"Hi, can I help you?" I asked. "It's about time," Brenda huffed, pushing past me to look at the pool. "I'm Brenda, the HOA President. I noticed the construction finished last week. We need to discuss the operating hours for the new community pool." I blinked. "Excuse me? Community pool? This is my private backyard." Brenda laughed, a condescending, nasally sound. "Don't be ridiculous. You're in Oak Creek. All recreational facilities of this size are subject to HOA shared-use bylaws. My kids are ready to swim. We’ll take the 12:00 to 4:00 PM slot today.
"You're deeply mistaken," I said, my tone hardening. I blocked her path to the water. "First of all, I am not in the HOA. My property is grandfathered out. Second, even if I was, this is a privately funded, privately built pool on my private property. You and your kids need to leave. Now."
Brenda’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. The condescending smile vanished, replaced by pure venom. "You can't do that! You are hoarding resources! I will be reporting you to the board, and you will be fined $500 a day until you grant neighborhood access!" "Get off my property," I warned, stepping toward her. She scoffed, gathered her disappointed children, and stormed out, but not before shouting over her shoulder, "You haven't heard the last of this!"