less than four vehicles parked outside the house now, one of which is filled with trash (and not moving trash, just boxes filled with paper and other detritus) and another of which has a smashed in front end (and is also full to the brim with stuff. There’s junk in the backyard — again, not “moving in”-type junk, just junk junk that hasn’t moved in over a week. The other night at about 11:00, somebody drove up and started yelling for the guy in the house to come out so they could go somewhere, and I’m pretty sure the doorbell works.
I’m really hoping to be proven wrong and that the trash and some of the vehicles and the like will be cleaned up once the move is more finalized, in which case I’ll hang my head in judgmental shame, but for now I’m feeling cautiously pessimistic. Though it’s probably better that it’s occupied rather than just sitting vacant as it has been for so long. Something about an empty house is just so sad.