Where is my car!? (Flash Back Friday)

Last Monday, one of our tenants came stomping into my office visibly upset. He pounds his fist on my counter and says that he just went out to his car and, it's gone.

Oh crap!

Now see, the property is not responsible for any cars, but it still reflects poorly when they go missing. I asked if it's possible that he parked it in a different spot, which I know is a stupid question, but when I don't know what to say, I ask stupid questions to buy myself time until I think of something better. 

He looks at me like I am an idiot, and then proceeds to go bonkers, and starts yelling about how I am a horrible manager, the place is crap, and the washing machines aren't working.

Which was news to me because, I had just used them earlier that day. But he is upset, and I understand that when people get upset they tend to spew nonsensical crap out of their mouth(present company not excluded).

I decided to walk out to his assigned spot, just to confirm that, yes, the car is gone. 

I looked at the nightly report from our security guards and there was nothing there.

I didn't say he should call the police(even though that is the obvious choice) because I try to keep the cops as far away as possible. The last thing I need after this incident and this incident, is to have more police showing up. There is already too much gossip going on around here right now.

So, I sat down and went through hours of film on our cameras, which is about as much fun as watching paint dry.

After about 8 hours of film(which I obviously watched in super speed) I noticed a tow truck coming in, the man get's out and looks around the parking lot. He then stops at the tenants car, checks the paper in his hand, then checks the car and then...tows it right off the property.

Hmmm...

I went to the tenants apartment.  

He answered the door with his pissed off face in full force. 

But...haha!...I had on my "smart assery" face and asked him if he happened to be late on his car payments.

His pissed face then morphed into a "Oh S...." face.


Ha ha! Serves him right for insulting the washing machines. 

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The FELONY!

It was a wonderful day.

Sun shining.

Birds chirping.

Elmo singing.

Freeway humming.

It was just one of those warm and fuzzy, hearts and flowers, rainbows and bunnies, kind of days.

I then unlocked the office door.

And it all went to crap.

A tenant barges through the front door.

Because it is a well-known fact, that one cannot simply stroll through an apartment manager’s office, a dramatic entrance MUST be made—this is very important information, so make sure you write that down.

The guy is an annoying tenant who lives towards the back of the property. He was wearing an undershirt, boxers, white socks and, Birkenstocks.

He storms up to my desk, clearly pissed off, and just stares at me, as if I am able to read minds.

I stare back, wide eyed and waiting. 

Elmo still singing about the joys of potty training in the background.

Finally, Birkenstocks Sock Dude decides to speak.

BSD: “I am so mad.”

Me: “Clearly, why?”

BSD: “I just went into the laundry room, to get my uniform out of the dryer, and it has been stolen!”

Me: “I am sorry about that. When did you put it in there? I just opened the laundry rooms fifteen minutes ago?”

BSD: “Does it matter?” 

Me: “Uh, yes.”

BSD: “Yesterday. I already called the police to make a report.”

Me: “About your uniform being stolen, a uniform that you left in the dryer for at least a day?”

BSD: “Yeah, I’m a cop, and stealing a cop’s uniform is a felony.”

Me: “Uhhhhhhh…..I thought you were a security guard at the mall?”

BSD: rolls eyes and shakes his head. “It’s the same thing.”

Me: “Uh, sure.”

The police stroll through an hour later. Birkenstocks Sock Dude is still donning the same outfit, as if putting on clothes would detour the officers from the severity of the situation.

A report was made.

The FBI were put on the case, and America’s Most Wanted plastered a sketch of the suspect on their next broadcast, the local news team swarmed the apartment building, and I hear Brooklyn Decker is set to play me in the movie.

Honestly

Later that day, a tenant came in with the uniform. She said that it was mixed in with her laundry, because she likely threw her wet clothes into the dryer without looking first.

I thanked her for bringing it back.

And then I told her she should assume a different identity and run away to Mexico, because she didn’t know it at the time, but she was now a wanted FELON.

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False Advertisement

Have you ever been in an argument with someone, and during your mind is a mush of nonsense, and then ten minutes afterward you can think of exactly what you should have said?

Well, I don't often, if ever,  have those moments.

My mind is a pile of mush until I get in a debate with someone. Then my brain flips on, and I can come up with fast responses that are often sharp, mean, cutting and filled with sarcasm.

It's actually a curse.

Trust me.

Or you can ask the crazy guy that lives up the hill, or the mean lady that was behind us at the grocery store, or the clerk with an attitude....

See, I'm a terrible person.

I'm trying to control it.

However, I will say that my curse came in handy as an apartment manager.

