My wife and I live in a strata. A fancy way of saying we live in a community with shared common areas like gardens, pools, a gym etc. Living in a community like this is great: you don’t need to cut the grass or clean the pool, and the cost of having access to these nice things is shared by a large group of people.
But if you’ve ever met a human, and I’ve come to know a few, you may have noticed that when you get a large group of them together, they tend to find things to disagree on. This column is about one such disagreement.
Mapping It Out
This is an illustration of one of the buildings in our strata. You will notice that there is a lovely pathway leading into each of the units and some landscaping around it. In the Year of our Lord 2024, one of the neighbours in this building did not like using the path. Instead, they preferred to get out of their car and walk directly along the grass to get to their door, saving them a whopping 10 steps per day. Let’s call this neighbour Shortcut Neighbour.
The neighbour in this unit did not appreciate having people traipsing up and down right in front of their living room, so they decided that considering the developers had put landscaping on the other end of the building, it was only fair that they added some landscaping of their own, blocking anybody wanting to walk through there. We’ll call this neighbour Get Off My Lawn Neighbour.
This incensed Shortcut Neighbour, who immediately complained to the Strata Executive Committee (ExCo) – a very fancy name for the poor fools who have signed up to help run this circus, for free I might add.
The ExCo Decides
The ExCo debated this important matter and, after some back and forth, decided it was only fair to have this area landscaped considering there was already a perfectly acceptable path intended for walking. The residents of the ground-floor unit could benefit from not having to live their entire life in the dark behind some curtains just to get a little privacy.
One of Shortcut Neighbour’s complaints was that the plants were dangerous for children and pets due to thorns. My guess is they were probably acutely aware of this because they were attempting to walk through the bushes instead of walking around them. Landscapers were called. More appropriate plants were planted. But Shortcut Neighbour was having none of it. They continued to walk right over the now safer plants in protest, killing the innocent oxygen providers and saving those precious calories for way more important things than walking.
Let’s give Shortcut Neighbour a little credit here. Let’s say ten steps a day takes an extra 8 seconds. 8 seconds over 365 days is the equivalent of 49 minutes. That’s almost enough time to get through an episode of your favourite series. All wasted on something as frivolous as walking.
The tireless ExCo convened once again to assess the situation. The loss of plant life was not only a cruel casualty of this war but an expensive one for the strata to keep replacing. So they decided to erect a fence. Given Shortcut Neighbour’s distaste for exercise, it was unlikely they would be hopping over the fence, making this a suitable solution for Get Off My Lawn Neighbour and allowing new plant life the opportunity to thrive untrampled if it so wished.
Once again, Shortcut Neighbour was outraged and continued to protest, impervious to the fact that their quest to save 8 seconds a day was now taking over their entire life. In 2025, the ExCo generously proposed to remove the fence once some new planting was successfully established. Shortcut Neighbour was having none of it, claiming favouritism towards Get Off My Lawn Neighbour. The e-mails flew back and forth, adding more carbon dioxide to the atmosphere than the trampled plants could remove.
The AGM
During the 2026 Annual General Meeting (AGM), the fence drama became the main item on the agenda, in spite of our strata manager trying his damnedest to keep it on track.
Usually the meeting centres around that neighbour who wants to prove they know how to read a financial statement. They spend most of the call asking a million dumb questions about each line on the report while we all scream on mute for it to stop. So this was refreshing.
Shortcut Neighbour took to the floor, interrupting almost every point brought up to discuss the very upsetting fence debacle. They had clearly prepared long and hard for the AGM and wanted to ensure they were heard. They interrupted the ExCo election to ensure we all knew how evil the fence decision was, and went so far as to try and change how often somebody could serve in this thankless position – perhaps in a diabolical plot to get themselves in the powerful seat.
While we had watched our ExCo members consistently go above and beyond to make our home better, Shortcut Neighbour was challenging their honour. My wife told me to say something. I was not getting involved in the madness. She threatened to do it herself if I didn’t. I told her not to get involved; we’re already fighting with our upstairs neighbour who got upset that we told them off for letting their dog pee on another neighbour’s Audi. Appalled by my spineless inaction, my wife valiantly unmuted us to defend them.
“Sorry, could you explain why you feel the need to walk in front of your neighbour’s living room?” There was an awkward pause. Flummoxed by the direct question, Shortcut Neighbour waffled on about common property and having the right to walk wherever they want. “Sorry,” she said — it was a Canadian apology, not a real one — “why is it such a big deal to take a few extra steps to avoid walking in front of your neighbour’s living room?”
I didn’t know what to do with myself: thrilled by watching the crazy person be questioned directly, but absolutely appalled that my Zoom was being used to enter into a conflict so ridiculously mundane some idiot will write about it on Substack one day. I began pacing around the dining room table as Shortcut Neighbour repeated the speech about their rights and I repeatedly told my wife that I could not believe she had just called them out. The dog looked up at me in concern. “To each their own,” my wife said at the end of another rant, ignoring my circling, “I just don’t get it.”
Shortcut Neighbour called for a vote. But it was too late. The madness had been called out. A vote was taken on the fence saga. The people voted for the fence to stay. Meeting adjourned. The neighbour who had been reviewing the financial statements all night did not get a chance to speak.
It’s Still Not Over
Shortcut Neighbour does not appreciate democracy when it doesn’t swing in their favour. They have now invested so much time into this endeavour that not saving those 8 seconds for the remainder of their life may destroy them. So, a few months later, as the saga entered its third year and more e-mails flew back and forth, Shortcut Neighbour declared that they will take their grievance public if their demands are not met.
While I’m not entirely sure how embarrassing yourself island-wide will assist in your plight, in a true democracy, everyone has the right to make their voice heard.
Will they be ridiculous enough to make such a public spectacle over ten extra steps?
If I can write over a thousand words about it, they just might.
*Besides living in this strata, we do not personally know any of the neighbours involved in this kerfuffle, nor have we spoken to the ExCo directly. This ridiculous story is retold from an outsider’s perspective based on ExCo communications circulated to residents and the very many rants Shortcut Neighbour presented during the AGM. Its ridiculous nature was too human and too silly not to share.