Oh jesus, my crazy neighbor stories...
I lived next to a murderer in NYC. He was the nicest person. He bought ice cream by the pound.
During my college years in Chicago I lived in the Puerto Rican ghetto, directly in the building of one of the gangs. Which was a smart move because they really look out for their renters. Once I got up in the middle of the night, we're talking 2 a.m., and walked to get something to drink from my fridge. I opened it up, pulled out a sprite and was pouring it into a glass when this enormous black-and-white spider fell in front of my face. I screamed, the glass dropped and shattered, and
within two seconds seven Puerto Rican guys were in my apartment with their guns in the air. I screamed again, they screamed, after we figured out what happened (really, after they put their guns away) we all had a good laugh
I once had a neighbor in the Bronx who accused me of writing down all of his secrets in walnut shells and giving them to the squirrels. Who were apparently were selling them to the FBI, why squirrels would want money I don't know. That's actually the strangest part of the story if you stop to think about it. He ended up dying after falling fourteen floors while trying to glue a mirror outside of his window.
I used to have neighbors at my current residence who lived above me. They had the best sex life of any couple I have ever known, including those I've never inquired about-- how, do you ask? Because I can't fathom anyone making the kinds of noises they did, and for hours on end. She told me later that the secret was "the curve to his penis". I brought up the subject only because after two years I finally stormed up there one night to ask them to down it down or buy a goddamn gagball. and, really, I have to openly admire people so dedicated (and talented) to sex. Apparently she was some sort of yoga instructor (who knew that **** really worked?) and he was just some sort of pervy freak.