When my mom was growing up (and even when I was little) my grandparents lived in a house in a city outside of Boston. Behind their single family house was a triple-decker apartment building. My grandparents yard was fenced, but the triple-decker loomed over the backyard.
The people in the triple-decker were always throwing trash and debris into my grandparent’s yard (which my aunt would then eat off the ground, but don’t tell her I told you that). It made my grandparent’s pretty peeved, as you can imagine.
My grandfather was telling us about it and said one day he was out there and a shoe came flying into the yard. So he went over there and checked every apartment until he figured out who threw it.
“I went to every apartment! Ran up three floors! But I found the guy. Third floor.”
“What happened when you found him?”
“Well, let’s just say he got his shoe back.”