I lived next door to a home owner who had an anxiety disorder about noise. The day I moved in her asked me not to use one of the doors leading into my backyard. Bizarre, I thought, but I complied and even put a fridge in front of it for good measure. Over the next 12 months, he relentlessly complained to our estate agent about the noise from our property, even once calling the police about a ‘domestic dispute’. When they arrived I was in my pyjamas with a cup of tea in hand; I’d been reading in bed. Despite getting signatures from all other surrounding neighbours stating that we weren’t noisy and were in fact flawless neighbours, we were evicted from that property the moment the lease expired. My life utterly disrupted, turfed from my home, I complained to the estate agent who only admitted, “Yeah, that neighbour is a real piece of work. He’s been calling stipulating what gender (i.e. no women) and nationality the new tenants should be.” Instead of feeling vindicated, I was only dismayed. She knew I was evicted based on the vexatious rants of this madman but couldn’t care less. I was just another tenant.