It all started with a passive-aggressive note slapped under our windshield wiper in all caps:
**“ONE CAR PER HOUSE! DON’T BE SELFISH!”**
We live in a cul-de-sac where each house has two parking spots — one driveway, one curbside. My husband and I have two cars. Perfectly legal. Perfectly reasonable.
But our neighbor, Mrs. Trudy, had a problem with that.
We ignored her note. Figured she’d cool off.
Three days later, at 6:43 a.m., we were jolted awake by the sound of engines revving… and then **nothing**.
Our driveway was empty.
Both cars—**gone.**
We sprinted outside in our pajamas, and there she was—**Trudy**—leaning smugly against her front door, coffee in hand, and the smuggest grin plastered across her face.
“Wow,” I said, arms folded. “You really did it, huh?”
Her grin widened. “That’s what happens when people think they’re above the rules.”
I tilted my head and smiled calmly. “You sure about that?”
She frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said, pulling out my phone and dialing. “Just the fact that you **owe us \$25,000 now.**”
Her face dropped. “What—what do you mean?”
I pointed at the corner of our driveway. On the pavement was a yellow triangular **“FedGov Marking”**—a special indicator sprayed by the city a week ago, denoting that our property (including curbside) was under **temporary federal lease** due to a pilot program my husband works on with the Department of Transportation.
“The government tagged our driveway and curb for protected employee parking. Tow our cars? That’s a violation under contract clause 17-C. Automatic fine. \$12,500 per vehicle.
Trudy’s jaw went slack.
I grinned. “Bet you didn’t get what that little mark meant, huh? Should’ve asked before calling your cousin’s towing company.”
Turns out, she’d used a shady connection to remove our vehicles without official authorization. We didn’t even have to press charges—**the feds did it for us.**
Trudy’s “grin” disappeared for good.
She hasn’t left another note since.