For example...

A tenant hands in her thirty-day notice to vacate. She's on a month to month, so there isn't much I can say except for good luck. 

She on the other hand, has plenty to say, as she informs me of her expectation to receive her full deposit back on the day she moves out. When I probe as to why she feels entitled to such, she goes on to explain it is because she does not have a patio. According to her, the advertisement that led her here promised a spacious studio with an attached patio. She felt the previous manager was deceitful—falsely advertising a patio just to rent an apartment without care for the emotional wreckage such a lie would create. Apparently, this poor tenant has been on the verge of emotional ruin over this betrayal for the past two years, and receiving her $300 deposit would solidify her fragile nerves.

It takes every ounce of will power I have not to pull out my imaginary violin, and accompany her emotional tale of deceit. Instead, I question her if she happened to look at the apartment before renting it, which of course she did. I then ask if the little old lady that used to manage the property, manhandled her into signing a lease for an apartment she didn’t want. Understanding her points were not making a dent, she decides to come at me with a more logical scenario.

“(old manager) promised she would get me a patio after I moved in.”

I stare at her. “Just so I have this straight. You are telling me that (old manager) promised to spend thousands of dollars to remodel your apartment? That your tenancy was so important, that she was willing to reconstruct the entire building just so you would rent here?” I suddenly place the exact location of her unit. “Wait, you do have a patio.”

“It’s not private, it’s shared, and it over looks the courtyard.”

Mentally slaps forehead. “As opposed to what? The parking lot? Did you expect an ocean view when you live next to an Edison substation about three cities in from the ocean?” 

"Need I remind you that I am in law school," she countered. 

I think this was supposed to scare me. 

Boo!

"Need I remind you that that only means you don't have enough knowledge of reality to be a real lawyer yet."

"I will bring you the ad that specifically said that this apartment came with a patio."

"Well, I believe that thing protruding from the sliding glass door in your apartment,  is classified as a patio." Maybe the Edison Power Station does zap away brain cells after all.

End result....verdict in favor of the only sane person in this case(Me)

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Cheap Labor....snickers immaturely.

"Thank you for calling_____ Apartments."

"Hi, it's ___ in Apartment ____, can(maintenance) come take a look at my garbage disposal. It is making a weird noise when I turn it on. It also has a smoke smell."

Grabbing pen and maintenance log, "alright, I am writing this down. Is it possible for me to come take a look at it now. Just to see if it is something I can fix?"

"I doubt you could fix, but whatever."


Roughly thirty minutes later...
(had to make a bathroom stop, check both laundry rooms and was stopped by a tenant to discuss the poor parking situation and loud upstairs neighbors)

Knock on door.

Tenant(woman, early thirties/late twenties/mid-forties...I suck at age assumption) opens the door looking mildly interested.  "Hi, the disposal is over there," she points towards the sink in the kitchen, as if I was about to walk into her bedroom in search of the garbage disposal.

"Thanks." I walk across the living room into the kitchen, with my L-wrench looking thing(I also suck at tool names) in my hand. I flip the switch for the garbage disposal, and the tenant was right, it sounded like a metal screw was banging around int there, but it also smelled like plastic was burning.

I dropped to my knee and opened the cabinet below the sink and unplugged the disposal. I then pulled a latex glove out of my back pocket and wiggled my hand into it. I learned my lesson, and also, THIS happened VERY close to my complex, so, you can never be too careful.

(she shoved it in a garbage disposal) 

(can you image the apartment manager having to add that to her list of items not suitable for the garbage disposal? Potato peels, plastic and any body parts) 

I then reached my latex protected hand down the drain. The tenant was standings there with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the wall, giving me an incredulous look as if I were a small child attempting to solve the pythagoras theorem(which I totally can....not solve, alright, maybe I could, if I didn't drop any math class that made me think too hard in college.) 

Now, after feeling around for a moment, I pulled out a quarter. I set it on the counter, and reach back in. Next came a dime followed by a penny. I plugged the disposal back in and turned it back on, expecting to have solved the problem. 

Nope, still weird burning smell. 

I reached back in, and it was hard to tell for sure, because of my glove, but I thought there might be something plastic like in there. After awhile, I was able to get a portion of the plastic item unclogged. I pulled it out, holding it between my thumb and forefinger, with a head tilt and furrowed brow, I examined the item in my hand until realization came upon me. 

I set the item next to the coins and took an assessment of what we had here. 

We had .36 cents and part of a used condom. 

I looked up at the woman, whose mouth was twisted and face resembled Elmo's. 

