He lives on my street.

He nicks everyone's bins and hides them down the side of our house in the alley. It's his way of dealing with "the scum, gypsies and tinkers" that leave their bins out after collection. We put ours in, but our house is on the end so we get to enjoy the sound of 20 wheelie bins being lined up against our lounge wall.

On Friday we were just leaving the house and we caught him in the act and asked him to stop, explaining about the noise issue, the fact that if the bins are full they stink, the rubbish blows into our garden and that people kick them over.

The most I was expecting was a potentially heated discussion where I'd inevitably apologise and say "fair enough, but could you not line the bins up under our kitchen window, especially the ones that haven't been emptied" before going inside and regretting that I even bothered to discuss it.

But no, what started off as "excuse me mate, can I have a word?" ended up with him threatening to rape me.

I can't cover all the detail because there's too much, so here are some selected highlights.

Me: "Excuse me mate, can I have a word about the bins?

Him: "Fuck you, you filthy scum fuck."

Then he disappears for about a minute and returns minus his jacket.

At this point, I notice the lady across the road looking out of her window. So I go into 'acting like I'm being filmed and the film is going to be shown in court' mode.

Me: "What was that all about? I just want you to stop putting the bins under our window."

Him: "You fucking cunt. If you don't stop talking I'm going to smash your face in and fuck you in the arse."

Me: "What?"

Him: (Approaching) "You think you're tough? You look like you've already been raped."

Me: "Ok, you should probably back **interrupted**

Him: "If you go in that alley way, I'm going to kick the shit out of you." (I was walking into the alley way to move the bins back)

Me: "Alright, now you're being a dick. If you keep threatening me, I'm going to start taking it seriously.

Him: "You want a fucking fight? (advancing towards me, removing zipper hoody.) I'll fucking kick the shit out of you, you fucking gypsy bastard. Then I'll fucking rape you and you'll love it."

Me: "You're crowding me." (Tony Blundetto said this to Tony Soprano and I thought it was a good way of telling someone to get out your face assertively but without inflaming the situation.)

Him" "What?"

Me: "If you keep getting in my face, I'm going to hit you. Now I do want a fight because you've threatened to rape me and you're in my face."

Him: "Fuck that, let's arm wrestle."

He then rolled up his sleeve and said "best of three!"

That's when I realised he was a bit nuts. When I told him to fuck off (mistake) he lost it and started kicking the bins around and saying people like me were the reason the world's all fucked up. He obviously thinks I'm one of the people who leave their bins out. And he obviously spends a lot of his time brooding over the bin thing.

What I didn't know was that when he disappeared for a bit, he'd called 999 and said that there was a gang in the street, threatening him.

So later on in the day, the police turn up to ask me what happened. They'd already taken his statement and I think they figured out he was not right. But they probably wanted to double check he wasn't mental and being given a hard time by some dick down the road. So fair enough. I told them what happened.

The police man said "This clearly isn't a police matter, bins are a council matter. He shouldn't have called us. If you see him, ignore him. If anything else happens, ring this number and quote this reference. Thanks for your time. Bye."

Then in the morning, I go out in my car (cue Twilight Zone theme) and it's really struggling. Then I notice my petrol dial is so low, it's past the red bit and into the white. I fill it up and think start to think "that's not normal, I put petrol in this week and I've hardly been anywhere."

So I get home after doing what I've got to do and my friend is at my house. Just before I go to tell him about the petrol thing, he shows me a load of nails he's picked up from the drive, from where I park.

So we both go out to see if there's any stuck in my tires and I notce three pieces of wire on the floor.

We look at them and try to work out what they are. There were three identical lengths of copper wire, each with frayed ends and different coloured tips (blue, orange, yellow)

So I ring the number the police man gave me and explain what's happened. The guy I'm talking to suggests taking the wires to a mechanic to see if they can identify them.

So I do, as the mechanic is only down the road and he's a good sort who'll stop for a chat any way. He looks at the wires and says "I'm not saying they're definitely off a car, but older cars do have these sort of wires, they're probably off the thermostat. No wire that thin would be used for brakes or steering, so your car is safe, but if it is your thermostat, your car will probably overheat."

Obviously I have no proof my neighbour is involved, but obviously he is.

Thanks for listening.

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