I told her. What did she say? Pete laughed. She asked me to put it in writing. Did you?
Yep. What' you write? Yes, I laughed. She sounds exhausting, Pete said. You've spoken to her once.
"Exactly." That was Denise's strategy. She didn't need to officially stop anything. She only needed to make helping me feel risky. By Wednesday night, two tables, one canopy, and a few chairs had disappeared from my volunteer list.
Not catastrophic, but effective. Howard Bell, our HOA treasurer, hadn't issued any notice that I knew about that mattered. Howard was the opposite of "Denise." Quiet, careful, the kind of man who could sit through a 90-minute board meeting and use fewer than 30 words. So, I started wondering how much of this was actually coming from the board.
I called Bear. Still at "Fifty." 48 confirmed. "Two messages. Denise has been calling people about us, mostly."
What does she say that you're unpredictable? Bear went quiet then we are. I rubbed my forehead. "That isn't helping." We haven't decided where we're eating after your place.
I laughed. "Fair." Then he got serious. You want us to cancel? No wounded pride, no challenge, just a question.
I looked at the volunteer list. "No." You sure? "Yeah." We'll keep it low-key.
No unnecessary revving, no blocked driveways, nobody gives your neighbors trouble. "Thank you." If anybody in our group causes a problem, tell me. That was the moment I stopped worrying about Bear. Unfortunately, I still had 50 motorcycles to worry about.
Thursday morning. I thought I'd solve that, too. A small commercial property outside the neighborhood had a paved overflow area that sat empty on weekends. The owner, Carl, knew Frank. He agreed to let the riders park there.
Perfect. Off the residential streets close enough to walk. No blocked driveways, no motorcycles on lawns. Then Thursday afternoon, Carl called. Jack.
Hey, there was a pause. I knew. I'm sorry, but I can't let you use the lot Saturday. What happened? I got a call.
"Denise." She said she's president of your HOA. She said, "There are concerns this could turn into some unauthorized rally. Traffic complaints, liability, accidents. I kept my voice level.
Carl, nobody's asking you to take responsibility for the event. "I know." Another pause, but I don't want trouble. There it was. Denise's entire strategy in four words.
I don't want trouble. I couldn't blame Carl. He didn't owe me the lot. Saturday was less than 48 hours away. 50 motorcycles couldn't simply arrive on a residential street and hope geometry worked itself out.
The obvious answer was to cut the group. 10 riders, maybe 15. The fundraiser would still happen. We'd still raise money, but I'd know why 35 people weren't there. I called Bear.
Parking fell through. "Denise." Looks like it. "All right." I think we need to cut the group to 15 bikes."
"I can do that." I looked through the windshield. Normal houses, normal lawns. Exactly the quiet picture Denise wanted. Bear said, "Nobody's going to hold it against you."