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. 

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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?"
 "...............No." 
"Cray... did you break into someone else's apartment by mistake?"
 "........................Maybe."

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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Freaking Out!

>> Monday, March 16, 2015

Apparently, this tenant (lets call him Mr. Tongues, you'll see why) is a resident at an apartment in Austin, Tx. He loved where he lived so much, that he decided to refer a friend. That friend decided to rent an apartment there as well. But, unfortunately, that friend didn't put down Mr. Tongues as a referral. So, Mr. Tongues didn't get the locator fee. This made Mr. Tongues very mad, as you can see..... Well, that's one sway to handle it. Thank you Melissa R. for sharing.

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A Bowl is a Bowl

>> Tuesday, February 10, 2015



Submitted by Kelly K. 
I am an Assistant Property Manager for a relatively small complex in Texas. We have four buildings that are newly built and have all the amenities needed such as dishwashers and garbage disposals. 
We had recently just finished fixing a plumbing issue in one of these buildings, when one of our seldomly seen residents came in to report an issue. 
She said her toilet was clogged up, and would not flush not matter what she did. 
We had just fixed this issue in the entire building, so it was a bit odd that she was having this problem. 
So, we sent our maintenace guy to check it out immediately. 
 
He called us shortly after entering the apartment to report what he had found. 
The toilet was filled with potatoes, uncooked and chopped into large chunks.

(wait...what?)




You could tell the resident had tried to force them down the toilet, because a few of them were mashed. 

(You think she used a potato masher or a plunger?)

The resident acted surprised that there were potatoes in her toilet, pointing out that she had a perfectly good garbage disposal, and she would have used that to dispose of them. 

(Uh...we are sure they were mashed potatoes, right?)

She left for work, confused, as the maintenance man went to work unclogging the mashed potato bowl. 
 
There was a large pot on her counter that had potato remains in it, and we still wonder what she was thinking pouring them in the toilet. 
More so, where did she assume we would think they came from!? 
Her downstairs neighbor!?
 
Or...



Go here to read about my own toilet drama 

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