The Winter of My Discordtent

RavenRyder102: This isn’t what I signed up for.

I typed but then deleted. Discovering 100-plus notifications from my homeowners association’s Discord server seemed like an unprecedented level of . . . discord . . . for our building’s residents.

*ding-ding*

Something chirped from somewhere. The app? I rarely use it, so I wouldn’t know. Today, I especially wasn’t interested in it.

Back to the chat.

HollyHillsHappyHomes is where everything happens. It’s where our board shares reminders for upcoming meetings, construction projects, and security issues. Like when the mail was constantly being stolen. Mail couriers—no matter the company and despite explicit directions not to—they just piled our packages in the hallway. Mt. Holly Hills Mail was visible from the street, a target to local thieves. The initial response was a call for increased vigilance. Classic “see something, say something” posts were blasted into Discord, and handwritten “Stealing mail is a federal crime” posters were affixed to the walls by the mailboxes with painter’s or packing tape. Laughably, the “To Mail Couriers: Please do not leave packages in the hallway. They are being stolen!” signs outside of the building were more of an enticement than a deterrent.

*ding-ding*

Seriously, what was that noise? I turned off my volume.

The HollyHillsHappyHomes Discord is also where community members convene to weigh in on all of the above. Well, “weigh in” is an understatement. It’s where residents complain, criticize proposed solutions, and create conflict on repeat. They endlessly ask for more to be done but for lower dues. It comes in waves, too. New owners want to know why there isn’t better signage, more amenities (why so many requests for a sauna?), or a social community coordinator. New renters want to know if anyone wants to switch parking spots (we don’t), if anyone has a toolset to borrow (we do, but grow up and get your own), or who can let them in because they’re locked out. We old-timers, owners of all ages who have lived here three years or longer, are in this chat with the same thought: If the building isn’t flooding or on fire, leave me out of this.

*ding-ding*

What was that noise?!

So, about our building: We have 52 units across seven floors. Most are renters. When a series of “subletters” began to resemble a crew of NSFW influencers (whose paraphernalia was left in our lobby, elevator, and stairwell), we imposed a strict ban on short-term rentals. This means everyone signs a lease, and there are no weekend flybys. No Airbnb, no VRBO, no Vacasa. Failure to register a renter, to process a proper application and provide proof of a lease, incurs a fine of $750 per day.

How is this enacted? If a guest is spotted with a suitcase, you get reported. Not by an official authority, just by our hallway monitors. Most often, it’s Beatrice and Kevin, whose retirement life has gifted them infinite time to roam each floor under the guise of “safety” and “camaraderie” (aka pure nosiness). I wish this led to improved safety, but it usually amounts to Beatrice constantly inquiring if any long-haired, bearded male in the building is a vagrant and Kevin texting “Suitcaser spotted” to our board members at least weekly. (Given his diligence, you would think he got the $750 in commission.)

*ding-ding*

I checked the app notifications. They are muted. Of course they are, or I’d have been driven to madness already. As if the Discord conversations weren’t maddening enough.

Back to our building. While we limit the types of renters we have, we can’t limit how many. We keep failing to negotiate a rental cap because the majority of owners must be present to make a quorum, so we will never get there. Until an emergency forces our hand, we never get anywhere. For example, when the third-floor laundry room flooded and emergency response was mandatory, we were able to elect, without a quorum, to repurpose the space for a mailroom (thanks in part to a clear cost, safety, and security justification). The room was outfitted with a series of lockers. The dream sold to us was that mail couriers would be able to deposit packages—with ease and efficiency!—and recipients would get a notification via an app or email. It sounded divine. Spoiler alert: It is not divine.

First, unregistered renters—those with inattentive landlords who failed to register them (the majority), “cousins” just crashing on a relative’s couch for a few days, and the rare “entrepreneur” willing to pay [extra] cash for discretion—were not registered with the board, so they did not get notifications. This led most of them to hastily join the Discord, where no one could help them, and they eventually had to find their landlord and become legit renters or abandon their Amazon delivery. (I often wonder what treasures will reside there for eternity.) Additionally, and unthinkably to many of our kind-hearted residents, many couriers are rushed by delivery times (and probably annoyed by our signage and complaints) and they simply leave the packages beside the lockers (almost mocking us). A photo of a bubble wrapper next to a locker was enough to check the box. So, the solution was, again, an impassioned post for our vigilance:

It is the responsibility of all US to train delivery couriers to use our package lockers correctly. Most carriers are improving, but they all remain challenging. Our lockers have been actively pushing them to comply with our delivery procedures.

If your package is left outside the lockers, please report it directly to the carrier (FedEx, UPS, Amazon, etc.) and note that the driver did not follow building delivery procedures. If you can speak with couriers during delivery, politely remind them of the value they bring and the top-notch ratings we give for a proper delivery.

*ding-ding*

It’s not the app, and I don’t even know if it’s coming from inside the house.

Whatever the rules, we still have a lot of mishandled mail and a lot of renters—an estimated 60 percent of the units. We also have a lot of turnover with landlords, owners of said rented units, who rarely care about rules, conditions, or anything. Renters care not for how updated and well-kept our grounds are. They care not for attending meetings to vote on initiatives. They hardly care about dues. But it seems the mail mayhem suddenly had everyone entering the chat, literally and figuratively.

I scrolled up to see what I had missed.

SkiBum95 has just shown up. Wave to say Hi!

SunnyHoney has just shown up. Wave to say Hi!

