A neighbor keeps putting “free” furniture at the curb, then leaves it there through rain. Who should say something?

For eleven days, a floral couch sat at the curb with a paper sign that said FREE in thick black marker.

On day three it rained. On day five one cushion disappeared. By day eight the sign had dissolved and the couch was still there, darker and heavier. The neighbor who placed it outside continued mowing around the empty patch where it had been.

The couch was finally collected, though I do not know by whom. Two days later, a particleboard desk appeared in the same spot.

This neighbor seems to believe the curb is a permanent exchange shelf. Sometimes the system works: a lamp vanishes within an hour, or someone takes a bicycle that needs repair. I like reuse. The problem is what happens when nobody wants the item. It remains along our block until weather ruins it or somebody else arranges removal.

The desk is directly in front of his property, not mine. I can still see it from my windows, and pedestrians move around it where the sidewalk narrows. Several neighbors have complained in our group chat. Nobody has spoken to him. Instead, we are discussing whether “someone” should call the city.

That feels unfair. If we are willing to report the situation, one of us should be willing to make a basic request first. I am also aware that volunteering to talk can turn me into the block’s furniture monitor. I do not want every unwanted bookcase to become my case file.

I have a cordial relationship with him. We talk about baseball and weather. I could say, “The free piles are staying out after they get wet. Could you arrange a backup pickup if something is not taken in a day or two?” The word “could” makes it sound optional; the rest risks sounding like a rule I invented.

Another neighbor thinks the person closest to the obstruction should handle it. A third says the group should send a jointly signed note so no one person becomes the villain. A group letter about one wet desk seems more hostile than a conversation.

Would you speak as an individual, ask the group-chat complainers to choose someone together, or leave it to local services without direct contact? And how do we address the recurring habit without appointing a permanent neighborhood enforcer?