Not sure what exactly happened, didn't ask, didn't want to know. But, if my assumption is correct, and assuming she is subpar at her...endeavors...I think she could charge more. But, I was the apartment manager not a business advisor. 

And, I was the manager having to remind tenants NOT to put contraceptives in the garbage disposal and common area walkways and the pool and the laundry rooms and down the toilet. Honestly, why is the trashcan NOT the most obvious course of disposal. 

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What happens in Vegas...stays on your credit report

I had a great tenant move in over a year ago.

He was super clean

Excellent credit

Very Quiet

He came to me one day and said he might need to move out.

When I asked why, he said it was because he got married.

I was surprised, since just two weeks earlier we changed his locks because he broke up with his girlfriend.

He explained he met her in Vegas that weekend and they got married.

He even brought her in to meet me.

So, 30 days later he moved out.

5 months later he came back.

He said he was getting a divorce, and loved it here and wanted to move back.

I ran his application,

His credit had taken a nasty turn for the worse.

He had some collection accounts on there.

BUT he was a good tenant prior, so I wasn't that worried.

Then the cops came yesterday.

They asked if he lived here.

I said he did.

They waited for him...all day...eight hours...

Then they came with a search warrant....I let them in....they didn't find anything apparently...but they made a big mess...

When I talked to him today, he just looked at me shook his head and then said that he should have never married his stripper.

Probably not.

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License To Kill

This one was submitted by PV a fellow property manager....

One day when I was going through one of the buildings in the apartment community I managed doing unit to unit inspections, I came to Mr. Jones' apartment (This is his real last name, and think it is safe to use it as there are only a few Joneses in the world, right?) Mr. Jones had a cat (and I should mention Mr. Jones was not the tidiest of people. He could have been on an upcoming episode ofHoarders on A&E). The community allows cats in the apartments if the resident pays a deposit and signs a pet addendum. Obviously you can see I am heading in the direction of saying Mr. Jones did not have a signed pet addendum or pet deposit on record. You would be correct in that assumption. So, I get back to the office and remind Mr. Jones that we must have his cooperation immediately in getting the deposit and addendum taken care of, or I would have no choice to force him to get rid of the cat, or file for eviction. I also noted that he should contact me if he had any questions or concerns. BIG MISTAKE!

The next morning I pull into the parking lot and as I am walking to the office through the parking lot, who do I see headed straight for the leasing office but Mr. Jones. (Deep breathes, deep breathes, deep breathes). I hate getting in arguments with residents, and knew this one would be a zinger! I make nice and say hello to Mr. Jones, but he isn't taking to my niceties.

He barges into my office right behind me, not letting me take off my jacket, get a cup of coffee, check voicemail...NOTHING. The following is the conversation we had (or something close to it):

Mr. Jones: Why do you hate me? Why are you so mean to me? You're a cat killer!

Me: What do you mean? Because I asked you to follow the rules of the community and pay a pet deposit and sign a pet addendum?

MJ: You can't force me to pay anything. Why don't you fix the problem with the cockroaches in my apartment. I've been dealing with them for months now, and you won't do a damned thing to get rid of them. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your 9 year old daughter be afraid to come over because of the cock roaches.

Me: You have cockroaches? Did you tell me you had cockroaches?

MJ: No. Thats why I have the cat. The cat eats the cockroaches.

Me: So you think I am psychic? You think I know what is going on in each and every one of the 220 apartments 24/7 in this community? And I didn't know cockroaches were natural prey for a cat. Interesting...

MJ: Perhaps...you're a smart A** , you should be smart enough to figure it out.

Me: Smart a**? Believe me Mr. Jones, I am not being a smart ass...yet. You will know when I am being a smart ass.

MJ: You are a smart ass, making me get rid of my cat. I know you get off on being mean to people like that, like forcing them to get rid of their children. You're making me bring it to the humane society and they are going to kill my cat. You're a cat killer!

Me: WHOA! First of all, I am not forcing you to get rid of your cat, you need to pay the deposit and sign the addendum and I would be a happy camper. Second, I have 2 cats of my own, and I know they are like family, I don't have kids, my cats are my kids, so I don't "get off" on forcing others to get rid of their pets. Thirdly, the humane society has a no kill policy...if the cat is able to be adopted out, they will put it up for adoption, unless it is too sick or diseased, they may have to put her down. Fouthly, if you can't afford to pay the $250 deposit right now, I will gladly come up with a payment arrangement for you to pay down the deposit debt. Is there a certain amount you can pay each week or each paycheck? Finally, let me call the pest control people so we can get them to your apartment and start treating for the cockroach problem before they start spreading to other apartments.

