We bought our house in Dayton six years ago. My husband Marcus and I each drive a car, and we’ve always parked them in our own driveway.
One Tuesday, I found a note under my wiper. “One vehicle per household. Final warning.” It was signed “A Concerned Neighbor,” but I knew it was Linda from across the street. She had complained about everything from our trash cans to our porch light.
I showed Marcus, and we both laughed. It was our driveway. We ignored it.
Four days later, we woke up and both cars were gone. Linda was standing on her porch with her coffee, grinning.
I walked over. “Did you call a tow company?”
“I did. The rule is the rule.”
“Which rule? Our HOA doesn’t have one.”
“The city has a rule about cars parked on the street.”
I smiled. “Linda, our cars were never on the street. The driveway is ours. You called a tow company on private property.”
Her smile disappeared.
Marcus had already called the tow company. They admitted they never checked with the property owner before hooking up our cars. The owner, a man named Phil, agreed to release both vehicles for free. He also paid for our day of missed work, and we got a written apology.
Linda sent a short card the next week. It said, “I should have asked first.”
We still wave to her. She waves back, but she doesn’t leave notes anymore.
