“Well, grass grows fast in May,” Arthur said.

He clicked a silver pen twice on his notebook.

“Three hundred dollars a month in HOA dues keeps this whole street looking uniform.

We have to hold everyone on the block to the same standard.”

I walked over to the wooden stake that marked the property line and pointed at the iron squat rack sitting on the grass.

“That gym equipment is six inches over my property line,” I said.

“The heavy bag frame is shaking my kitchen window frame.”