"Excuse me! What exactly do you think you are doing?" she barked, marching toward me with purposeful, heavy steps.
I blinked, genuinely confused. "I'm... unlocking my door? Can I help you with something?"
"You certainly cannot help me, but you can move this eyesore of a vehicle immediately," she said, gesturing wildly at my truck. "You are trespassing in the Whispering Pines Elite community. This is private property, and we do not allow vagrants or unauthorized campers."
I let out a tired sigh. I had just driven for twelve hours, and I wasn't in the mood for a misunderstanding. "Ma'am, there's been a mistake. I'm not a camper. I own this cabin. I've been away working overseas, and I just got back today."
She scoffed, a loud, grating sound that echoed off the trees. "Lie to someone who cares, buddy. I know every single homeowner in this development. I am Brenda, the President of the Homeowners Association. I personally oversee all property records, and this dilapidated shack has been abandoned for years. Now, are you going to leave peacefully, or do I need to call the authorities?"
I stared at her, trying to process the sheer audacity. "The HOA? Lady, there is no HOA here. And this 'dilapidated shack' is my home."
Brenda’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She flipped aggressively through the papers on her metal clipboard, stabbing her manicured finger at a densely typed document.
"For your information," she sneered, her voice dripping with condescension, "the Whispering Pines Elite HOA was officially established two years ago to maintain the standards of this valley. We have rules, regulations, and strict aesthetic guidelines. Your rusty truck violates section 4, paragraph B regarding unauthorized commercial vehicles. And your presence here violates our anti-squatting bylaws."
I leaned against the wooden railing of my porch, crossing my arms. "Brenda, was it? Let me make this very clear. You might have formed a little club with the houses over on the East Ridge, but this cabin—and the land it sits on—is not part of any subdivision. You have absolutely no jurisdiction here."
"I have jurisdiction over this entire valley!" she shrieked, her face turning an impressive shade of magenta. "I manage the road maintenance, I collect the gate fees, and I dictate who gets to enjoy our private lake. You are nothing but a trespasser trying to take advantage of an empty property. I am issuing you a formal citation, and if you are not gone in fifteen minutes, I will have your truck impounded."