Nightmare Karen Neighbor Messes Around & Finds Out! r/UhOhConsequences

Nightmare Karen Neighbor Messes Around & Finds Out! r/UhOhConsequences

Welcome to today's Ripestories Podcast! My Name is Ripe and I am bringing you the best Reddit Stories and commentary! We have funny reddit stories from r/ProRevenge, r/MaliciousCompliance and HOA KAREN stories about homeowner associations in America! We also read subreddits such as rslash justnohoa and stories about insane funny entitled Karens! We also have the best top rated Reddit Stories to fall asleep to. Our funny Reddit videos are perfect to sleep to!

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Speaker 1: Hey guys, welcome back to more Nightmare Karen neighbor stories

from r slash oh no consequences. In today's ripe stories video,

have you ever met someone so entitled they honestly believe

public laws do not apply to them? Our new neighbor

spent months tormenting us over a four foot strip of land,

convinced that she could bully us off the block. Here

is how we dealt with her. Let's dive right into

the video. This story is from r slash uh-oh consequences

and is titled Nightmare Karen neighbor messes around and finds

out after tormenting me for months. So to get some

background in first, my wife and I bought our first

house a while back. Three bedrooms and a one-car garage,

a driveway that runs right alongside the neighbor's driveway with

a little strip of grass between them. The strip of

grass was maybe like four feet wide, so that strip

is basically the main character of the story. The day

we moved in, the lady next door came over while

I was carrying a mattress up the front steps. didn't

offer to help, didn't say welcome, just stood at the

bottom of the steps with her arms crossed and said,

just so you know, the grass between the driveways is mine.

The old owners knew that. I said, okay, cool, nice

to meet you too, because I was holding a mattress

and didn't have much else to give her. We're just

going to call her Karen because of course we are,

and for the first couple of weeks it was just

little stuff. Our trash cans would get rolled from our

side of the driveway to the very edge of the

street and sometimes even into the street. We figured it

was the wind, but then one morning I watched her

do it from the kitchen window, just marched over in

a bathrobe, grabbed our can by the handle, and dragged

it like eight feet over like she was walking a

dog she hated. I went out and asked her what

the deal was with that, and she said, Your cans

were on my grass. They were on my driveway. The

wheels were on my grass. Um, the wheels were on

the concrete. Well, the shadow of the wheels was on

my grass. Then came the notes, not letters, just sticky

notes on our front door, written in markers, all caps,

stuff like, Park in your own lane. And your dog

is looking at my yard. And my favorite, I know

what you did. Isn't that from some kind of horror movie? Anyway,

we didn't know what we did. I want to be

clear about something. We really tried. We really did. My

wife baked her something the first month. Karen took the plate, said,

I don't eat other people's food, and closed the door

with the plate still in her hand. We never got

the plate back. And by the way, that was our

nicest plate. After that, it got even weirder, though. She

started putting stakes in the strip of grass with orange

string between them, like a crime scene, right down the

middle of the strip. Not on the property line, just

wherever she felt like it that day. Some days, the

string was closer to us. Some days, it was basically

in her driveway. It also moved around like it was alive.

But then came the sprinkler stuff. It started, she had

one of those oscillating sprinklers and she would set it

right at the edge of her driveway so that it

accidentally swept across our driveway every time it went around.

If I was out there loading my truck for work,

I basically got soaked. If my wife was getting groceries

out of the car, she got soaked too. One time

my wife just stood there holding a bag of groceries,

getting hit in the face with water, and yelled, really?

Over the fence, and Karen yelled back from her porch,

it's a free country, water goes where it wants. The

part that actually started to wear on us, though, was

the calls. She called the city on us for our

fence height, which was fine. She called about our grass

being too long, which it wasn't. She called about our

trash cans being visible from the street on a non-trash day,

which they weren't, they were in the garage. And each

time some kind of poor guy from the city would

come out, look around for two minutes and say, yeah,

you're fine. And then glance at her house and say

something like, she calls a lot, huh? She also called

the police on us three times that I know of.

Once because I supposedly threatened her, which was me saying,

have a good one while getting in my truck. Once,

because my dog was supposedly aggressive, and my dog is

a 30-pound mutt who's scared of the vacuum, and once

because she said she heard me plodding in my garage.

I was on the phone with my brother, talking about

fantasy football. Every single time, though, the officers were really

nice about it. One of them actually said to me, Sir,

we know, just keep doing what you're doing, and keep

your cameras on. Which brings me to the cameras. So

about two months into this, we installed some cameras. Front door, garage,

one pointing down the driveway, and let me tell you,

best money I've ever spent. Not just because of what

happened later, but because watching Karen realize she wasn't camera

was like watching a raccoon get caught in a flashlight beam.

She would walk over to move our trash cans, then freeze,

look up at the camera, and then slowly back away,

like it couldn't see her if she moved slow enough.

