Our new neighbor had been upset about parking from the very first day we moved in. As we unloaded boxes from the moving truck, she immediately complained. “There should only be one car per house on this street,” she insisted, glaring at our two vehicles. We tried to reason with her—both cars were parked legally, just like everyone else—but she wasn’t having it. It quickly became clear this wasn’t about the law; it was her personal preference. Still, we figured it was a minor quirk and decided to ignore it.
A few days later, we noticed a handwritten note on our windshield in angry, scrawled letters: “One car per house! Move the extra one or else!” My partner and I rolled our eyes but laughed it off. After all, we weren’t breaking any laws.
We thought that would be the end of it. We were wrong.
Three days later, we woke up to the roar of engines and the clang of chains. Rushing outside, we were stunned—both of our cars were hooked up to tow trucks. And there she was, our neighbor, standing there with a smug grin, arms folded.
“Well,” she said, practically gloating, “maybe now you’ll listen when someone tells you the rules!”
I walked toward her slowly, trying to keep my composure. “Wow,” I said, “you really went through with it, huh?”
Her smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.
I shrugged, suppressing a grin. “Oh, nothing,” I replied casually. “Just that you now owe us $25,000.”
Her eyes went wide. “What? What do you mean?”
I nodded toward the special permit tag hanging from our second car’s rearview mirror. “That tag,” I said, “means these cars are part of a government program for classic and specialty vehicles. They have certain protections—illegal towing can carry massive fines. The towing company knows they’re in the wrong, which means the cost goes straight to the person who called them in.”
Her face went pale. “I-I didn’t know…” she stammered.
I leaned in, enjoying the moment. “Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before making up your own rules.”
By then, the tow trucks had unhooked our cars and drove off. Our vehicles were safe, and our neighbor? She looked like she’d just seen a crime scene. After that day, she never brought up parking again. In fact, she started avoiding us completely—no notes, no complaints, no eye contact.
Sometimes patience is the best revenge. We didn’t have to make a scene. The universe handled it for us, turning her own arrogance into a costly mistake. Some people need a little push to learn that you can’t just make up your own rules—and in this case, the lesson came with a price tag.