PART 1
My name is Jordan Ellis, and for the past two years I’ve lived in The Hawthorne, a mid-sized apartment complex in Austin, Texas. It’s a decent place — good location, gym, pool, and most importantly, assigned parking spots that residents pay extra for every month. My spot, number 147, is right next to the elevator lobby in the covered garage. After dealing with street parking in my previous building, having a guaranteed, shaded spot felt like a small luxury I was willing to pay $85 a month for.
Then came Derek.
Derek moved into unit 312 in early January. He drove a loud, lifted black Toyota Tacoma with oversized tires and those annoying bright LED headlights. From the very first week, he started stealing my parking spot. Every single morning. I would leave for work at 6:40 a.m. and find his truck parked perfectly centered in spot 147. My own car would be forced into the visitor section at the far end of the garage, exposed to the Texas sun and rain, or sometimes I’d have to circle the block looking for street parking.
At first, I tried to be reasonable. I left a polite note on his windshield: “Hey man, this is my assigned spot 147. Could you please use your own? Thanks!” The next morning, his truck was back in my spot and the note was gone. I tried again with a firmer note. Same result. I reported it to management multiple times. They sent him warning emails, but nothing changed. Derek clearly didn’t care.
This went on for eight long months. Rain or shine, weekdays and weekends. Some mornings I would actually catch him in the act — he’d pull into my spot at 6:20 a.m., hop out like he owned the place, and stroll inside without a care. When I confronted him once in the garage, he just smirked and said, “Relax bro, it’s just parking. You’ll live.” Then he walked away.
The constant stress started affecting me. I was late to work several times. I got parking tickets on the street. My car’s interior was baking in the sun every day. My blood pressure rose every time I saw that black truck sitting where my car belonged. The pettiness of it all ate at me. Management was useless — they said as long as he moved it before towing hours, there was nothing they could do.
I decided it was time to stop being nice.
PART 2
I spent weeks planning the most petty, legal, and satisfying revenge possible. I wanted something that would annoy him as much as he annoyed me, but on a whole new level.
First, I bought a high-quality dash cam and a small hidden camera that I mounted discreetly on a pillar facing my parking spot. I documented everything — dates, times, photos of his truck in my spot, and security footage from the building (which management finally gave me after I threatened to break my lease).
Then I got creative.
I started waking up at 5:45 a.m. every day. I would quietly move my car into my assigned spot at 6:00 a.m. sharp — right after the night security guard finished his rounds. As soon as Derek came down at 6:20, he would find my car sitting there. He couldn’t do anything because it was my legal spot. He would honk, wait, then eventually park in the visitor area or on the street.
But that was only the beginning.
I bought a large inflatable palm tree (the kind used for parties) and placed it directly behind my car every morning, completely blocking him from squeezing in even if he tried. I also placed bright orange traffic cones with “Reserved – Tow Away” signs that I had custom-made (perfectly legal since it was my assigned spot). Every single morning became a game of him trying to find a way around my setup.
Derek started leaving angry notes on my car. He keyed my door once (which I caught on camera). He complained to management, but they were now on my side after seeing eight months of evidence.
The real masterpiece came in month nine.
I noticed Derek always left for work at exactly 7:05 a.m. So I coordinated with two friends who also lived in the building. Every morning at 7:00 a.m., we would park our three cars — perfectly legally — in all the spots surrounding his usual visitor area, leaving him no room to maneuver. We did this Monday through Friday like clockwork.
But the pettiest part was the music.
I installed a small Bluetooth speaker hidden under my car that played the most annoying song on repeat — “Baby Shark” on loop at low volume, just loud enough to be irritating when he approached. The camera caught him every time he tried to find his truck, getting more and more furious as the song played.
PART 3
The breaking point came on a rainy Thursday morning in October.
Derek came storming down to the garage at 6:25 a.m. to find my car in spot 147, the giant inflatable palm tree behind it, traffic cones all around, and “Baby Shark” playing softly. His face turned bright red. He started kicking the cones, then punched the air in rage. He screamed every curse word imaginable while my hidden camera recorded everything in crystal clear 4K.
He completely lost it.
He called a tow truck, but when the driver arrived and saw it was my legal assigned spot, he refused to tow my car. Derek then tried to squeeze his big truck into a tiny gap between two cars and ended up scraping his own door badly against a concrete pillar. The sound of metal grinding was beautiful.
The entire meltdown was captured from three different angles.
That evening, I edited the video into a perfectly timed 90-second masterpiece set to dramatic music. I posted it anonymously in the building’s private Facebook group with the caption: “When you steal someone’s assigned spot for 8 months straight…” It went viral within the complex instantly. Over 200 residents saw it. People were tagging each other, laughing, and commenting with fire emojis.
The next morning, Derek’s truck was gone. He had parked it on the street two blocks away. For the first time in months, my spot was free when I went down.
Management finally took action. They issued Derek a formal lease violation notice with the video evidence attached. Two weeks later, he broke his lease and moved out in the middle of the night. The last anyone saw of him was his truck loaded with boxes speeding out of the garage at 2 a.m.
I still have the video saved. Sometimes I watch it when I need a good laugh. My parking spot has been peaceful and respected ever since.
The moral of the story? Some people only understand consequences when they’re delivered with maximum pettiness and perfect documentation.
Never underestimate the power of patience, cameras, and “Baby Shark” on repeat.
The End