She did not like the cameras, let me tell you.

She put up a sign in her yard that faced

our house that said... No filming! I got tired of

the moving string and the my grass thing, so I

did what any reasonable adult does. I paid for a survey.

A real licensed surveyor, the whole thing, you know. I

did not even tell her, I just wanted to know

where the actual line was so I could stop arguing

about shadows. The surveyor shows up, does his thing, hammers

in his little pins with the pink flags, and Karen

is watching the entire time from her window. I can

see the blinds moving. When he leaves, I go look

at the pins and I start laughing so hard. My

wife comes outside to see if I'm having a stroke

or something. The property line was not in the middle

of the grass strip. It was not on our side

of the grass strip. The property line was about two

feet into her driveway. Yes, you heard that right. The

entire strip of grass was ours. So was a chunk

of the concrete she'd actually been parking on for years.

She had been dragging my trash cans off of my

own land onto more of my own land. My wife

actually looked at the pins, looked at me and said,

don't go over there right now. You got the face. Well,

I didn't go over there. I didn't have to. About

20 minutes later, Karen came out, saw the pink flags

and pulled every single one of them out of the ground.

Then she threw them in our yard. Then she looked

right at the camera and gave it the finger with

both hands. I called the surveyor and he said pulling

survey markers is actually a crime in our state and

he would come back out and reset them and give

me a written report. The report came a few days later,

very official and clear, everything I said above in writing

with drawings and I made a copy and left it

in her mailbox with a very short note. I was

actually polite about it. I said the grass is mine,

please stop moving my things and please keep your sprinkler

on your own property. I did not mention that I

now technically own two feet of her driveway. I was

saving that and she didn't take it well. So then

that night at like 11, she stood on her porch

and screamed at our house. Not at us, at the house.

We were inside with the lights off watching a movie

and she was yelling stuff like, you paid him off.

And I've lived here 20 years. And that's not how

surveys work. My wife paused the movie and said, how

does she think that surveys work? And I honestly had

no answer for her. A couple days later, I came

home from work and found a strip of grass covered

in landscape rocks, big decorative white ones. She had dumped

like six bags of them on my grass and put

a little metal sign in the middle that said private.

I have no idea what the logic was here. I mean,

like if you put rocks on something, it becomes huge.

My wife said maybe she thought it was like planting

a flag on the moon. So I picked the rocks up,

all of them. and stacked them neatly on her side

of the line, right on the two feet of her

driveway that was actually mine. Then I went inside and waited,

and after the rock incident, it got quiet for about

two weeks, and honestly, that was scarier than the noise.

My wife kept saying, she's planning something. And she was right.

Here's the big day. It was a Saturday, warm out,

and we were having a few people over for a

birthday thing for my wife. Nothing too crazy, maybe 10

people in the backyard, some music at a normal volume,

and burgers on a grill. A couple of our friends

parked on the street in front of our house and

one even parked in our driveway. Karen then came out

around the time the burgers were going on and started

with the sprinkler. Except this time, she did not point

it at the driveway. She pointed it over the fence

into the backyard, onto the food, onto my wife's sister,

who was holding a baby. And the baby thought it

was hilarious, but my wife's sister didn't. I went around

front and told her to turn it off. She said,

it's my water. I can put it wherever. I said,

you're spraying a baby. She said, then move the baby.

At this point, my buddy comes around the corner behind me.

A big guy, very quiet, works as a mechanic. He

doesn't say anything. He just walks over to her spigot

on her house and turns it off. Then he walks

back to the party. Karen lost it. She started screaming

that he trespassed, that he assaulted her house, and that

we were all criminals. Then she went inside and we

heard her on the phone and we all knew what

that meant. Sure enough, 10 minutes later, two patrol cars

roll up and we've got maybe a dozen adults in

the backyard eating burgers and one baby in a duck onesie.

The officers come around the back. One of them just

kind of takes in the scene and says, So, um,

we got a call about a violent gathering. My wife

holding a plate of potato salad says, Would you like

a burger? He says, I'm on duty, ma'am. And then

after a second, what kind of burger? Anyway, they talk

to us. We show them the videos on my phone,

the sprinkler on the baby, the rocks, the flags, the

trash cans, the I know what you did note. And

one of the officers, an older guy, was shaking his

head the entire time. And he said, we've been out

here before, right? And I said, three times. And then

he said, sounds about right. Then they go next door

to talk to her. And now we couldn't see everything

from the backyard, but we could hear it. and my

driveway camera caught most of it, so I'm going to

give you the best reconstruction I can. The officers knock,

she comes out on the porch, and the first thing

she says is, did you arrest them? The officer says, ma'am,

we're not arresting anybody for having a birthday party. She says,

they have people parked on my street. And he says,

it's a public street. She says, that man touched my faucet.

He says, ma'am, you were spraying water on an infant.

