My wife and I moved into our neighborhood a few years ago, thrilled to finally own a home. It had a big backyard, a newly renovated kitchen, and a wide driveway that could comfortably fit our two cars. We are on a corner lot, which gives us a bit more space, but it also comes with a unique geographical quirk. Our house is situated directly next to the neighborhood community center and the community pool. At first, we didnβt think this would be an issue. The community center has its own parking lot, and we assumed people would just use that.
For the first few months, everything was great. The neighborhood was quiet, the people we met were friendly, and we were busy settling into our new routine. Then the annual neighborhood association elections happened, and a new group of people took over the board. The new HOA president was a guy who treated his unpaid volunteer position like he had just been crowned the king of the subdivision. I refer to him simply as the HOA president. He was the kind of guy who drove a massive lifted white pickup truck that looked like it had never seen a speck of mud or hauled a single piece of cargo in its life. The truck had huge tires, obnoxiously bright headlights, and a custom exhaust that rattled our windows whenever he drove by.
The problem started when the new board began hosting weekly meetings and social events at the community center. The small parking lot at the center would fill up quickly, and the overflow parking would spill out onto the street. Parking on the street is perfectly legal in our city, provided you follow the basic rules of the road. However, the HOA president decided that he didnβt want to walk all the way from the overflow parking areas down the block. Instead, he decided that the spot directly at the end of my driveway was his own personal VIP parking space.
The first time it happened, it was a Saturday morning. I walked out to my car to go to the hardware store for some supplies. I opened my garage door and saw this giant white wall of metal completely blocking my exit. His truck was essentially parked parallel to the curb right across the apron of my driveway. There was absolutely no way I could back my car out without hitting him. I locked my house and walked over to the community center. I poked my head into the main meeting room where about 10 people were sitting around folding tables. I asked loudly who owned the lifted white truck blocking my driveway, and the HOA president looked up, looking extremely annoyed that I had interrupted him.