A Neighborly Horror Show!

And a human’s ability to adapt

Photo by Ram Kishor on Unsplash

There are times in everybody’s life when they look back and regret how they handled certain situations. The human species’ ability to adapt turns out to be its saving grace.

My story

My wife and I had recently moved out of a small townhouse in Philadelphia to a larger single family dwelling in a leafy suburb, each house situated on more than an acre of land.

It was a totally different experience from living in a large municipality. The greenery surrounding us was home to all types of appealing critters we’d never see in the city. Any noise they would make was refreshing compared to the cacophony of horns honking, sirens blaring and people shouting at all hours in town.

The noiselessness of our sparsely populated enclave actually kept me up at night until I got used to it.

Yes, apparently that can happen.

The few neighbors we met were upper middle-class, professional and very friendly.

Although I still had my office in Philadelphia and commuted to work every day, I looked forward to coming home each night to my house in the peaceful suburbs.

About a year in, the trouble started with an odd sound that invaded my ears when I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep.

It wasn’t a steady sound but one that came in irregular bursts. The sound was sharp, percussive and distinctly electric. It took some investigation work on my part to discover what it was.

I pinpointed the direction from which the sound originated. I took a stroll to the northeast end of my property line to where I could get a clear view of my neighbor’s deck. Hanging from a decorative, six foot, wrought iron shepherd’s hook was a monstrous electric bug zapper.

During the day, few bugs are attracted to its barely visible ultra-violet light.

It’s at night when darkness allows the light to glow brightly. Bugs, mostly mosquitoes, fly into its electric field where they snap, crackle and pop with the noise like a loud electric pilot-light on a stove.

Well, now I discovered the nexus of the noise, I returned to my house to cogitate on whether I could live with it.

That night, I decided I couldn’t. It was more on my conscience than ever.

I gave it a couple of extra nights before I started to think of the words I’d say to Peg Hoffman or her husband John when I approached them with my objections to their newly acquired bug killer.

I came up with, what I thought was a tactful, appealing line of thinking that would be effective in working out some kind of solution to my problem with the zapper noise.

I decided the conversation should be handled over the phone rather than in person.

I was confident that my presentation would be effective.

Until it became unraveled.

Peg answered the phone and the conversation went like this:

“Hi Brian!” Peg answered in a friendly manner her caller ID showing the call was from me.

“ Hey Peg!” I said cheerily.

“To what do I owe the honor of this phone call?” Peg asked getting right to the nitty-gritty.

I wondered, did she suspect the reason for my call?

“Do you and John have a new appliance on your deck?” I asked with faux innocence.

“Why yes Brian, it kills bugs! Any reason for you asking?” already bracing for a request that will be unattractive to her.

“Does the noise it makes bother you?” I parried with genuine interest.

“No, not at all Brian,” Peg countered.

“Well, it bothers me at night.” I informed her.

“Could you please turn it off at night? I have trouble going to sleep with its constant electric snaps.” I asked feeling it was a reasonable neighborly request.

“But that’s the time we need it to be on!” Peg said, gloves now off.

“I can’t sleep, Peg!” I whined.

“I’m allergic to bees. If I get stung by a bee, I may die!” Peg exclaimed almost shouting.

“Do you want me to die?” she added, a trap.

Bees don’t come out at night, even I know that!

“Well Peg, I made my case, good-bye,” seeing no coorperation, I hung up the phone.

That night between the crackles of bugs being executed I had, what I considered, a brilliant idea.

Googling the cost of bug zappers, I got a few estimates and saw the model Peg and John had on their back deck was not wildly expensive.

I’d give ’em a call tomorrow.

This time I called John when he got home from work.

“John, as you know, I waged a complaint with Peg last night concerning your bug zapper,” I said in an upbeat way, no need to ruffle any more feathers.

“Yeh, she said you’d rather see her dead than have our new bug zapper on the back deck!” he said in a hostile tone.

“You’re a reasonable guy John, not that Peg is unreasonable,” I caught myself.

“I know you invested a good amount of money in that bug killer you have. Why don’t I just give you the money it cost and buy it from you so you won’t be out a penny?” I queried.

“You pretentious motherfucker!” John spat out before he cut the call.

Epilogue

I eventually got used to the bug zapper.

However, now when it WASN’T zapping mosquitoes and other flying insects, I was unable to sleep.