She Stole My Milk. Then Her Lawyer Sent a Demand Letter.

I logged into my farm delivery account and made a crucial change. I disabled the automatic credit card deduction and switched my account preference to "In-Person Cash Payment Only."

If the driver couldn't hand it to me directly and collect the cash, they wouldn't leave the product.

Sunday morning, my doorbell rang at 5:50 AM. I answered it, handed the driver a crisp twenty-dollar bill, and took my cold, glass bottles of milk directly into my kitchen.

It tasted sweeter than usual.

Around 6:15 AM, I stood by my kitchen window, sipping my coffee. The hidden camera app pinged.

I watched the live feed as Beatrice did her ridiculous military crawl onto my porch. She reached up, opened the cooler, and froze.

She frantically felt around inside the empty box. Then, forgetting about the cameras entirely, she stood up, ripping off her black mask. Her face was flushed with pure, unadulterated outrage.

She glared at my front door, her chest heaving. I simply raised my coffee mug from behind the glass of my kitchen window, offering her a mock salute.

Our eyes met. She looked absolutely furious that her free ride was over. She spun around and marched back to her house, stomping heavily.

I thought that was the end of it. The thief was caught, the supply was cut off, and the neighborhood could go back to normal.

I was completely wrong.

Three days later, I came home from work to find a thick, rigid envelope wedged firmly into the crack of my front door.

It wasn't standard mail. It had been hand-delivered by a courier.

I pulled it out and flipped it over. The return address in the top left corner made my stomach drop. It was embossed with heavy, gold lettering.

Vance & Montgomery - Attorneys at Law.

I tore open the seal, pulling out a thick stack of legal documents. The first page was a formal Cease and Desist, but it was the bold text on the second page that made the breath catch in my throat.

It was a notice of intent to sue, naming me as the defendant.