(Around this point my Assistant Manager comes in and sits at her desk. My assistant, by the way, hates confrontation even more than I do. She'd much rather crawl in a corner in the fetal position that argue with a resident)

MJ: I can pay $75 every other week to pay it off.

Me: Perfect, I will type something up and send a copy of the agreement to you for you sign and return to the office.

MJ: OK

Me: I will also let you know when the pest control people will be stopping by to begin treatment of your apartment.

MJ: Begin? What do you mean? They won't get it done right away by setting traps?

Me: No, they bait to actually create more activity amongst the cockroaches to draw them through the poison to being back to the nests.

MJ: You're full of $*it!!!!!! You don't know what you're talking about. You think you know everything.

Me: Excuse me? I've dealt with cockroaches in apartments a few times before, and know this is how they treat for them.

MJ: No, they will spray and kill them all.

Me: Yes, eventually they will die, but not right away, it will take 10-14 days, unfortunately.

MJ: You expect me to live like that? Live with cockroaches for 10-14 days? That is completely unacceptable. I am calling the city to have them come and inspect my apartment. There is no way the health department would let this fly. I am also going to get them to revoke your license.

Me: Umm, are you sure you want to start that ball rolling? It wouldn't be the health department coming out, it would be the fire department coming out, I know this because someone else tried doing this last year and it backfired on them. You see, the fire inspector was so disgusted by the cleanliness of the complainants apartment, she made them clean it up! Are you sure you want to go there? I would be happy to give you her number. Oh, and what license are you threatening to have revoked?

MJ: Your real estate license, or what every license you need to do you job that you don't know how to do!

Me: Really, I need a license to do this job? Thats news to me! I have a driver's license...would they take that? How about my license to be fabulous?

Ok, so that last sentence really showed off my smart assery skills. My assistant literally had to get up and leave the room because she was so mortified that I said that. Mr. Jones never did pay his pet deposit. Eventually, a couple months after this all started he moved out. I think he brought the cat and cockroaches with him.

I think smart assery skills is a job requirement.

Thank you for sharing your crazy tenants with us!

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3:30 AM

Phone rings...and rings...and rings...

Hello (in my best you just woke me up from a deep sleep voice)

Hello! I have been stuck inside your parking lot for the last hour.

Huh? (remember I am slightly coherent) Who is this?

I was here visiting my friend and I have been sitting here in my car and the gate is not opening and I have been waiting here for over an hour. This is F'ing ridiculous.

Well, pull your car forward

I did!

Well pull it forward a little more (now I am watching her on the security camera screen) a little more, just a little more. (now I see the gate open)

Finally!

Which apartment did you say you were visiting?

Michael in apartment...

Okay

-click-

I waited until 6:00 am to call back Michael knowing he would be fast asleep to tell him he should let his friends know that gate has a censor that opens it automatically.

PS- Check me out here

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Another month another excuse

"I am sorry but I am going to be late this month I had an emergency come up"

"Is everything okay?"

"No! When I was at work yesterday my dogs totally broke my bathroom door and got into all my make-up and I had to take them to an emergency Vet and one had to have surgery and the other might have to as well. Luckily they are going to be okay."

"Oh gosh I am so sorry but you realize we don't allow dogs here and was there much damage done to the door?"

"I can not believe that you are concerned about your stupid door or your stupid rules when my dogs are dying!"

"Well, it is my job to make sure everyone is following the rules and this is a no dog property."

(my defense she said they were going to be okay)

"Well my dogs are staying"

"I am sorry, but no they are not"

"Well then I guess I have to move."

"That is fine but you will have to pay your lease break fee"

"No I wont"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because you are kicking me out!"

"No, I am saying you can not have dogs which is exactly what it says on your lease that you signed four months ago."

"But my puppies are a part of me they go I go"

"That is fine but you will have to pay the lease breaking fee."

"You can talk to my lawyer then."

"That is fine go ahead and give him my number but in the mean time when will you be paying your rent?"

"F....You"

Tenant turns around grabs her purse and storms out of the office catching her purse on the doorknob spilling all content over the ground....see God does love me.

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It's never to early to start your Christmas wrapping

I had a nice young woman come in...let's call her Jolene... with a little baby saying she was looking to finally move out of her parents house and wanted to rent an apartment. She went on to say how she was going to school and working and her dad who was a fireman captain would co-sign with her. Her entire song and dance was so nice and convincing. She filled out an application along with her father and everything looked okay.

