I’ve always tried to be a good neighbor—bringing cookies to new families, helping out with community cleanups, and patiently sitting through HOA meetings. My husband Paul often jokes that I’m “too nice for my own good.” Maybe he’s right. But even the nicest people have their limits. Mine came in the form of garbage bags—left carelessly on the curb by our neighbor John.
John moved in three years ago. At first, he seemed polite and quiet. But his approach to trash quickly became a problem. Unlike the rest of us, John didn’t use trash bins. “The garbage men take it either way,” I once heard him say. Instead, he left bags on the curb—sometimes days early. They’d sit in the sun, leak, and create an unpleasant smell that drifted across the block.
We tried to be understanding. Paul thought maybe John was still figuring things out. But after three years, it was clear: John simply wasn’t managing his trash responsibly.
The impact was hard to ignore. Our carefully tended flower beds suffered from the odor. Mrs. Miller’s Yorkie once dragged a stray chicken bone onto her porch. The Rodriguez kids kept finding wrappers and soggy napkins in their yard. Even Mr. Peterson, our usually reserved neighbor, complained about litter blowing into his rose bushes.
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