When I lived at the Sage Pointe Condominiums, the truth was simple: there were no real rules. The Declaration contained only a handful of vague guidelines, none of which carried penalties, financial or otherwise. In practice, nothing had any teeth; no bite.
What we did have was the Infractions Team, a small group of older ladies who enforced whatever they personally disliked. If something offended their sensibilities, it instantly became a “rule,” and the offending neighbor was told to cease and desist. Their grievances ranged from the trivial to the absurd, such as declaring certain bumper stickers on residents’ cars to be violations simply because the messages clashed with their unholy beliefs. Those errant residents were then threatened with legal action.
Meanwhile, these same enforcers stored their own holiday decorations, bicycles, and medical equipment in the common-area closets with complete impunity. They walked their dogs off the leash. They grilled pork chops on their balconies with open flames. They filled staircases with their potted plants. No reprimands. No consequences. No surprise. It was the classic Rules for Thee and Not for Me dynamic, and everyone knew it.
One of the few written directives concerned garbage disposal. For years, printed signs were taped to the garbage-room doors in the underground garage. They instructed residents to place all trash in securely tied plastic bags and to dispose of furniture and large items privately, never in the dumpsters.
As the buildings filled with more residents (there was an ebb and flow with the population), the dumpsters began overflowing just two days after pickup. At a homeowners’ association meeting, a member of the Care and Upkeep Team scolded the community for tossing unbagged trash and furniture into the dumpsters. The remarks were recorded in the official minutes.
A couple of weeks later, I went down to throw out my own securely bagged garbage. I glanced into the dumpster, and there it was. A mountain of loose junk: files, hanging folders, workbooks, an American flag, Navy memorabilia, and other unbagged débris. Because the book titles were visible, it was unmistakably the personal clutter of the very same Care and Upkeep Team member who had lectured everyone else about dumping unbagged garbage!
It was a perfect illustration of the deleterious culture at Sage Pointe: rules for thee and not for me. Others were expected to follow the posted guidelines. Certain individuals, however, exempted themselves entirely.
They were special!
The Oasis in the Desert 