But the universe had other plans.
When I stepped outside, coffee in hand, I froze. My truck—my perfectly fine, minding-its-own-business truck—was shackled. A giant yellow wheel clamp was locked onto the front tire like some kind of medieval punishment device for naughty vehicles.
For a split second, all I could do was blink. The bold stenciled letters on the boot read: HOA Impound: Non-Compliant Vehicle.
There wasn't enough caffeine in the world for this.
I set my mug on the hood and crouched down to inspect the clamp. It was real metal, real heavy, and very much real property damage if she'd scratched my rim. A laminated tag dangled from the lock:
Release fee: $350
Processing fee: $25
Administrative fee: $15
Total due: $390
Karen really woke up and chose grand larceny today.
Behind me, I heard the unmistakable shuffle of triumphant sandals. I didn't turn; I already knew who it was.
"Well," she called, arms crossed. "Perhaps now you'll learn to respect community authority."
I stood slowly. "You put a wheel clamp on my truck."
"It's not your truck," she snapped. "It's a community-adjacent vehicle subject to oversight. Impoundment was necessary after repeated violations."
I exhaled through my nose the way I do right before reading someone their Miranda rights. "Karen, this is illegal."
"No," she corrected, tapping her clipboard. "This is proactive neighborhood safety enforcement."
"You immobilized a law enforcement vehicle."
Her eyes narrowed. "A vehicle used to intimidate residents. Frankly, you should thank me."
"For committing a crime?"