>> Tuesday, September 29, 2015

I mostly hang out over here….


The Parking Lot is a Dangerous Place

>> Thursday, July 2, 2015

I was walking around the parking lot when I noticed a stucco pillars in one of the carports was damaged.
A large chunk of the stucco was missing and the floor was also sprinkled with stucco dust.
I moved further into the carport and inspected the car parked there.
The front bumper was cracked, scratched and had cream colored speckles that just so happened to match the pillar.
Now, I ain’t no detective mind you, but I was fairly certain that this here damaged car I was staring at had run into that there pillar.
I grabbed my phone and called the tenant.
Tenant: Hello
Me: Hi, I’m calling about the pillar in your carport that you ran into.
Tenant: I didn’t run into anything.
Me: Was someone else driving your car?
Tenant: No
Me: I’m standing in your carport and the damage on your car matches the damage on the pillar. I’ll have the maintenance staff give you an estimate on the damage.
Tenant: I didn’t run into anything. Maybe I gave the pole a little love tap, because it’s too close. I’m not paying for anything.”

Love tap?

I bent down and stared at the wooden beam and wires that were now exposed.
He must have really loved that pillar.

Ps- He still swears that he never hit it.

Submitted by Anonymous…

I have a current resident who's wife was backing out of her garage the other day and she didn't notice that she had hit the button on the remote so, like it happens all too often, she backed into the door causing damage.

This is nothing new - it happens all the time.

I talked with her and her husband about getting the door repaired letting them know that according to our garage guy it's actually cheaper to replace the entire door then just the two bottom panels she destroyed. My garage guy bent the panels back as best he could so the door would work for now.

After going through all the normal paperwork to submit it through our corporate insurance and scheduling to have the door replaced the husband calls me up and tells me he does not see why the entire door needs to be replaced - only the bottom two panels are damaged. I explained to him that it was cheaper to replace the entire door and I was trying to save him some money.

He went on to state that other doors around the property are also dented and he didn't see why he had to pay for this one if they didn't have to pay for theirs.

I just explained that the door was getting replaced - if he had an issue with that he could take it up with his insurance company.

The real kicker is that this guy is a State Trooper! Are they not supposed to enforce the laws?

That's like going to an accident seen and telling the offending driver "well, the guy you hit - his car was already dented so you shouldn't have to pay for the damage"


I got a call that someone had been hit in the parking lot. 
The tenant who had been hit was visibly shaken, not that I blame her, and her boyfriend had his arm protectively wrapped around her. 
She didn't appear to have any physical damage.
The driver was more shaken that she was, not that I blame him, it's gotta freak you out when a human rolls across your windshield. 
After the initial shock wore off, everyone started getting mad. 
The driver was mad at the girl for hitting his car. 
The girl was mad at the driver for hitting her. 
The gathering of tenants were mad at me because the six speed bumps, ten posted Speed Limit signs and one SLOW DOWN sign were now not sufficient. 
I needed to do more. 
What more could I really do?
Well, aside from standing in the parking lot with a yellow vest, stop sign and whistle directing traffic. 
Although, I'm certain I would just get run over anyways. 
(it should be noted that the girl getting hit by a car drew a smaller crowd than the cat)
The cops came and took a report. 
Everyone was going to sue everyone and that's just how I left it. 

Luckily, there was a security camera.

The driver was going rather slow. 
I know this because there were people walking past him much faster than he was driving. 
He was looking at his phone though. 

The girl got out of her car, took out her phone and began looking down at the screen. 
She walked out into the parking lot and was then hit by the car.
When it hit her, she almost jumped up and sat on the hood, holding on to her phone the entire time 
It was far less dramatic than it had been played out to be. 

I said, let's call it a wash. 


Read the Manual

>> Wednesday, May 27, 2015

I have a whole collection of posts about the stupid intercom system coming soon.

In the meantime. I leave you this...
I've read a lot of instruction manuals. 
We seriously had two files stuffed with instruction manuals on how to work every ancient piece of equipment I used(two words: Ledger Sheets).
So much so that as I was sitting at my computer typing out instructions for my mother, who was about to take care of my 4 1/2 month old baby, Fisher,  while I was on vacation…and this happened….

