And then I set my alarm for six-thirty.
I was out on my balcony before seven.
The morning was cold and clear — the kind of January morning that has a quality of stillness to it, the city not yet fully awake, the light still deciding what it was going to be. I had my coffee, my good coat, and my phone on the table beside me, face up, so I could see the screen without reaching for it.
I sat very quietly.
I was waiting for D. Hartley to come out onto his balcony with his tea.
At six minutes past seven, I heard him. The balcony door above me — a specific sound I knew well by then, the particular drag of that door on its runner — opened, and there was the brief quiet of a man standing in the morning air with his mug.
I did not look up.
I did not do anything that would draw his attention to the fact that I was there.
At seven minutes past seven, the tea bag came over the rail.
I picked up my phone.
I took a video.
Not a long one. Twelve seconds. The tea bag on my balcony floor, my hand entering the frame to point to it, the camera tilting up to show the balcony above mine, the date and time display visible on the screen. Twelve seconds of clear, unambiguous, timestamped documentation.I submitted it to the complaint portal as a supplemental attachment before I went inside to make breakfast.
What happened over the following three weeks was not dramatic.
Drama, I have found, is what happens when people handle things emotionally rather than systematically. Drama is raised voices on landings. Drama is the woman downstairs losing her mind over a tea bag. Drama is satisfying in the moment and expensive in the long run.
What happened instead was administrative.
The management company acknowledged my formal complaint within forty-eight hours, as the process specified. They indicated that the complaint had been logged and that the relevant tenant would be contacted. I received a reference number.
Six days later I received a follow-up indicating that a letter had been sent to the tenant in 4B regarding the complaint and the relevant lease clauses.Three days after that, I found no tea bag on my balcony.
Three mornings. No tea bags.
On the fourth morning I was not watching — I had a dentist appointment and was not out on the balcony at seven — and I don’t know whether one came over. On the fifth morning I was watching and nothing came.
