I lived in a house until young adulthood. What I remember of our immediate neighbors is a young couple with a son and a vicious dog named Shadow and a wealthy elderly couple, on the other side of our house, who always owned Cadillacs. The woman was lovely and the man was a cigar-smoking braggart. I, also, remember good relations between my family and our neighbors.
When you live in a high-rise building, you experience a wide range of types, some of whom aren't all that desirable as neighbors. Since I live on the ground floor of my building, I mostly experience my neighbors in the laundry room. Most of them are pleasant enough, but some of them haven't, as yet, learned how to be good neighbors.
Several years ago, I had a big wash to do that required my using a number of machines. Some of the washing machines contained clothes that were waiting to be picked up by their owners. As I see nothing wrong with removing the clothes and putting them on the table in the laundry room, I did just that. Later, when I went downstairs to get my wash, I noticed that someone had opened the door to one of the washing machines that I was using so that I had to restart the machine. I don't believe that that was an accident as the doors don't open easily. Apparently, the person whose clothes I had taken out of the machine and placed on the table resented my action and had decided to make me pay for it. I couldn't believe that someone would be so petty and spiteful, but proof was staring me in the face.
When you use shared washing machines and dryers, it behooves you to pick up your clothes, sheets and towels as soon as they are done. Why would you want to keep someone waiting for use of the machines? If something important prevents you from getting to the laundry room in time, you shouldn't be bent out of shape if someone takes your stuff out and puts it on a table.
The laundry incident was mild compared to an ongoing problem that I had with my upstairs neighbor who, thankfully, is long gone from the building. He used to play the most horrific music, very loudly, in the middle of the night, not just on weekends, but during the week as well. If memory serves, I had slipped him a note, under his door, asking him to lower the sound. That didn't work so I wound up calling the Quality of Life police every time he blasted his music. They would come, every time I called, knock on his door, tell him to turn off his music and leave. That was only a momentary solution to the problem as he, apparently, had a short memory. The most peculiar thing about the story was that he was an MD! You would think that he needed his sleep too. I concluded that he must have been on drugs as his behavior was so antisocial that I found it hard to believe that someone who wasn't "out of it" would behave this way.
It's not hard to be a good neighbor. All you have to do is be considerate of others and treat them as you like to be treated. This is especially important when you share a building with other people.
What bad neighbor experiences have you had?