Last week, I came home a few times to something that didn’t sit right with me. An extension lead—bright orange, impossible to miss—was running from my neighbor’s garage straight into the socket on the back of my house.
I unplugged it the first time, assuming it was a one-off mistake. Maybe he thought it was his. Maybe he was in a rush. I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt.
But the second time, I actually caught him in the act.
“Mate, that’s my power you’re using,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “It’s on my meter.”
He didn’t apologize. He didn’t even look embarrassed. Instead, he laughed—actually laughed—and waved it off with, “C’mon, man. It’s only pennies!”
That should’ve been the end of it. Except it wasn’t.
A couple of days later, while I was out, he did it again. No shame, no hesitation. Just helped himself like my home was his personal charging station. That’s when I’d had enough. I bought a lockable cover for the outdoor socket and installed it. Not to be dramatic—just to protect my own property.
