Retired Teacher Grows Tired People Using His Pool Without Consent—So He Decides To Teach Them A Lesson, photo 3

The breaking point came on a Tuesday. Arthur had ventured out for just two hours to buy groceries. When he returned, a bright blue t-shirt was draped over Martha’s favorite lounge chair. It was still damp, smelling of sweat and his own pool’s chlorine.

Arthur didn’t call the police. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. The next morning, he saw Brent in the driveway, loading a cooler into his SUV. He was wearing the blue shirt.

Arthur approached the fence, his voice steady but thin. “Excuse me, Brent. I believe you left this on my patio yesterday. I’d appreciate it if you stayed on your side of the hedge. The pool is private, and the chemicals can be dangerous if you don’t know the schedule.”

Brent didn’t even look up from his cooler. He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “You’re seeing things, old man. Maybe it’s time for a home? We don’t want your pool. It smells like a retirement center over there anyway.” Tiffany, watching from the porch, added, “Maybe the wind blew the shirt over. Get a hobby, Arthur.”