Our neighbor stuck a note on our car: “One car per house!” We ignored it. But, three days later, we woke up to our cars being towed. We ran outside – and there she was, grinning wide.
ME: “Wow! You really did it, huh?”
HER: “What’s so funny?!”
ME: “Nothing. Just the fact that YOU OWE US $25,000 NOW.”
HER: nervous gulp “What -What do you mean?”
I pointed at the car’s tag and chuckled out loud. “Bet you didn’t get what that mark means, as…”
“…as you happily signed that towing authorization form,” I finished, crossing my arms as the tow truck reached the end of our street.
Brenda—our self-appointed neighborhood dictator—paled. She squinted down the road at my husband’s modified, imported sports car bouncing violently on its rear tires behind the tow truck.
“That yellow tag on the back window,” I explained, my voice dripping with fake sympathy, “is a warning label. It clearly states the car has a highly customized, permanent All-Wheel-Drive (AWD) system. It strictly requires a flatbed tow. If it’s dragged by two wheels like your buddy is doing right now, the center differential and the entire transmission violently rip themselves apart.”
Right on cue, a horrific, loud CRUNCH echoed from the end of the block, followed by the agonizing screech of grinding gears. The tow truck jerked to a halt. The driver hopped out, looked under my husband’s car, and immediately threw his hands on his head in panic.
Brenda’s smug grin completely melted off her face. “W-well, that’s the tow company’s problem! Not mine! They’re the ones who broke it!”
“Actually, Brenda, it is your problem,” I smiled, pulling out my phone to dial the non-emergency police line. “Because we don’t have an HOA, meaning you have zero authority over the public street parking or our driveway. To get them to tow our cars, you had to sign a predatory tow waiver claiming you were the property owner or legal manager, which means you assumed full liability for any damages incurred during the removal.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I… I just wanted you to follow the unwritten rules of the street! It’s one car per house!” she stammered, stepping backward toward her pristine, manicured lawn.
“And now you’re going to follow the written rules of the law. Specifically, the ones regarding illegal towing, falsifying documents to a towing company, and destruction of private property.”
By the time the police arrived, the towing company’s manager had already rushed to the scene. Once the officers determined that Brenda had lied about being a property manager to authorize the tow, the tow company instantly washed their hands of the situation. They dropped the severely damaged car right back in our driveway, handed Brenda a $350 invoice for the dispatch, and gave her a copy of the liability waiver she had so proudly signed.
My husband’s mechanic quoted the total rebuild of the specialized transmission and drivetrain at just over $25,000. Brenda’s homeowner’s insurance refused to cover it because the act was deemed an intentional, illegal interference with our property.
She had to empty her personal savings and take out a loan just to settle out of court to avoid the Grand Theft Auto and fraud charges we were preparing to press.
The best part? She had to sell her own car to help cover the legal fees. Now, her driveway is completely empty. I guess she finally got her wish—she’s technically under the one-car limit.
