I DON'T TRUST MY NEW NEIGHBOR (PART 1)

WRITTEN BY TATE CANYON

So, it was February 2021, right in the middle of pandemic chaos messing up my studies. Fed up with that scene, I thought, "Why not dip to Los Angeles and give this art thing a shot?" Pulling into the complex with my U-haul, I barely had time to blink before meeting my first neighbor. Picture this: an old Jewish dude with a seriously wild swag. He's rocking chunky rings, a bunch of gold chains with all sorts of random pendants, and hats that you wouldn't catch anyone else wearing, like a fedora, a mariachi hat, you name it. This guy had a look for every occasion—army man, chief of police, Hawaiian mobster, you get the drift. And let's not forget his pièce de résistance—a pink-beard. Oh, and his Husky? Yeah, it had ears dyed in the same shade of pink and answered to the name "Dr. Starr." I get it, it sounds like a wild story, but stick with me. Too many witnesses, too many police reports—There’s no fucking way I can be making this shit up. As I got to talking with “Dr.Starr”, it hit me. Maybe he's not putting on a show; these outfits might be his real deal, or even worse a disguise. Either way, within seconds, I knew this mother-fucker was gonna be the reason we'd be packing up sooner than later.

Fast forward a week, and I've crossed paths with my second neighbor. She's around 35, Latina, with a seriously fucked up plastic surgery job, giant ass, and conveniently living right next to my bedroom. Around 8 am every morning in the new crib I started to realize that I may be getting violated every time I wake up. By that, I mean I think my neighbor was getting piped at that top of the morning, every morning. You’d hear her cheeks smaccccking and then a weird-ass moan. Like a weird-ass moan. I asked Sarah to come peep and she told me she could hear from her room on the opposite side of the crib. We had mentioned this to our landlord, Brian, and he gave no fucks.

As the months pass, and we start inviting friends over to our new place, Dr. Starr takes center stage, always ready to welcome any houseguests. For the ladies, it's an offer of drugs, a "fun time," a shot at being in a movie, an orgy with his fiancée, or an invitation to listen to "cocaine radio" (whatever the fuck that is). White males get the special treatment – first and always, a Jewish inquiry, asking if they are Jewish, and then the same barrage of wild propositions: partying, a suspicious job offer, a quest to "find some hotties," or even joining him in his favorite pastime, "murdering natzis." Curiosity piqued, I ask Brian about Dr. Starr, and his eyes widen. In a quick, firm tone, he drops the bomb – "Oh, he's a problem. We've been trying to get rid of him, but there's no way. Be careful." And then, he just walks off. Needless to say, I'm officially on edge around this mother-fucker.

I swear he was getting us to do the dumbest shit for no reason. One of those things was to move my car in a specific parking spot and one day this Latina neighbor was not fuckin having it. I was just about to leave the crib to go do some laundry and on my second trip back to the car and she cornered me in the hallway SCREAMING at me that I parked in her spot, that I was a bitch-ass kid that was entitled to do whatever he wanted when that surely wasn’t the case because Brian’s bitch-ass was the bum who told me to do that in the first place. I was tryna tell this silly bitch that I was on my way out anyway and that she was screaming over absolutely nothing but she was really tryna catch all the smoke, so I did the responsible thing and just closed my door on the dumb-cunt. But before I could even turn my back on her she had football quarterback kool-aid man SLAMED my door tryna knock it down and catch hands. I had tried to push the door shut but she was really tryna get into the crib and have a physical altercation. So I played this out in my head. I could either A. Go past her and attempt catching hands with a woman... OUTSIDE. B. Try and get this mf door shut and help us both here.. Or our last option which is the most fatal.. C. Me letting her bust through the door, lock it, and now it’s me on one side of the hallway, Sarah on the other, and this silly bitch in the middle who, put in mind, BROKE INTO THE CRIB.

So if I didn’t let her ass in, we would have FASSSHOOO HAD A FIELD DAY ON HER ASS. Damn near. Luckily, I was able to shut the door. But before I could even explain to Sarah what the fuck just happened, “Dr.Starr” saw the altercation that just took place and put two and two together. Who do I defend here in this fight that doesn’t include me at fucking all? Tate, the kid who cock-blocks me every fuckin’ day? Or the Latina chick with the giant ass? It doesn’t take a genius to tell you who he chose. So mf starts waiving around a gun to show dominance and they went to my whip and busted the whole driver’s side up. We’re freaking the fuck out, call 911 and they did absolutely nothing. Couldn’t acquire the security cameras, didn’t arrest anybody for none of the bullshit going on or anything. They basically told us to fuck off.

A month goes by and it doesn’t feel right with “Dr. Starr” how things went down. Picking “Hoes before bros” when that fight went down. So he made it right by being extra fucking annoying trying to be our best fucking friend.

To be continued..