I asked my upstairs neighbor three different times to stop tossing used tea bags onto my balcony. The first time,…

be worse.”

---

Then he closed the door.

I remained in the hallway for several seconds.

That conversation bothered me more than the tea bags themselves.

For eleven years, I had tried to be the kind of neighbor people could depend on.

---

I watered plants when people traveled.

Accepted deliveries.

Looked after pets.

Signed for packages.

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I had even collected this man’s parcels throughout the previous winter whenever he wasn’t home.

Yet he couldn’t manage the basic courtesy of using his own trash can.

Standing outside his apartment, I realized something else.

Getting angry wouldn’t accomplish anything.

---

If I shouted or caused a scene, he could simply tell everyone that the woman downstairs had completely overreacted because of a few harmless tea bags.

I wasn’t going to give him that opportunity.

Instead, I decided to give him one final chance.

If nothing landed on my balcony the following morning, I would

---

forget the entire situation.

At exactly 7:04 a.m., I heard a familiar sound.

*Plop.*

I stepped outside.

---

There it was.

NEXT PAGE

A freshly used tea bag sitting beside my flowerpots.

I looked at it for several seconds.

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Then, strangely, I smiled.

I went back inside.

Made myself coffee.

Sat at the kitchen table.

---

And started thinking.

By the time I finished my cup, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

Nothing destructive.

Nothing that would get me into trouble.

---

And definitely no screaming match in the hallway.

I simply needed a way to make him understand that what seemed insignificant from his balcony was becoming someone else’s problem below.

It took me most of that afternoon to get everything ready.

The following morning, I woke up early.

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By 6:55, I was already sitting outside.

Coffee in one hand.

My phone within reach.

And absolutely

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no intention of knocking on apartment 4B for a fourth time.