And they say kids don't come with instruction manuals. 


Submitted: "Swamp Thing"

>> Monday, May 18, 2015

I worked at an apartment complex that had a giant stocked fishing pond in the center. We didn't always have the best tenants, and I never was able to get approval to restock the pond, so we used to joke that the only thing that pond was actually stocked with was used syringes and dumped guns with the serial numbers rubbed off (thereby giving the pond the loving nickname of "The Swamp").

Well, we often had people come to lease that seemed just great and completely normal. After a few weeks of residency (and that's being generous), the crazy would start to come out.
We referred to this as the Swamp Gas Effect.

(Erin's Note: I feel at this point we need to insert the theme song to my favorite childhood cartoon)

So, this one guy - we'll call him Cray - first shows up with his mother, takes notes, asks all the right questions, and explains that he is on a housing voucher due to some down-on-his-luck times and some medical expenses that just set him back.

His mother was lovely, he was lovely, and I couldn't wait to sign a lease with him.

My favorite part of this job is helping people, and I really thought this was one of those times.

Everything starts out great. Cray comes by the office to tell us how wonderful we are. Cray waves as he walks by. The neighbors love Cray. And then Cray snaps. Cray comes running into the office screaming, "I'VE BEEN ROBBED! I'VE BEEN ROBBED!" Never you mind that this is a very busy day with move-ins. I have 7 new tenants sitting in a circle like we're about to break out in Kumbaya at summer camp while we review the lease together. I politely ask him to have a seat in my private office, and I would be in there in a moment. I give a nervous smile to the new tenants, who are now terrified, and ask them to hold on just a moment. Cray is pacing in my office like he had the flippin' hope diamond get ripped from his arms by the Pink Panthers.
 Cray: "I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out EVERYTHING was gone!!! I only peed. I wasn't even in there that long."
 Me: "Uh huh. Okay. And have you called the police?"
Cray: "No, I ran straight up here! It's EVERYTHING. My furniture, my clothes, my carpet, my appliances, EVERYTHING is gone!"
 Me: Hold up, did he just say his carpet? His appliances? What kind of robbery was this? "And did you hear anything?"
 Cray: "Nope, not a thing. I don't know how they did it so fast. And now my front door won't lock. I tried to lock it on my way up here. I'd had some trouble getting in earlier. In fact, I had to go through my window and unlock it from the inside."

 Now, I won't pretend like we never had break-ins. I won't pretend like some weird things were never stolen (e.g. once, everything was stolen from a tenant's refrigerator, but their blank money orders for the rent were still sitting right there beside the refrigerator).

But THIS. This was new.

Me: "Cray, I'm going to come down with the master copy of your key and take a look and call the police with you. I just need you to sit tight while I finish up here so I can lock up the office."

 Much to my surprise, all of my new tenants were still sitting there ready to move-in. WINNING! We wrap up, I collect Cray, and we cruise on down to his apartment. As I start to walk to his door he goes, "That's not my apartment!! I'm next door."

"No Cray, this is your apartment. I promise you. I know all 700 of my tenants by face, name, and apartment number. This is where you live." ....blank stares... "Cray, is this the apartment you were in?"
"Cray... did you break into someone else's apartment by mistake?"

Turns out, Mr. Looney Tunes had crawled through the window of an apartment that was under renovation. Somehow, he had managed to walk through and get to the bathroom without noticing the lack of carpet, etc, but immediately noticed it upon his exit from the bathroom. This certainly explained the insanely quick abilities of these "thieves." I just shake my head and leave. I call all of my new tenants to explain there was a "bit of confusion" to calm their nerves. I call his mother to let her know that Cray might not be feeling well and she may want to check in on him.

I consider buying a respirator to keep the swamp gas from getting to me.

Thank you Lauren B. for sharing!

Now, one more time everybody....

Yes, I realize this will be stuck in your head the rest of the day.
You're welcome.
Swamp thing...dun-nun...you make my heart....

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