I have become an involuntary expert in every HOA drama within a fifteen-mile radius of my office. I know which neighborhood is currently at war over fence heights, which condo board president is embezzling from the pool fund, and exactly which subdivision has the lady who measures everyone's grass with an actual ruler. Buyers never ask about school districts or crime stats anymore. They want to know if the HOA president is "chill" and whether anyone on the board has filed more than three complaints in the past year. Last month I had to explain to a client that yes, the house was perfect, but the HOA had recently banned the color blue for front doors, and I watched her dreams die in real time. I've started pulling HOA meeting minutes as part of my standard research, and let me tell you, those documents read like a soap opera written by someone with a grudge and too much free time. I now know more about my neighbors' petty grievances than I know about my own family. This was not in the job description.