Killer Bees

>> Monday, April 14, 2014


At 5:30 p.m. the courtyards comes alive again.
Tenants stroll in, stopping at the mailboxes, grabbing their packages from the office, waving to their neighbors as they arrive home from a long day of work.

On this particular day, I was passing out everyone’s Amazon packages, when I heard screaming from the courtyard.
I looked out the window and saw several tenants running out of their apartments.

I walked out of the office and asked what was wrong, and everyone said that their apartments were filled with bees.
Now, I had done this long enough to realize that every situation is an EMERGENCY!!! AHHHHHH!!!! LIFE IS OVER!!!!!!
And eleven times out of ten, it’s actually not.

So, I figured when a tenant said their apartment was filled with bees, there were a few fruit flies. 
I went into the first apartment and holy freakin bees, there was a swarm in the bathroom.
I walked into the second apartment, even more bees, all where coming from the bathroom.
I then walked into the third apartment, and I found the tenant in the bathroom with a pair of scissors, yes I said scissors, and he was trying to cut the bees in order to kill them. 




Scissor boy then informed me that the bees were coming out of the toilet, yes I said toilet, which makes perfect sense, because bees have gills and can swim up through the plumbing system.






I called the bug guy.
By this point, tenants had been stung by the mutant bumblebee fish hybrids, and we set up a triage at the picnic table fully equipped with band-aids and hugs.
Scissors guy emerged from his apartment and announced he was allergic.
Now, I am not a genius, but if you were allergic to bees wouldn’t it be a better idea to, oh I don’t know, exit the apartment as soon as possible instead of trying to cut the little fast moving insects with a pair of scissors?
No?

Bug guy arrived.
I may, or may not have, asked him nonchalantly if bees had the capacity to swim through the water pipes.
He said no.

Turns out the bees were coming through the vent, and bug guy found two large hives.
I then had a tenant start to cry because we were killing the bees.
She had her five-month old baby on her hip, and was STANDING in front of one of the hives, bees swarming around her, in protest.


Now I’ve seen the BEE MOVIE, on multiple occasions, so I’m basically an entomologist.



However, I wasn’t about to put six tenants up at the local No Tell Motel, while we discussed how to peacefully evict our unwanted friends.



Long story short, we got rid of the hives.
And by we, I mean the bug guy did.




And protest lady called me a bad name and said she was going to move.
But guess what?
I got over it. 
And she is still there. 


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Meme

>> Monday, March 10, 2014


I just discovered a meme generator app, and I may have spent a little too much time on there these past few days. 
Just ask my friends, I have sent them entirely too many memes. 
So, I thought I would try my hand at creating a few for this here blog of mine. 







Happy Monday!

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The Love Expert

>> Tuesday, March 4, 2014






I had a very nice couple(mid fifties, early forties, late fifties...I suck at age assumption) arrive at my office all hearts and flowers and rainbows, because after three weeks of dating bliss, they were now ready to take the plunge, and move-in together.

Seemed kind of stupid to me.
But, I had a few vacancies, so who I was to judge?

They fell in love with an upstairs one bedroom overlooking the Electrical substation.
Because nothing screams romance like electrical currents.

They each filled out an application, paid the fee, and left hand-in-hand in pure elation over their new adventure.

I ran the credit and background check.
She had flawless credit.
No criminal background.
And a stable job.

He on the other hand, well, he was a different story.
Grand theft Auto(two counts)
One eviction
I wasn't aware credit scores could start with a 3.
Plus, his "employer" had never heard of him.

So what's an apartment manager to do?
I was thinking of this poor tenant. 

I called the woman, because the man didn't list a phone number on his application.
When she answered, I said that I was sorry but I could not approve them for the apartment.
She was baffled, and questioned as to why.
I said I would mail them their credit reports.

Instead, they arrived a few hours later.
They stood behind my desk, she looked puzzled, he looked guilty.
I handed over her four page credit report.
I then handed him his ten page credit report.