And that's when the switch flipped. She started yelling that

they were on our side, that we had paid them

off too, and that the whole city was against her

because she was the only one who followed the rules.

She was waving her arms around and one of the

officers told her to step back and lower her voice.

And she said, I'm not doing anything wrong. This is

my porch. The older officer said, ma'am, you called us,

we came and now we are asking you to stop yelling.

She said, I will yell all I want. I pay

your salary. He said, you and everybody else on the street.

She went inside and slammed the door and the officers

came back to us and said, basically, look, we can

write her a citation for the water thing if you want.

And honestly, at that point, you should think about a

no contact order because this is only going in one direction.

And we said yes to the citations. They then went

back over to give it to her, and this is

the part where she really messed around and found out.

She opened the door, the officer hands her the citation,

she looks at it, rips it in half, and throws

the pieces at his chest. Then she says, get off

my property, and shoves him. Not a little tap, mind you,

a two-hand shove to the officer that sent him back

a step off the porch. I've got this on camera too.

My wife, who was standing next to me watching the

live feed on my phone, just went... Oh no, oh no.

The officer told her she was under arrest now. She said,

no I'm not, and tried to go back inside and

close the door on him, but he grabbed her arm,

she swung at him, she hit him in the side

of the face with an open hand, and the second

officer came up the steps and she kicked at him

and got him in the shin. Then she did the thing,

the thing that everybody does. She dropped straight to the

ground and went limp and started screaming, I did nothing wrong.

Over and over. And you're hurting me. Why, they were

basically just holding her arms so she would stop swinging.

Half the street was outside at this point, and they

got the cuffs on her. Took a while. She was

thrashing around. As they walked her to the car, though,

she was going off on everybody. She yelled at the

officers that they were corrupt. She yelled at us that

we stole her grass. She yelled at the lawn chair

couple that they were next, which I don't think meant anything,

but they still talk about it. And when they got

her to the car door, she planted her feet and

refused to get in and said, I'm not going anywhere

until I talk to your supervisor. And the old officer said, Ma'am,

I am the supervisor. And then she got in the car.

After they drove off, the second officer came back to

take statements from a few of us, and he had

a red mark on his cheek and was rubbing his chin.

My wife asked if he was okay, and he said,

I've been hit harder by my nephew, but dear, that's

going in the report. Then he asked if we would

be willing to share the camera footage, and I said, Sir.

I've never wanted to share anything more in my entire life.

And before he left, he said, for what it's worth,

everybody on the street gave the same story. Nobody said

a good word about her, not one person. So here's

how it shook out. She got charged with assault on

a police officer, two counts because she got both of them,

plus resisting arrest, plus something for destroying the survey markers

once the video of that got turned over too, and

the sprinkler stuff got folded into a harassment charge. There

was also the thing about the citation that but that

was small compared to everything else. She ended up taking

a plea, pled guilty to the assault charges and the resisting.

She got a few months in county, most of which

she actually served, plus a long probation, plus a court-ordered

no contact with us. Our lawyer, who we had talked

to once about the property line stuff and who ended

up doing about an hour of work in total, said

it was one of the easiest cases he had ever

been nearer, because the whole thing was on video, and

she assaulted the people whose job it was to write

the report. And when she got out, she came back

to the house for about two weeks, didn't say a

word to us, couldn't legally, and she put a for

sale sign in her yard. And here's the thing, the

sign was on the two feet of driveway that was

legally mine, but let me tell you, for once, I

did not mind. And the next one is a beautiful

story from r slash malicious compliance and is titled, your

unprofessional wigs are making me sick. So this story is

from my wife. My wife attends Banco on Tuesdays and

heard this from a nurse or a CNA or RNA,

not sure which acronyms, but she's a medical professional. We

will just call her Susie. Susie has a very positive

and upbeat personality with a wild sense of style. She

wears bright clothes and likes to wear wigs. And no,

She doesn't have cancer, but she's always rocking an awesome

wig that matches her outfit. My wife even sends pics

to me, aside from the social media stuff, of their night.

She wants to get wigs and let me know by

the way of these pics. So last Banco night, Susie

tells the girls about one of her patients that clearly

didn't like her. She always has a frumpy face when

looking at her and always has a problem. The patient

was getting basically continuous care and saw Susie regularly over

the past few weeks, so this attitude grated on her

over time, unfortunately. But this time, she crossed a line.

