Should I have used 'Shit Spray' on my neighbour?

How about an agitator? Or a wifi jammer?

Hi. Just a quick note: today’s newsletter is a follow-up to a two-part saga from January. If you haven’t yet read my stories about my bad neighbour, you can do so here and here. This one’s is a little more light-hearted – but it does contain a semi-graphic dental story, so go easy :)

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It was supposed to be a routine check-up at the dentist.

Last week, while lying back in my dentist’s chair staring at a weird 3D puzzle taped to the ceiling, something happened to me that’s never happened before.

Half-way through the appointment, my dentist (she’s lovely) downed tools, peeled off her mask and rocked back in her chair.

“What the hell happened?!” she asked.

I shook my head.

I had no idea.

I thought my teeth were fine.

The shocked look on her face said otherwise.

Since my last check-up, my gums have receded, she told me.

Majorly. Seriously. Like, it’s a big problem.

“Are my teeth going to fall out?” I asked her.

“If we don’t do something about it immediately,” she said, “then yes.”

I was stunned.

I have a few fillings, but I floss, brush and mouthwash like a maniac.

I have a dental plan. My teeth are good. I haven’t had a filling in years. My dentist has never used the words “gum disease” in my presence.

But this day was different.

Stunned and confused, with an urgent appointment with a gum specialist locked in, I headed home to ponder the potential causes.

I jumped online and immediately realised what had happened.

2023.

2023 happened.

The neighbour happened.

In case you’re late to this terrible party, my neighbour played the same three songs by Imagine Dragons, Katy Perry and Meghan Trainor over and over again for six months.

He bullied my family, abused us, poured weedkiller over our lawn and forced us out of our home when we were really not ready to leave.

tt was a stressful time. I got a twitch in my eye and my hair fell out for the first time in my life.

But I don’t remember having any issues with my teeth.

Here, more than six months on from the end of the saga, I am finally beginning to unwind and relax.

I’m going to concerts and festivals again.

I’m enjoying discovering new music again.

And yet the fallout from one bad neighbour continues.

The stress is right there, still sitting in my gums.

So, today, I thought I’d revisit the saga with a light-hearted (and stress-free) look at some of the advice I was given over that time.

Because, when you have a bad neighbour, it turns out everyone has their own version of that particular suburban nightmare.

And they all have their own unique way of dealing with it.

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I want as many people as possible to read this story. But I also need to be careful. The events I’m depicting here took up six months of my life, and it took another six to report it. The man at the centre of it is still around. I had to get legal advice. None of this is cheap. #journalism.

So this post is for paying subscribers. If you’d like to read it, you can sign up to a monthly subscription, or an annual one, which is cheaper. I’ve kept prices low but I understand times are tough. If it’s still too much, please reach out and I’ll comp you, no judgement whatsoever.