The Committee

I live in a community that operates with a democratically elected committee to head our housing association, a committee I've been on before and may end up on again.

Why?

Because I got curious and answered my phone when it sang.

Where is my mentor to teach me how to navigate this life without answering my phone when it sings?

But backing it up for those of you new to the term, a committee for a housing association is more or less like a board for a condominium except that housing associations have fewer common elements and aren't covered by the Condominium Act.

Trust me, one man's "red tape" is another woman's "We Need Some Kind of Regulatory Guidance Over Here - STAT!"

In our case we only have two common elements: 1) roofs, and 2) parking lots. The thing is, since one of our two elements is parking lots, we may as well own each other's everything for all the likelihood there will ever be peace among neighbours. That's because parking lots are for cars and people love their cars way more than they even like their neighbours, if they even like their neighbours at all, which they don't. That's because, thanks to cars, everybody hates everybody.

Forget road rage. That's just a one off. Parking lot rage is forever. And our particular community, built in the '50s as public housing and sold off as is in the '90s to the people living in them, we have feuds going back seventy years.

Seventy years of raging at each other over parking.

And their neighbours' visitors. Oh man, don't get me started on how much they hate their neighbours' visitors. Why? Because every member of a housing association believes themselves to be the exception to the rule that visitors' parking is for visitors only - not homeowners or their tenants - visitors. Only. And that visitor is taking up parking meant for them, and by them they mean their wife's car or their son's car or a car they're parking for a friend.

A second vehicle, as it were.

But one parking spot, people - that's what you agreed to when you bought your house - one parking spot.

Anyway, the irony of me ever being on the committee in the first place is that we (My Blond Companion, whom I shall reference here on occasion, and I) don't even own a car. But it was early days and one of those rare annual general meetings where there's not just quorum, there's a mob wanting to toss out the old committee and elect a new one.

I fell for it. Flattered. Like a fool. And it was four nightmarish years of horribleness with a year off and then another nightmarish year of horribleness that ended with me stacking my ridiculous pile of documents and walking out of the annual general meeting.

Then I resigned.

And when I did it felt great because I told myself that I was leaving everything behind well in hand.

Except, if I was leaving everything behind well in hand, why did I walk out of an AGM and then resign?

Ah yes, it all came back to me as I ended the call.

So here I am. Just back from walking the dog and oh so casually popping in on an old adversary whose life I'd like to ruin by asking him to join me on - dunh dunh dunh duhhh - The Committee.

Yeah, I'll keep you posted.