The eight types of people in every street WhatsApp group

When Sartre wrote: “Hell is other people,” he was probably talking about a street WhatsApp group. Truly, nothing brings more exquisite pain, joy and – yes, laughter – than finding out that Sandra at Number 57 has lost her recycling bin again; and getting 86 notifications as people join the quest to find it. Because we all need the constant helpful updates of, “Haven’t seen it Hun, have you tried looking in your garden?” – don’t we? Then, there are the times – and it happens daily in my outpost of east London – that someone accidentally starts a video call. When my children or colleagues ask me why I’m ignoring my phone buzzing and I have to tell them that I actually don’t want to join James from Number 28’s FaceTime from his pocket. But nothing can compare to the thrill of sharing with the group that you’ve discovered a dead rat in your driveway (I hilariously joked that someone’s ex-boyfriend had come to visit). Or, the exquisite pathos of a lost cat, last seen chasing pigeons perilously close to the A12… Shorts There are 250 people in my street group – mostly strangers, some with memorable nicknames like “Dave6969” – and we share everything from joy to sadness. There are the half-eaten bags of spinach, which act as a form of stealth virtue signalling ­(“Anyone want this? My toddler prefers kale”); the grand giveaways of surplus bean cans and the Carry On-style double entendres when the group is asked for a recommendation for someone to “service their trumpet”. Fnarr! I live for the constant rows over dropped kerbs, early-morning deliveries, parking permits and speed bumps. I am gripped by Ring doorbell footage of a “suspicious person” out for an early morning stroll and how dare he decide to go for a walk at 6am! But nothing – and I do mean nothing – makes me feel sorrier for Sartre than the fact he missed out on my local neighbourhood’s Great Snake Drama. Whole plays could have been written on the tension, anticipation and pathos of a snake dropping from the sky onto Barbara’s roof, prompting fierce speculation over how it got there. “It must have been dropped by a bird,” one said decisively, which led – predictably – to arguments over what kind of bird would do that, or whether the snake could be poisonous. We followed the drama like we were watching the World Cup Final as Nigel offered up a pair of gardening gloves to capture it, only to discover, upon retrieval, that it was a rubber snake. Sigh. We’re still “lolling” about it two years on. If you are on your local neighbourhood WhatsApp, you’ll probably have identified the following culprits. The real question is: which one are you? As for me, I’m not telling. I plan to mic-drop it in three… two… one… ‘The animal lover, the declutterer, and the namer and shamer are just a few of the types you will find on your street WhatsApp group,’ says Victoria (Photo: We Are/Getty) The busybody We all know this type: the one who sticks their nose into everyone else’s business. I had a number of encounters with someone who simply couldn’t stop referencing the fact I’d kept my Halloween decorations up way past 31 October – it wasn’t just that she mentioned it three times, but that it actively seemed to bother her. It seemed to be causing her real, actual pain. Reader, I kept them up until December. The namer and shamer “Someone has left a car outside my house for 48 hours – isn’t that your car, Brian?” We sent each other popcorn motifs in the side chat, waiting for poor Brian to spot the message; wondering how he’d respond when he discovered he’d been publicly “outed” for parking his car perfectly legally in an empty spot, halfway down the road. I, for one, rejoiced when, a week later, Brian returned from holiday with a casual, “Sorry, didn’t see my phone.” YES, Brian. The animal lover Fifteen photos of cats, a gerbil and three stag beetles later, Jenny is offering shelter to any passing stray. Spot someone nearly get knocked over in the road? That was Jenny, trying to rescue a moth from impending doom. The only real doom, in the end, is likely to be Jenny’s – she’s halfway up a ladder to the loft, phone in hand, trying desperately to snap a photo of a family of squirrels. The declutterer Anyone for an old pair of child’s shoes with the sole hanging off – “Well-loved but lots of life left in them”? How about an advent calendar in July? A bunch of over-ripe bananas “going spare”? Blender with the plug missing, anyone? This person will give it all away, even the tin of chickpeas they keep in the cupboard for emergencies that went off in 1997. Inedible, but “perfect for a craft project”, probably. The lurker No one knows who they are. There is no photo on their profile, no name, no status update – they leave no trace. They joined via a link and nobody knows where they live or if they really live on the street at all. They could be walking past you right now and you wouldn’t even realise it. The political activist Did you know there are more than a million potholes blighting our roads? And that one in Wiltshire was the length of a double-decker bus? We need to sort it out, because this Government clearly can’t be bothered! Sign this petition online now – for ease, the activist in your neighbourhood will also be bringing it round, door to door. The group organiser Shall we do drinks? Or a street party? We could apply to the council to close the road. We could put up picnic tables and have a street party like VE Day! Ooh, and how about we all do a street-wide jumble sale? A bunting workshop? And does anyone have any DJ decks to provide the music? Let Carol know by 4pm. Lots to plan! The “Supermum” From moaning that the kids haven’t been given “enough homework” to lamenting that little Jimmy has only been given one book to read over the summer holidays. And isn’t it a shame that standards have slipped at state school and they don’t get to sweat in their bedrooms learning Latin conjunctions before bedtime like they used to? Oh and one thing: her name on WhatsApp is “Supermum”. Of course. “Victoria has left the group”? I would never.