HOA—Karen trespassed onto my driveway with a tape… IT BACKFIRED the same day…
This is my property. Your fence is clearly over the line. Relax, Karen. It’s just a few inches. At 6:00 a.m., I opened my door in pajamas and found Karen on my driveway crouched like a crime scene tech pulling a bright yellow tape across my concrete. She didn’t even look up. You’re 3 in over the setback, she hissed like she’d caught me stealing the moon.
She snapped a photo, slapped an orange violation notice on my mailbox, and marched off like a drum major. My coffee went cold in my hand. I’m not new to HOA drama, but this was a new level. My crime. I’d widened my driveway with pavers last year with written approval, stamped and dated.
Still, that morning, Karen posted in the neighborhood group that I was ruining property values and that rules are rules. Neighbors saw the post and went quiet. A couple sent me shrinking emoji texts. No one wanted to cross the HOA president. I went to the next board hearing. Karen sat in the middle like a queen spider, the tape measure on the table like a trophy.
I handed over my approval letter. She didn’t touch it. We have new interpretation, she said. Retroactive. The two other board members stared at their shoes. My appeal died on the spot. She gave me 48 hours to correct the encroachment or the HOA would find me daily and explore towing. Towing? For my own driveway, I walked home angry and shaking.
Then I made tea and open the bylaws. If Karen wanted rules, I would bring rules with footnotes. I read every line from architectural harmony to trash can placement. Two things popped like fireworks. First, the HOA couldn’t trespass for measurements without notice and consent unless there was an emergency. Second, anything built on the common easement, mailboxes, fences, cute little arches needed city approval, not just HOA nods.
Interesting, because Karen’s fancy brick walkway and her big iron mailbox sat right on the corner where the HOA owned strip meets the sidewalk. Plan time. I set my security cameras to high sensitivity and put up two small, no trespassing camera recording signs on my fence. I called a licensed surveyor to mark my property lines.
I filed a courteous, detailed request to city code enforcement asking for a setback inspection of my driveway. Happy to cooperate. Then I added a separate note asking them to confirm the status of structures on the HOA common strip, specifically a brick walkway and iron mailbox near Karen’s address. I also dialed 811, the utility marking line, because guess who had planted a rose arch over a marked utility easement? Karen, the surveyor, came first.
He hammered bright stakes and strung fluorescent line like a runway. He measured, double checked, and then smiled. “You’re good,” he said. “Actually, you’re 2 in inside the setback.” He left me a signed report. At noon, a white city car rolled up. Karen must have called them, too, because she came power walking down the sidewalk with the tape already in her hand, dramatic as a courtroom show.
A couple neighbors peeked from behind curtains. I hit record on my phone. The inspector introduced himself, looked at my permit letter, looked at the survey stakes, and nodded. looks compliant. Karen stepped between us, tape snapping, voice sharp. No, he’s over. She yanked the tape across my driveway, planted the end on my grass, and then the inspector raised a calm hand. “Ma’am,” he said.
“That’s private property. Please don’t trespass.” My camera caught her freeze, one foot on my driveway, one foot off, like she’d paused mid-rime. She tried to laugh it off. “I’m the HOA president.” The inspector didn’t blink. He asked me, “Do you have video of earlier measurements?” I told him, “Yes.” He asked if I wanted a trespass report.
I said I did. While he wrote notes, a utility truck turned the corner with a guy in a hard hat carrying bright paint. 811 locate, he called. He started marking the street. Then the grass along the corner near Karen’s mailbox. His eyebrows went up. Hm. This walkway and mailbox are on the common strip. And that arch is over our easement.
Not great. Karen’s face went from pink to tomato. Those are decorative. She snapped. The utility guy shrugged and sprayed big neon symbols around her roses. The inspector walked over, measured from the curb to her bricks inside. Ma’am, these appear to encroach on public right of way. You’ll need to remove them or get permits, which I doubt you’ll get. I’m issuing a notice.
The sidewalk became a tiny stadium. Neighbors stepped out with phones. Someone whispered, “She brought the tape on the wrong day.” The teenager next door started a slow clap. Even the mail carrier paused, reading the orange notice now stuck to Karen’s own mailbox like a mirror of my morning. Karen tried one last swing.
She pointed at my pavers. We’re towing him. The inspector shook his head. No, you’re not. Then the police cruiser rolled up for the trespass call. The officer watched my video, zoomed in on Karen’s shoes on my driveway, and gave her a formal warning. And next time, it’s a citation, he said. HOA rules don’t override the law.
That was the crack. The board called an emergency meeting that evening. I came with a folder. Survey, permit, video, screenshots of the bylaws consent clause. A line of neighbors came too, faces finally brave. Karen tried to run the meeting until the treasurer cleared his throat. Per section three, he said, voice shaking but firm.
We can remove the president for cause. He looked at me then the room. Hands went up. The vote wasn’t close. The board canceled my violation on the spot, wrote me an apology on HOA letterhead, and promised training on boundaries, literal and legal. The city gave Karen 30 days to move her mailbox, break up the walkway, and cut the arch.
The HOA fined her for unapproved structures on common property. The irony wrote itself. The next morning, my street felt lighter. No orange paper on my mailbox. Kids rode scooters on the clean sidewalk. The utility crew returned, and Karen had to watch them dig neat lines right where her roses used to be. She kept the tape in her pocket this time.
She glared at me once, but her eyes dropped fast. I waved anyway. Peace settled in like a long exhale. The neighbor who hid before brought me cookies and said, “I’m sorry we didn’t speak up sooner.” I told her it was okay. Sometimes a bully needs a mirror. Sometimes that mirror is a survey stake, a camera, and a rulebook.
Now my driveway sits 2 in inside the line and Karen finally learned where hers is. Please follow for more HOA showdowns like this. Do you think she got what she deserves? Comment below.
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