​Jackie McGregor: People are no longer neighbourly, but I’ve got a deluxe ‘binfluencer’

I felt awkward; I didn’t want to be known as the neighbour who broke with protocol by executing a self-retrieval.

It was a delicate situation; I was the new kid on the block. I didn’t want to risk being shunned by the rest of the neighbourhood for usurping the ‘binfluencer’ (the person who leads in putting out the correct bins.)

When I moved into my new home, the local binfluencer visited me on my first day.

It transpired he was a binfluencer of the deluxe variety, not only did he provide early bin colour signalling, but he and another retired gent, delivered everyone’s bins back up their driveways on collection day. They had a system, and I was being welcomed in as part of it. I felt strangely validated.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, then my anxiety-prone brain jumped ahead of me. What would happen come Christmas? Would we be expected to deliver a gratuity to both men?

Perhaps wine or biscuits, but what if they had a drink problem or a food allergy? My brain catastrophised, I would just try and sit back and go with the flow. All went well until the day I was ostracised!

I was unprepared for the feeling of discomfort I experienced the first time the bin wasn’t brought in. I looked to the street to find all bins vanished, except mine!

It was standing there like the lonely kid in the playground. Had I caused offence by unwittingly violating a bin rule? I was confused and offended. I sneaked out and retrieved it.

I felt bad all week after ‘bin-gate’, convinced I was now a social leper.

The following week was nail-biting! If my bin was left behind again, there was obviously a problem.

Nervously, I peered outside, and there it was, standing majestically up my drive. I was redeemed! I later received an apology and was told it was purely an oversight. Phew, I was back in with the bin crowd. I was accepted by the hood!

I realised that I already knew more neighbours in my new home in a short time, than I had in my old home where I’d resided for years. It was a good feeling, though it appears making friends on the doorstep may be a thing of the past.

A survey on Northern Ireland neighbours indicated that neighbourly interactions are declining. Half the population hadn't talked to their neighbours in at least a month, and one in five had never spoken to them at all. Nearly half don't know their neighbours' names, and only 25 per cent would knock on a door to welcome newcomers. Seventy per cent don't know their neighbours well. In a poll of 4,000 people, over three-quarters believed neighbours were closer 20 years ago than today, which is sad, as it's comforting to live where people look out for each other and are quiet and friendly.

I count myself very fortunate with my new neighbours. Previously, I had to move due to a noisy neighbour. He was so inconsiderate, always banging on my door and shouting. I could barely hear myself practising my trombone!