Land Lord

26 06 2007

I once had some really awful terrible horrible landlords (technically, just apartment managers). They yelled (literally yelled) at us for whispering on the balcony after 10pm, yet would ONLY do repairs after 11pm (you know, if they did any repairs. I lived without a light in the kitchen for over a week once). They actually did not have our apartment ready for us for 26 days after we were scheduled to move in and they also had the balls to ask us if we were lesbians when we were filling out the application (clearly, this was not an apartment I applied for with my husband *snicker* – it was our first apartment ever when Melissa and I moved out on our own nearly nine years ago). For a million reasons we should have run screaming from that place, yet, for whatever excuses we had at the time, we didn’t. In the end they essentially stole our deposit by tacking on costs for repair which were beyond our control (for instance a leak inside the wall we had no way of knowing about). I realize we could have taken them to court, but I was young and scared of court so I did not. I did, however, get them fired. Or so I believe anyhow. I wrote a long letter chronicling all the illegal shit they’d done and I fired it off to the owners of the complex, the housing board and the managers themselves. It was only weeks later their truck disappeared from the parking lot. I take full credit!

Incidently I saw the husband of the couple the other day (we call him Tommy Lee Jones because, well, he looks like Tommy Lee Jones). He was walking along H Street with a gas can in his hand. I will refrain from laughing b/c Karma is watching. Still, it was literally all I could do not to turn around and spew obscenities at him. In fact my poor five-year-old daughter got an earful (not of obscenities, just of ranting).

So I do my best to have patience with my current land lord. However, my patience wears thin. he has never, as far as I know, done anything outright illegal and I will give him credit for keeping on top of the very serious things like hot water (one day we came home to find him fixing our heater before we even knew it was broken). But, then, it’s been three long years since he first told me our apartments were to be tented. One neighbor has been told not to use her balcony (!) because of subsequent structural damage. It took me four years to get a working dishwasher (8 months to get it installed). We’ve now had two rent raises since he still has not cut down the tree which spits thick black sap all over everything on our patio. I’m done. I’m tired of it all. In fact, we’ve decided – against all logic – to buy our own home. But in the mean time, we have to live through the hell of getting tented. Which is actually happening. On July 16th and 17th. And we are being put up in a hotel. Without any means to actually cook anything. WTF? Apparently this is completely legal (will confirm later, but I am without hope), but I think that’s total bullshit. The laws in my state assure me of the basics in life – the aforementioned hot water, and, I would think, a place to cook and store food. But apparently not when I’m ousted from my house while the spray poison through it. (And, really, I do not hold the tenting against him at all – but I think anyone would admit it’s quite a huge burden and PITA.)

Needless to say, I’m a tad grumpy about the whole thing.

The good news, at least, is that my tree will HAVE to be cut down now, and the termites will stop building ceiling-structures in my daughter’s room. (In our last apartment in this complex – a few doors down – they dumped poo all over one of the kitchen counters! No matter what we did to stop it!) So some good will surely come out of this, not to mention the fact that it will no longer be hanging over my head. Of course, now I worry about stability of the building in case of an Earthquake or something. Fun stuff, huh?

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