Monthly Archives: December 2014

“Do you even LIVE here?”

There was a notice on my door that it was time for the quarterly change of A/C filters in the units. It is the tenant’s responsibility to perform said change with the supplied cardboard filter they left leaning against my door.

Fine, I remember having to do that while I was at UM. All I have to do is open the vent and slide it in…but I can’t get the cover off on my own. I spend literally twenty minutes or so prying it off in every conceivable way possible, and it didn’t move. Fortunately, the note said if the tenant has any trouble with installing it, they can come down to the leasing office and they’d be happy to send someone up to help with it.

I walk down to the leasing office and before I can even ask a man in the dark red shirt looks at me accusatorially and snaps “Who are YOU? What do YOU want? Do you even LIVE here? This is PRIVATE property and we don’t want the likes of you on it.”

I explain to him that yes I do in fact live at this property. He looks at me, scoffs and demands to know my full name, and exact address.

“You’re LYING! I know EVERY tenant in this complex, and I know for a FACT that you cannot POSSIBLY live in that unit because I know the person who DOES live in that unit – and she’s NOT YOU! Now I’m asking you again: ‘who are you and what do you want?’ I want the TRUTH this time.”

He smirks and turns to his computer. “I will VERIFY everything you just said. Give me your name and address once again and I’ll PROVE what a liar you really are….Hmmmm, Umkay, HA I knew it! You don’t live in THAT unit – you live in the unit ACROSS from it!”

“Does that mean I actually DO live here?”

“I don’t know this negative attitude of yours is coming from but I will NOT put up with it in my office. Now tell me, what you want.”

I forgot.

He got me so pissed off that I totally forgotten why I had come down in the first place.

“Jonathan?” The building manager said coming up from behind me. “What are you doing in here?”

I’d still forgotten, but suddenly the rude guy was all smiles.

“Did you come to get a printed copy of your lease?”

“Um, sure…”

“Wait,” she said. “Something is bothering you, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said trying VERY hard to clear the incident from my mind.

“You’re a terrible liar, just come out and say it while we’re waiting otherwise we’ll know know if there is a way we can improve our service or not.”

Yes that is her actual quote, and no I didn’t feel like rehashing everything.

Why? Because every time someone asks me something like that they always cut me off mid-sentence and rudely tell “the crazy person” to “get fucking help. Fortunately for them, us “crazy people” don’t have “feelings” so we can’t be hurt (and if we are we “DESERVE” it because we’re “ASSHOLES”).

I take the newly printed lease from her hand and leave the office. The second I stepped outside the building again I remembered the A/C filter…

 

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Photos: A moving mess

living-room-chaos office-chaos2 office-chaos bedroom-mess

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Pre-moving Day

Mom woke me up at 9am, and I quickly showered, dressed and went down for breakfast before they closed at 10am. The spread was free, but it was nowhere near as nice as the other Hampton Inns we stayed at on our way down (Rocky Point, NC and St. Augustine, Fla.).

I felt lazy taking the elevator to the second floor, but I had no idea where the stairs were. I threw a jacket into my bag along with my checkbook, a small notebook and a couple pens. I cinched it tight and stood there for nearly ten minutes watching my mom fumble around trying to find her car keys, room key, sunglasses and jacket.

The next four hours were a blur of activity that on any other day would probably warrant their own post, but, for the sake of brevity, I’ll just lie and say nothing unusual happened. This is Florida – even the hour long out-of-nowhere downpour wasn’t all that noteworthy (aside from the fact I didn’t have an umbrella\poncho on me).

We finish our errands and for some reason mom insists on “exploring” I-drive babbling about cleaning supplies and bottled water. When we reach the end of the road she shouts “DOLLAR TREE” and immediately pulls off the road into the nearby strip mall. She tells me to quit “complaining” and sends me to the coffee shop next door if that would make me “feel better” (which appears on my “lucky phrase” list right before “what’s the worst that could happen?”)

I’m standing in line at Dunkin Donuts when my phone rings. Leasing company again, they are calling to “remind” me – for the seventh time – that I don’t have a “proper income” to qualify for living there. “We need a PAY STUB.” I went over this with them before, but now my documents are missing…spread out between three, four or even five bags and I don’t have time to search through them all.

Return to hotel for an hour or so before driving to Downtown Disney (soon to “Disney Springs,” though due to construction we have to park in the Casting lots bringing back many awkward memories) when my mom takes me to the Wolfgang Puck Express. Maybe it was just the oddly short queue area, but it seemed like we were waiting in an unusually long line for what was essentially a counter service meal even though it was brought out by a waiter… who had to immediately take my food back because the guy at the order station could give a darn about what I wanted on my pizza.

Yet, despite the delays we managed to be in and out of WPE in just under an hour and back into the Springs where my mom proceeds to dive into the LEGO Store, Once Upon a Toy and The Co-Op before slowly heading back to her car…

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