DeezNutz has just shown up. Wave to say Hi!

NoNameUnit402 has just shown up. Wave to say Hi!

This went on for nearly 20 more participants (that’s some sort of quorum!). Most I didn’t know but some I could decode based on allusion to their unit number, birth year, or hobby in their handle. ShellyLuvsPlants405 was obviously the plant lady from the fourth floor. However, I still don’t know what or who LintTrap32 is, besides perhaps a laundry enthusiast. The real chat is always Roger, Roger1962, the board chair and unofficial super, who politely(ish) reminds residents of the rules. Beatrice, BeatriceBee, is the busybody from the second floor, who chimes in with misguided advice and still can’t work Discord. And Kevin, KevinTheGuyFrom612, who is the quintessential “get those kids off my lawn” type. While we have no yards and few children in the building, he finds plenty of equivalent things to complain about. For example, when plants are too tall and lilt, “looking lackadaisical in the stairwell” (to which I say the plants are exhausted by your high expectations, Kevin!) or when the cleaning crews leave too much of a zig-zag in on the floors.

*ding-ding*

If I go outside to see where it’s coming from, what if I run into these people?

Anyway, I got to the meat of the conversation. The short of it is simple: Hell is repetition.

SunnyHoney: My package says arrived but I can’t get into the locker. Can you send me the code?

Roger1962: If your phone number or email address and unit number are registered with the HOA, you should receive a code. Contact your landlord and the board at board@hollyhillshomes.com.

SunnyHoney: I’m a renter. How can I get a code without contacting the board?

DeezNutz: I’m having the same problem. I had an important package delivered today and I haven’t received a code. How can I get a code?

SkiBum95: Good morning, I have a package that’s marked delivered but I didn’t get a code. I can sue for this. Tampering with mail is a federal crime.

NoNameUnit402: My renter says they have a package delivered to the lockers but never got a code. Who do I complain to?

ShellyLuvsPlants405: I am downsizing my current family of succulents. Would anyone be interested in adopting?

Roger1962: If your phone number or email address and unit number are registered with the HOA, you should receive a code. Contact your landlord and the board at board@hollyhillshomes.com.

Roger1962: To owners on the line, please be reminded that your renters must complete an application to be processed by the board. Failure to register a renter can result in a $750 per day fee.

SunnyHoney has left the chat.

NoNameUnit402 has left the chat.

BeatriceBee: I don’t recognize any of these names. Are we sure these people are real? We should confirm before we start giving away codes.

KevinTheGuyFrom612: We should review the security cameras to see the packages were really delivered.

BeatriceBee: @Shelly, I would be interested in a plant!

BeatriceBee: Shelly Luvs

BeatriceBee: @ShellyLuvsPlants405

BeatriceBee: I finally got it right! Shelly, I’d love to adopt a plant!

Roger1962: @ShellyLuvsPlants405 and @BeatriceBee, please keep the plant trade to the #sell-and-trade channel.

This went on for what felt like four (hundred) more pages. Renter or landlord enters, Roger reiterates they must be registered. Renters and landlords disappear. (No clue where DeezNutz the lurker ran off to.) And Beatrice pipes in with something not even close to a solution.

*ding-ding*

The noise is definitely coming from outside. I wish it were in my head so I wouldn’t have to enter this thread.

Meanwhile, there were a few breaks to the chat cadence.

TortiesNToeBeans: Anyone want a free automated pet watering dish? Pickles unfortunately passed away and will not be able to enjoy it. 🐱

BeckySoAndSew: I noticed there were several empty shelves in the 4th floor laundry room. What about a Happy Homes Library? 📚 It could include puzzles and games!

Roger1962: If you caught the sound of chainsaws this morning, there's an electrical crew on site doing some pretty significant pruning of the trees at the south end. No Texas massacres to worry about. 😉

*ding-ding*

Now digital-elbow-deep in this chat, I realized that I, too, should have a package in the mailroom. I would have to exit the home, putting myself at risk for seeing these people in the wild.

The mailroom was a familiar sight, with packages piling up like the before times. Upon approaching the lockers, the screen was dark. I poked. Nothing. Poke, poke. Nothing. Poke, poke, poke. Nothing.

*ding-ding*

The sound was so close. I leaned my ear to the lockers. Nothing.

*ding-ding*

Not quite a fire alarm, not quite a carbon monoxide alarm. What alarms were left?

*ding-ding*

Was it getting faster? Was I making this up? I followed it out of the mailroom. Around the corner. Toward the main entrance.

*ding-ding*

There it was. The front door. Now face-to-face with it, it was nearly as loud as a fire alarm. Nearly as loud as the chainsaws. Nearly as nerve-wracking as Discord comments firing off from my phone in my pocket.

It dinged again, now it sounded like an idea sparking as I dashed back to my unit.

RavenRyder102 has just shown up. Wave to say Hi!

RavenRyder102: @Roger1962 the front door alarm is dinging. And it looks like the lockers are turned off.

Roger1962 is typing. . .

Roger1962 is typing. . .

Roger1962 is typing. . .

Suddenly the dots, once pulsing so anxiously on the screen, ceased. The literal and digital silence was deafening.

Roger1962: The power to our auxiliary systems was tripped. Thus, with one swift flip, the power to our kingdom of packages is restored.

RavenRyder102 left the server.

Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual residents, specifically to people in my building, is purely coincidental. If you think a character sounds like you, Beatrice, maybe stop reading into things and stop asking if my Bee-Gee-looking husband belongs in this building.