It took some time getting used to him. And he's cost me thousands in electric repairs with his constant flickering.
I get it. I'm in his space. All his loved ones are dead. He can't move on. Yadda yadda yadda... doesn't mean you get to turn the T.V. off right before the game winning field goal.
But you know what they say. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Turns out ol' Cornelius wasn't a fan of some of the recent changes the HOA was making. Something about a new home being propped up on his family's graveyard.
Me, on the other hand, I just wanted to put in a basketball hoop and to let my friends park on the street overnight.
But that would be unsightly.
I'm a good neighbor. I keep to myself, mow my lawn, and, most importantly to them, I pay my dues.
But the HOA is a group of the belief that to have fun is to sin. Seriously, those guys make a monastery look like a rave in the early 1990s.
No loud music outdoors after dark. No more than 3 cars parked in front of your house at all times. No above ground pools. Kids couldn't even ride bikes past dusk without getting a lovely call and reminder from my neighbor, Tabitha, the head of the HOA.
So, when I got an email the other day that my Saturday BBQ (that ended at 7 p.m. per HOA rules) was "too loud" and "unbecoming" of our neighborhood, I reached my breaking point.
And then a light bulb went off. But that was just Corny in the living room.
I went to where he was and pulled out my Ouija board.
"Hey, Cornelius, can you travel outside this home?"
I watched the thing move over to YES on the board.
"Wait, really? What are you always bugging me for, then? Go out in the world. Live a little."
The thing moved over to GOODBYE.
"Wait, wait, wait. We might be able to save your family's grave."
The television flipped on to the T-Birds singing to John Travolta "Tell me more! Tell me more!"
"Okay," I continued. "Well, when I first moved in, Tabitha told me this house was haunted and that she could never live in it cause she hated ghosts." I paused.
"Sorry, buddy. Some people just are stuck in their outdated ways. Anyways... She's the one pushing for new developments and the home going in over your kids' dead bodies."
The Ouija board spelled out GO ON.
"I mean, do I have to spell it out for you? I can use the board if you want. Just go over there. Haunt the beejesus out of her and make her sell her home."
The radio turned on. "Okay! Yeah!" said Lil' John.
The following night, I sat on my patio while I watched Cornelius turn Tabitha's home into on big strobelight.
The pots were banging, the cupboards swinging, and the home owner shrieking.
Not two days later was there a For Sale sign next door.
My Alexa started playing The White Stripe's "We Are Going To Be Friends.""
There's an election upcoming for the new president of the association.
PennBadley t1_ja9az7y wrote
Reply to [WP] You bought a house for insanely cheap, only to find it haunted by an ancient horror. After years of stubborn conflict, you have declared a truce to jointly battle a far greater evil: the local HOA. by ObsessiveAboutCats
The ghost I live with can be a real dick.
It took some time getting used to him. And he's cost me thousands in electric repairs with his constant flickering.
I get it. I'm in his space. All his loved ones are dead. He can't move on. Yadda yadda yadda... doesn't mean you get to turn the T.V. off right before the game winning field goal.
But you know what they say. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Turns out ol' Cornelius wasn't a fan of some of the recent changes the HOA was making. Something about a new home being propped up on his family's graveyard.
Me, on the other hand, I just wanted to put in a basketball hoop and to let my friends park on the street overnight.
But that would be unsightly.
I'm a good neighbor. I keep to myself, mow my lawn, and, most importantly to them, I pay my dues.
But the HOA is a group of the belief that to have fun is to sin. Seriously, those guys make a monastery look like a rave in the early 1990s.
No loud music outdoors after dark. No more than 3 cars parked in front of your house at all times. No above ground pools. Kids couldn't even ride bikes past dusk without getting a lovely call and reminder from my neighbor, Tabitha, the head of the HOA.
So, when I got an email the other day that my Saturday BBQ (that ended at 7 p.m. per HOA rules) was "too loud" and "unbecoming" of our neighborhood, I reached my breaking point.
And then a light bulb went off. But that was just Corny in the living room.
I went to where he was and pulled out my Ouija board.
"Hey, Cornelius, can you travel outside this home?"
I watched the thing move over to YES on the board.
"Wait, really? What are you always bugging me for, then? Go out in the world. Live a little."
The thing moved over to GOODBYE.
"Wait, wait, wait. We might be able to save your family's grave."
The television flipped on to the T-Birds singing to John Travolta "Tell me more! Tell me more!"
"Okay," I continued. "Well, when I first moved in, Tabitha told me this house was haunted and that she could never live in it cause she hated ghosts." I paused.
"Sorry, buddy. Some people just are stuck in their outdated ways. Anyways... She's the one pushing for new developments and the home going in over your kids' dead bodies."
The Ouija board spelled out GO ON.
"I mean, do I have to spell it out for you? I can use the board if you want. Just go over there. Haunt the beejesus out of her and make her sell her home."
The radio turned on. "Okay! Yeah!" said Lil' John.
The following night, I sat on my patio while I watched Cornelius turn Tabitha's home into on big strobelight.
The pots were banging, the cupboards swinging, and the home owner shrieking.
Not two days later was there a For Sale sign next door.
My Alexa started playing The White Stripe's "We Are Going To Be Friends.""
There's an election upcoming for the new president of the association.
Suddenly, I've gotten really into politics.