He folded it in half, and yet she continued to probe.
Finally, I told her to ask her boyfriend why they could not be approved, and I said it with an accusing undertone.
And then I asked them to please leave my office.

Was that the right thing to do?
Nope.
Was it the right thing to do?
Yep.

She was in complete confusion as they slowly left the building.
I then heard them screaming at each other, just outside the office, for the next hour.
She drove off, leaving him to walk to wherever he was staying, possible here. 

Two words, one apostrophe....

YOU'RE WELCOME




*Probably not the best post title. 
But I've been watching Frozen for almost 24-hours with a barfing child, so, it's about as creative as my mind can get at this point. 

Happy Tuesday! 

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It's a Hate Hate Relationship.

>> Wednesday, February 26, 2014

My family contracted the plague.

Two solid weeks of fevers and fluids exploding from little bodies.

Is that TMI?

My apologies.

But we survived.

Kind of.

Well, my carpet may never be the same, but we appear to be over it.

Knock on wood.

Moving on.


All right, I wanted to talk about a marketing device that drives me bonkers.
Really, really, really bonkers.
Every apartment manager has used them.
You see them attached to FOR RENT or NOW LEASING signs everyday.
And at most four year old's birthday parties.
I understand their effectiveness.
But I personally HATE them...

BALLOONS.

And I will explain why.

The complex was tucked away, not easily visible from the main road. Which made for a quiet living experience(as far as car traffic goes) but hard to get foot traffic through the door.
So, I placed a large sign on the corner advertising our complex.
To really catch the drivers eye, I bought one of these....


And I attached a variety of colorful balloons to the sign. 
It worked wonderfully. 
Except, after a few days, my balloons were disappearing. 
Gone. 
Vanished!
Departed! 
Missing! 

Sorry...moving on. 


I would add a few more balloons, and within an hour, they would vanish as well. 

One day, while I was driving to the bank, I saw that the balloons that I had attached only moments earlier were, yet again, gone. 
I turned the corner and saw a man walking with a little girl. 
The little girl was happily skipping along holding my flippin balloons. 
I was tempted to pull over and take them back, only after chastising the man on his unlawful possession of the 25 cent arrangement of colorful latex. 
But, thankfully, I was able to mentally play out the scene in which a crazy lady storms out of her car, on a busy street, and rips balloons out of a little girl's hand, and then drives off. 
Probably not the best idea. 
So, I kept driving. 

The next day, I attached a Post-it to my balloons saying, "taking these balloons is STEALING!"
The balloons were gone moments later. 
So, I attached another Post-it to my balloons the following day, this time my scary declaration of thievery was translated in both English and Spanish. 
Why I thought this would be effective is beyond me. 

Surprise. 
Surprise. 
The balloons were gone. 

It was now becoming personal. 


I was only moments away from dragging a folding chair out to the corner and monitoring the balloons myself. 
Obserd?
Why yes, yes that is. 
Which is why I didn't do it. 
I made my maintenance man. 

Kidding. Kidding...kind of. 

Anyways, a girls got to know when she is beat. 
And after three weeks of balloon snatching, I decided to call it quits. 
Fine. 
No more balloons. 
It was a waste of money to put them up for only an hour before someone passing by decided that they would be a spineless butt-head and take my balloons. 
I am not bitter at all. 

The following week my boss arrives at the property for an inspection. 
He walks in. 
Takes a seat across from me. 
Takes out his notepad and says, "It would be a good idea to attach some balloons to the sign on the corner." 

At this point, I am nodding and smiling on the outside, while mentally slapping my forehead. 

Fifteen minutes prior to my next inspection, I attached a colorful arrangement of balloons to the sign. 
I wanted to complete all the items on my list, and of course, please my boss. 

He shows up, takes a seat, pulls out his notepad and says, "why aren't there any balloons on the sign?"

$%^&*&$@#$%^  %^&%  $%!

Woud you believe that not long after, I watched one of the tenants walking through the complex with his niece, who was holding the flippin balloons. 
I believed that warranted an eviction. 
However, I was alone on that belief. 

So, basically, long story short...I hate balloons. 


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