But that wasn’t the end.
Apparently, when she called the towing company, she used a forged citation template she found online to make it look like our cars were in violation of some imaginary ordinance. She had emailed it from a Gmail account pretending to be from “Portland Suburban Residential Authority.” Which, again, doesn’t exist.
Once the feds were looped in, they uncovered not just the forgery, but a trail of complaints Beverly had filed—dozens of them—under fake names about various neighbors. All of them petty. All of them nonsense.
Turns out, she had been doing this for years, even before she moved to our block. She just finally got caught.
When the case wrapped, she was slapped with a $15,000 fine for filing false reports, another $10,000 for federal interference, and a suspended six-month sentence pending good behavior.
Our neighborhood’s never been more peaceful.
A couple weeks ago, her house went up for sale. Rumor has it, she’s moving in with her sister somewhere in Idaho.
The day the moving truck pulled away, Maddie and I popped a bottle of sparkling wine on the porch.
“Cheers to good fences,” I said.
“Cheers to better neighbors,” she replied.
We clinked glasses and watched the sun dip behind the trees, our driveway—both cars in it—safe and sound.
So, next time someone tells you to pick your battles… consider picking the one that makes the whole street a little quieter.
Ever had a neighbor push you just a bit too far? Share your story—let’s see who had it worse. And if you liked this one, give it a thumbs up and pass it along!
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