My Upstairs Neighbor Kept Throwing Tea Bags Onto My Balcony—So I Decided to Wait for Him

For months, my upstairs neighbor had been throwing his used tea bags over the balcony.

They always landed on mine.

Twice a day, almost like clockwork.

Around seven in the morning.

Then again around nine at night.

At first, I assumed it was an accident.

I live in an apartment building, so I understand that things can occasionally fall from balconies. A small object can be blown by the wind. Someone can make a mistake.

So when I found the first tea bag on my balcony, I simply picked it up and threw it away.

I didn’t complain.

I didn’t knock on his door.

I didn’t even think much about it.

Then it happened again.

And again.

Eventually, I began noticing the pattern.

The First Conversation

One morning, I discovered a used tea bag sitting on a white bath towel I had left outside to dry.

The tea had soaked into the fabric and left a large brown stain near the center.

That was when I decided it was time to say something.

I went upstairs and knocked on apartment 4B.

When my neighbor opened the door, I tried to keep my tone calm.

“Did you happen to throw a tea bag over your balcony?”

He looked surprised.

“Oh, no. Did I do that?”

“That’s about the sixth one now,” I told him.

He looked embarrassed.

“I’m really sorry. I’m barely awake in the morning. I just flick it over the railing without thinking.”

His response seemed sincere enough.

He apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again.

I accepted the apology.

Then I went back downstairs.

For a moment, I wondered whether I had made too much of the situation.

After all, it was just a tea bag.

I assumed the problem was over.

I was wrong.

It Started Again

The very next morning, another tea bag landed on my balcony.

I saw it sitting near the railing.

I picked it up and threw it away.

I considered going upstairs again, but I decided to give him some time.

Three weeks passed.

I didn’t say anything.

I had lived in this building for eleven years, and I had never been the person who complained about every little thing.

I knew apartment living came with occasional inconveniences.

People make noise.

Packages get delivered to the wrong apartment.

Things sometimes fall from balconies.

You learn to live with certain things.

But then another tea bag landed directly on the cushion of my outdoor chair.

This time, it stayed there long enough for the moisture to soak into the fabric.

The stain was obvious.

I was frustrated.

So I went upstairs again.

The Second Conversation

I knocked on his door.

When he opened it, I explained what had happened.

“You’re still throwing them down.”

He looked at me.

“It’s only a tea bag.”

“It leaves stains,” I replied. “I’ve already had to throw away a towel, and now I’ve ruined a cushion cover.”

He leaned against the door frame.

For a moment, he simply stared at me.

Then he shrugged.

“You live downstairs. That’s how apartment buildings work.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

He laughed.

“You should be thankful it’s tea bags and not something worse.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.”

Then he closed the door.

I stood there for a few seconds.

I was angry, but I didn’t want to give him the reaction he seemed to be looking for.

I had lived in the building for eleven years.

I’d helped neighbors when they needed something.

I’d looked after people’s pets.

I’d accepted packages for other residents.

I’d even collected his deliveries during the winter when he wasn’t home.

I didn’t want a simple balcony problem to turn into a long-running feud.

So I went back downstairs.

I Decided to Give Him One Last Chance

That night, I told myself I would let it go.

If nothing landed on my balcony the next morning, I would forget the entire situation.

Maybe he would finally realize how irritating it was.

Maybe the problem would simply disappear.

But at exactly 7:04 the next morning, another tea bag came flying over the railing.

It landed beside my plant pots.

I stared at it.

For a long time, I didn’t move.

The morning was quiet.

The building was still.

I could hear the faint sounds of people beginning their day.

I picked up the tea bag and walked back inside.

I made myself a cup of coffee.

And while I was sitting at the kitchen table, I thought about everything that had happened.

The repeated tea bags.

The stained towel.

The damaged cushion cover.

The two conversations.

And most importantly, his attitude when I asked him to stop.

I realized that getting angry wouldn’t solve anything.

Arguing with him again probably wouldn’t help either.

So I decided to approach the situation differently.

The Next Morning

It took only one afternoon to prepare.

I didn’t make a scene.

I didn’t confront him again.

I simply made a plan.

The following morning, I was already outside on my balcony before seven.

I had my coffee in one hand.

I sat quietly in my chair.

The balcony was clean.

The plant pots were in their usual places.

Everything looked completely ordinary.

But this time, I wasn’t going back inside.

I was waiting.

I knew what usually happened next.

At some point, my upstairs neighbor would step onto his balcony with his morning tea.

And for the first time, instead of finding another tea bag after the fact, I would be there when it happened.

I wasn’t interested in shouting.

I wasn’t interested in creating a scene.

I simply wanted to see exactly what he did—and finally deal with the problem in a calm, clear way.

So I sat there with my coffee and waited.

A few minutes passed.

Then I heard the balcony door upstairs open.

I looked up.

My neighbor stepped outside.

He was holding his morning tea.

And for the first time in weeks, I was ready for whatever happened next.