Crazy Neighbor movies are some of my favorites. “Rear Window” and “The Burbs” are about murderers next door. I’ve never lived next to an axe murderer. Not that I know of, at least. Have you ever lived next to a crazy neighbor?

I have. More than one.

Our first real home. We moved in, and the neighbors introduced themselves. I don’t remember if “Jessica” brought over cookies, but it was a plate of something. She was very pleasant and pretty. Her husband was a nice guy too. We took vacations together. Then, contrary to my advice, my wife went into business with Jessica. The business augered in, and so did the friendship.

Soon “Billy” was parking his window-washing equipment in front of our house, parking his trailer on the front lawn, and leaving his toys and tools on the lawn, like we lived in Reseda. If you don’t know what “Reseda” is, it’s the armpit of the San Fernando Valley. My neighbor did it to vex me. He was doing it on purpose and with a smile. Eventually, it stopped — because we moved.

Our new neighbors were great until they weren’t. “Bob” decided to open his own business and gave up a high-paying job working for a huge chain store as a VP. He lost his money and lost the house, but not before he canceled garbage pick-up and filed for bankruptcy three times to avoid eviction. Trash bags started to pile up and smell. Their pool went from blue to green to a swamp. Eventually, they got booted, and the new neighbors moved in. They were pleasant — at first. Then they hired a contractor to build a shed that would have daylighted six feet over the fence. I asked the contractor if he got approval for the build, and he lied. I went to the owner and reminded him that a shed six feet over the fence wasn’t allowed by the city or the HOA. Somehow that was “my fault.” They haven’t said a word to me in two years. She treats me like I am the Invisible Man. No loss. It’s better than being yelled at like this:

Would you open the door? pic.twitter.com/2vNzpm5x9U

— Crazy Clips (@crazyclipsonly) June 27, 2023

She looks oddly familiar. Maybe it’s that haircut. Most famous Karens seem to have the same bob. I’ve never had a neighbor pound on a doorbell like a petulant child. I’ve never had a neighbor stand at my door, like a scorned stalker, demanding that she speak with the “adult” in the house. The irony is pretty rich.  What does this clearly agitated woman want? She wants the neighbor’s cat to stay off her property. Apparently, the cat has made it its mission to visit the undone neighbor’s property. While she’s demanding to speak with the terrified woman, the criminal cat can be seen sauntering behind her (shortly after the two-minute mark) and then disappears, likely to engage in more criminal trespass. It feels like a planned cameo. Irate Karen eventually leaves (never to see the tabby), threatening to have the cat arrested, or something.

Would I open the door to this woman? Yeah, because I don’t mind confrontation. My wife, on the other hand, doesn’t. Would you open the door?

I’m not a cat guy. I really, really don’t like cats. I don’t know how I would handle a cat invading my property, but I wouldn’t pound on the neighbor’s door. It might involve a hose or something. In any event, in my neighborhood, the coyotes would find the tabby, and he’d eventually be dinner or a midnight snack.

How is this neighbor dispute going to end? Will door-ringing Karen might engage in a Fatal Attraction move? Who knows. None of this will end well. The good news is at the end, Karen marches across the street. They aren’t “next door” neighbors.