HOA Karen Steals My Electricity for Her Greenhouse | EntitledPeople Reddit
Hey everyone—this is my first time posting something like this, but after everything that’s happened, I need to get it all off my chest. My name isn’t important, and I hope you’ll understand why I’m keeping a low profile by the end of this. Let’s just say I moved out of the city about a year ago, looking for some peace and quiet in a suburban neighborhood under the reign of a Homeowners Association (HOA). People warned me HOAs could be strict, but I never imagined I’d find myself in the middle of something so bizarre, so hush-hush, that I’d question whether I was living in some kind of suburban noir. I’d spent most of my adult life in a large, bustling city—one of those places that’s always moving and doesn’t wait for you to catch up. While it was exciting, there came a point when the constant noise, traffic, and frenetic pace started wearing me down. I was craving space, a backyard, maybe a small garden, and the solace of birds chirping instead of sirens wailing. I found the house after months of searching online. It was in a quiet neighborhood about twenty minutes outside a smaller city. The houses all looked well-kept, practically in unison with manicured lawns and matching mailboxes, but I’d heard from the realtor that the HOA here was “involved.” Normally, people say that like it’s a selling point: “Great community events, strict rules to keep property values high!” That’s the pitch. And naive me, I thought it sounded perfect. I pictured friendly neighbors barbecuing, potlucks on weekends, kids playing safely in the cul-de-sac—exactly the antidote I needed after the chaos of city living. In my previous line of work, I was an insurance claims investigator. That probably sounds dull, but it required serious attention to detail—sifting through documents, verifying statements, and noticing tiny discrepancies that could reveal fraud. After a decade of that, I have an eye for things that don’t add up. I can’t help it. It’s like an involuntary reflex at this point. Something else you should know: I’m pretty frugal and extremely conscious of how I use resources. Call it a quirk or an obsession, but I hate wasting electricity. I unplug appliances I’m not using, replace all my lightbulbs with LEDs, and basically live like I’m trying to sneak under some imaginary usage cap. Part of that is also environmental concern—energy consumption is a big deal, right? So, every time I see my monthly bills, I comb through them, making sure the charges align with my actual usage. Another trait, which people either find endearing or annoying, is that I’m hyper-alert to any forms of petty authority or inconsistencies. It’s leftover from my days investigating all sorts of claims. If someone tries to push me around with questionable reasoning, I can’t let it go. I have to see what’s really going on. I met the HOA president, who I internally dubbed “Karen” but eventually learned was actually named Carolyn, within days of moving in. She seemed to be waiting for me the moment the moving truck pulled away. She knocked on my door…