It started with tire tracks.
Every morning, without fail, my neighbor would cut through my front yard like it was her personal driveway. She lived just two houses down and claimed the shortcut saved her five minutes on her commute.
But what she called “convenient,” I called “destruction.”
Within weeks, my once-pristine lawn was torn up — grass crushed, dirt patches everywhere, and one of my prize rose bushes was completely flattened after her SUV rolled over it.
I left her a polite note:
“Would you mind avoiding driving over my yard? It’s really damaging the grass and plants. Thanks!”
The next day?
Same tire tracks.
Same damage.
Just added insult to injury.
So I escalated.
I put up a small sign that read:
“Private Property – No Trespassing”
She ignored it.
Then came the rubber snakes, strategically placed near the edge of the yard to scare her off. She laughed and drove over them.
At this point, I knew politeness wasn’t going to work.
So I decided to fight landscaping with creativity.
I installed a fake mailbox right in the path she always took — painted it bright red and labeled it “NEIGHBORHOOD MAIL.” She drove over it without hesitation.
Undeterred, I went bigger.
I built a mini fence — nothing too tall, just enough to make a statement. I even added a tiny gate with a sign that said:
“Please Use Sidewalk. Thank You!”
She backed up, looked at it for a second… then drove around it.
That’s when I realized: if she wanted to play dumb, I’d have to go all-in.
So I bought a motion-activated speaker and set it up near the lawn. Whenever she pulled up, it blasted:
“This is not your driveway. Please respect private property.”
Her face? Priceless.
Still, she kept coming.
Eventually, I stopped trying to stop her — and started making money off her.
I installed a little wooden booth at the edge of my yard with a sign that read:
“Shortcut Fee: $1 Per Use”
Inside was a jar and a handwritten note:
“Cash only. Funds go toward lawn repair :)”
To my surprise… she dropped in a dollar.
And kept doing it.
Day after day.
One morning, I finally saw her walking over to my door with a cup of coffee and a sheepish smile.
“I guess I owe you an apology,” she said. “I never thought you’d actually make me pay.”
I smiled back.
“Well, now you know — trespassing isn’t free.”
She hasn’t driven over my yard since.
And as of last week, I’ve made $74 in shortcut fees.
Sometimes, revenge doesn’t come with yelling or lawsuits.
Sometimes, it comes with a toll booth.