Upon her latest visit, she told Susie, Your unprofessional wigs

are making me sick. Stop wearing all these different crazy wigs. Instantly,

right then and there, Susie took off her wig, making

sure it clearly showed one of her reasons for wearing

wigs in the first place. and she had long clumps

of hair that gnarled out in all directions, showing bald

spots as well. For context, Susie has alopecia and lets

it grow out to help fasten the wigs at times,

what my wife was told, and it was quite the

sight to behold. Susie ended with, Is this professional enough

for you? Susie wishes she could have a picture of

the moment, but the way she described the lady's snarled

lip at the sight of her and in response to

the action was just classic. Deal. The patient never said

anything mean to her again and even made an attempt

at smiling the last time she saw her. And the

next one is a story from r slash malicious compliance

and is titled No, go ahead and fight me. A

martial arts expert ruined by an 11-year-old girl. So in

the sixth grade, I bore witness to a stunning example

of malicious compliance. So several grades of classes from our

elementary school were called to the gymnasium for some lessons

on self-defense. We were to be given some very rudimentary

examples of how we as children can fight off an

attacker if there are no other options. The instructor was

a man who had a long martial artist title and

was unbearably smug about it. Sure, he had made some

big accomplishments, I guess, but he would take every moment

available to deliver his lengthy champion title verbatim. Yeah, damned,

if I can remember what it was, it might have

been a willful effort on my part to erase it. Anyway,

he was instructing us on how to basically go belly

up like a distressed turtle and kick off an attacker.

We were not really understanding how this was feasible and

we were asking a lot of questions about it. He

got tired of the questions and called up a volunteer

to demonstrate the self-defense technique. He called upon Alice, a

girl in my class, and he didn't just tell her

how to get into position, however. He was putting his

hands on her and getting her to lie belly up

on the waxed gymnasium floor in a way that was

truly creepy and invasive even to children who might not

understand why. He gave her a long stare and made

some quiet remarks to her that we couldn't hear. but

the expression on her face basically said, yuck. I was

only 11 years old at the time, but I got

the gist of the situation and thought to myself, this

guy is gross. She had her legs up to kick,

was making kicking motions, but clearly swerving away from making

direct hits to this man. It was not enough for

him to just have the kids understand the technique. He

needed to demonstrate his martial arts prowess. He said to her, no,

go ahead and fight me. This works on an amateur,

but I'm a, insert his lengthy and proud title here,

He could not have known, but my entire class knew,

that Alice was a competitive swimmer. She had swimming skills

beyond her years and all the medals and awards to

prove it, complete with the muscular development of someone who

has spent years mastering their sport, particularly in her legs.

Alice then seized the opportunity to fight a man who

was already throwing up some problematic indicators of his own

predatory nature. She kicked him a few times, clipping a

shin or a thigh as he artfully dodged her full-on

attacks with a big grin on his face, and she

then triumphantly planted her sneaker directly to his crotch with

a force that made both her and this man red

in the face. He let out a strangled yelp before

crumpling to the ground. He dry heaved a few times, too.

He was in medical distress and some adults rushed to

get him help. To the children though, well, just, we

saw a guy get kicked in the balls by a

kid and that's comedy gold in elementary school. He was

helped out of the gymnasium amid the roaring, belly aching

laughter of 100 plus children And astoundingly enough to me

at least, Alice was facing punishment for what happened. Detention

was already assigned, suspension was up in the air. Thankfully though,

Alice's mom rose up with the fury of a thousand

women scorned after hearing Alice's testimony of the events. Alice

faced no more suspension. and to my knowledge did not

attend any after-school detention sessions. For the rest of the

school year, though, she was recognized as the ultimate badass

and reigning queen of justice by tests. And the next

one is from r slash malicious compliance as well, and

is titled, I should have read the lease? Well, you

should have read the law. So, reading another story here,

I was reminded of how I got out of an

apartment lease several years ago. So, it was coming up

on renewal time, and my landlord had just sent renewal

paperwork with a big rent increase. Knowing I could find

a cheaper place nearby, I sent in my written notice

to vacate, which was required 60 days before my move-out date,

and the landlord rejected my notice, and told me that

if I read the lease, I would know that notice

to vacate was required 60 days before the first day

of the month that I wanted to move out, not

60 days before the move-out day itself, and as a result,

they were going to force me to submit a new

notice the following month, and pay an extra month's rent

at the new higher rate. I was offended by their

attitude but accepted that they had won at least until

I checked the lease against the local rental law and

while they were right about the required date of my

notice to vacate they had failed to send me notice

of rent increase on time because I was supposed to

have a minimum of two weeks after receiving the notice

of rent increase to put in my notice to leave

at the end of my original lease term. I wrote

back to them with a screenshot of the relevant city

law and said, while you are correct about the due

date of my notice to vacate, you also failed to

send me timely notice of rent increase. You cannot require

me to send you notice to vacate at the end

of my lease term before knowing how much you will

be raising rent. How do you plan to remedy your

breach of the lease? Well, after what must have been

a tense call with their lawyer, my landlord agreed to

accept my original notice and let me move out on

the day I planned. Since I had already paid my

last month's rent, they never got another cent from me.

And yeah guys, thanks for watching, please don't forget to

like the video and I will see you again tomorrow.