Local drama feeds Nextdoor addiction

I have fallen down the rabbit hole of Nextdoor.com and I may never return.

This modernday equivalent of peering at one’s neighbors through the frontroom curtains has captivated me, like a reality television show in which I can participate. And it’s becoming a problem.

For the people who have lives, let me give you the lowdown: Nextdoor is a San Francisco social networking service that allows people, once their residence is officially confirmed, to communicate with those in their immediate radius. Users can sell items, seek recommendations, share news, ask opinions and generally connect with one another.

Thus far, I’ve used Nextdoor to sell and purchase used items, find a nearby babysitter, and nose my way into neighborhood gossip.

The post that took me over the edge was the recent publishing of a video that contained a heated portion of a loud argument among several of my very close neighbors. Apparently, someone witnessed a neighbor abusing a dog and confronted them about it. The abuse was not caught on camera, but the yelling was. Within an hour or so of the screaming match, the video was uploaded to YouTube and to Nextdoor by the witness of the alleged abuse. I watched it several times and then, in what was a very dumb idea, I put my child in a stroller and walked around the block to the scene of the drama.

Unlike Facebook or Instagram, Nextdoor is focused exclusively on one’s neighborhood and surrounding area. It’s all right here at my nosy fingertips! When we lived in San Francisco, I didn’t use Nextdoor other than the occasional curiosity that would pop into my inbox, namely missing pet posts. (I’ve always wanted to find a missing pet for someone.)

But once we moved to the suburbs, we needed inexpensive furniture and services. Simultaneously, our baby was outgrowing all the baby things we had been gifted and needed new toddler things, things that he could certainly enjoy secondhand.

Right off the bat, the recommendations were fantastic. Where to get a custom birthday cake? $30 at the Nugget. Need a handyman? We use the very chatty Ernie. Anyone need a used jogging stroller? We do.

“Nextdoor is so useful,” I gushed to my husband.

Eh, he shrugged. He does not find these sorts of things nearly as exciting as I do.

I dived further into the platform and downloaded the app. There, I found the hyperlocal soap opera I didn’t know I’d been missing. I scanned posts that featured grainy home security camera videos of prowlers jiggling locked front doors, and then followed, one by one, the 245 comments debating whether homeowners should shoot intruders. (I’m looking at you, Terra Linda.)

Another post sought recommendations for a reliable psychic medium, and a responder offered the name of one to avoid. Mediums to avoid! These are things I need to know.

And of course, people use Nextdoor to complain about porch bandits, those frustrating culprits who steal packages from doorsteps. Late last year, San Francisco journalist Lauren Smiley penned a long read for the Atlantic about this very subject. In her article, Smiley traced a notorious Potrero Hill package thief and the legion of Nextdoor activists who joined forces to take her down. I thought about sharing a link to this fascinating piece on my neighborhood Nextdoor page, but that is not my Nextdoor style. I am a lurker, rarely a poster. When you spread news on Nextdoor, especially about a hot topic like crime, you open yourself up to heated response — and its response from people you might run into in real life.

Which takes me back to the hysterical neighbor video posted a couple of weeks ago. There I was, with a child in tow, trying to look casual while seeking proximity to a screaming match that had taken place just hours earlier. In retrospect, people who post video of fights instead of notifying appropriate authorities may be prone to a level of drama that, despite my morbid interest, I do not need around my child or myself. I’d taken Nextdoor too far.

By the time we made it home, just a few minutes after my “Oh hey. Don’t mind me. I just saw several of you yelling at each other on the internet” walk around the block, the video post had come down and in its place was a note: The police had been alerted to alleged animal abuse. Everybody relax.

Cooler Nextdoor heads had prevailed and my Nextdoor head went scrolling, scrolling, scrolling for the next bit of neighborhood news.

I found the hyperlocal soap opera I didn’t know I’d been missing.