When Shannon moved into the house next door, I hoped for a friendly neighbor. She was around my age, early forties, with a flashy personality and a penchant for tiny bikinis. But I knew we were in trouble when she decided her new favorite sunbathing spot was directly in front of my house—right outside my 15-year-old son Jake’s bedroom window.
The first time I saw her lying out there, I couldn’t believe it. Jake was clearly uncomfortable; he even avoided his room for the rest of the day. I tried to be civil and approached Shannon with a simple request: maybe she could sunbathe on her side of the yard? But she just laughed and said, “If your son’s uncomfortable, that’s HIS problem. I do what I want in MY yard.”
Well, I thought that was the end of it, but a few days later, I came home to find something bizarre on my lawn. Right in the middle of my carefully tended grass sat an old, grimy toilet bowl. There was a note taped to it, in huge letters: *”FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE.”* I knew immediately it was Shannon’s handiwork. My blood was boiling.
I confronted her, but she just smirked. “You wanted to share your opinion,” she said smugly, “so I gave you a place to put it.”
Instead of taking her bait, I decided I’d let karma run its course. And as it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long.
A few days later, I was watering my flowers when I saw her frantically waving her arms around in her yard. She was shouting at someone who was placing a big “For Sale” sign on her front lawn. Turns out, Shannon hadn’t actually bought the house—she was just renting it. Her landlord had decided to sell and hadn’t renewed her lease.
As I watched her scramble to gather her things, I couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated. Shannon’s arrogance and rudeness had finally caught up to her. Just as she threw one last glare in my direction, I gave her a friendly wave and called out, “Good luck with your *next* yard, Shannon!”