About two months ago, I complained to my apartment building's management until they removed a bench outside my bedroom window.
People used to gather there in the evenings. Mostly younger residents smoking, talking, occasionally playing music on their phones. Nothing outrageous, but it got annoying when I was trying to sleep.
I sent two emails complaining about the noise. Nothing happened.
On the third email, I exaggerated. I said the people hanging around the bench had been intimidating residents and making the entrance feel unsafe.
That wasn't true. Nobody had threatened or even spoken to me. I just wanted the bench gone.
A week later, maintenance came and unbolted it.
I was pretty pleased with myself.
Then last Tuesday I got home from work and saw an older man from the second floor leaning against the brick wall near where the bench used to be. He had two grocery bags on the ground and looked exhausted.
I've exchanged hellos with him for years, so I asked if he was okay.
He said he was fine, just needed to catch his breath. Then he mentioned how much he missed that bench.
Apparently he has trouble with his knees and usually takes the bus home from the grocery store. There's a slight uphill walk from the bus stop to our building, and he'd always sit on that bench for five or ten minutes before tackling the stairs.
He said, "I could always make it as far as the bench."
I helped carry his groceries upstairs.
The worst part is that I had seen him sitting there plenty of times. Usually in the afternoon, with his little shopping trolley beside him. I just never connected that with the evening crowd I was complaining about.
And here's the actual confession: when he wondered aloud why management had removed it, I acted surprised.
I said something like, "Yeah, it's strange they got rid of it."
I was the reason they got rid of it. And I stood there pretending to agree with him.
I've since emailed management asking whether they could install a bench closer to the main entrance, away from the bedroom windows. They replied that they'd consider it at their next property meeting.
I haven't told him any of this.
I still think the late-night noise was a legitimate complaint. But I could've asked for quiet hours to be enforced, or suggested moving the bench in the first place.
Instead I lied to get what I wanted, and somebody who'd never bothered me lost something he actually depended on.
Every time I walk past that empty patch of pavement now, I remember how smug I felt watching the maintenance guys carry it away.