She moved in and immediately I started getting complaints.

We started having car break ins every night.

Her apartment was D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G!

She was constantly lying.

As it turned out she was using a false SS number and Id.

She had been arrested several times.

Evicted on several occasions.

On probation.

And on and on...

We served her evicted papers.

She asked for a jury trial.

Which takes a few more months.

She obviously knew how to work the system.

We were losing tenants.

So my boss paid her off to leave.

...long frustrated sigh....

So she finally left!

I thought my life was finally back to normal.

Several weeks after she had left I was sitting on my computer in my office.

My daughter was taking a nap.

I had just found out the night before I was pregnant.

Life was good...

I then notice this ragged car pull up.

This man comes out with no shirt on crazy tatoos(one in which was a swastika) buzzed head and honestly made me pee my pants just a little.

I just sit in my chair(like an idiot) and watch as he storms through the office and to the mailboxes. He opens the mailbox takes out some mail and storms back to the back of the property. I go outside really quickly to see which number he was getting mail out of and it was in fact Jolene's old apartment

The crazy shirtless tattooed man was heading straight for her old apartment.

I knew we had changed the locks so I wasn't really worried.

I watch from my window in my locked house, as the guy is trying to open the door, then tries to go through the window. I am thinking "ha ha you can't get in."

Then I see this crazy scary man turn around ticked off and storming towards the office.

"CRAP!"

Not knowing what to do I decide to call 9-1-1(My husband thinks this is a hobby of mine) but I didn't want to come face to face with this guy. As I am on the phone my boss calls so I have 911 on one phone and my boss on the other.

The crazy shirtless tattooed guy comes into the office and I hear him slam the door. He then proceeds to ring the bell again and again and again. I am sort of pissing my pants right now(excuse the language) and run back to my daughters room. I then hear him beating on my door. Which means he has climbed over the counter and is now beating on what he knows is my door.

DOUBLE CRAP!!!

The 911 operator tells me to go into my bathroom and lock the door.

So I grab my daughter and my husbands shot gun that I had no idea how to use and was not even loaded and go into our bathroom and lock the door. I hear the guy pounding on the door and screaming something and I am desperately pleading with the 911 operator to get the police here RIGHT NOW as my daughter dances around in the bathtub.

Finally he assures me that they are in fact here and they have the guy and that I could vacate the bathroom.

As I vacate my bathroom(which honestly how safe was I really in my bathroom) I hear the officer knocking on my door. He then begins to tell me that this man used to live here and was just picking up some things. I assured him that I have never seen this man before and that the apartment is now vacant. As I am talking to the police officer his little walkie talkie goes off and he asks me to step back inside and lock my door!

As it turns out this man is a WANTED FELON!!!

Of course he is.

He was arrested on the spot and taken away.

Now as scary and crazy as that sounds the only reason I told you that back story is so I could tell you this...

After this whole incident I was packing my bags because I decided that I wanted to go to my mom's house for the weekend when the phone rang. It was Jolene and she informed me that the scary man I met earlier was in fact her boyfriend.

Shocker

She didn't know what had happened or what the problem was.

She then informed me that the reason he went by is because she had and I quote

"LEFT SOME CHRISTMAS WRAPPING PAPER IN HER STORAGE UNIT"
Really???

Seriously???

So I had some crazy tattooed wanted felon banging on my door screaming at me because his girlfriend wanted her wrapping paper??

In September?

Honestly???

For some reason I am just not buying it.

Unless I am just not that hip on the crack lingo

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Probably the most pathetic tenant ever

Here is a good one from my LA days...

One day this particular tenant was microwaving a Lean Cuisine

While watching TV

And blow drying their hair

When the power went out

This tenant figured out that there must be a power outage

You know because Los Angeles often has major power outages

So this tenant sat there

Then read a little

Called their mom on their cell phone

Did the dishes

After about two hours this tenant thought she might as well head for a walk

As this tenant headed down the stairs they saw that their neighbor was watching TV

Huh?

So this tenant went and knocked on their managers door

This manager had a big belly

And liked to wear nothing but boxers

Not that that has anything to do with this story

But just in case you were making a mental image

Anyways

I digress...

The manager told this tenant that they should probably check their circuit breaker

The tenant looked at the manager confused

"Where is that?"

The manager said it was on the wall near the bathroom

So the tenant went and looked at their circuit breaker

There were a bunch of switches

The tenant wasn't really sure what to do with all these switches

So the tenant went back down to the managers door and explained that the circuit breaker had too many switches

So the manager threw a robe on and huffed and puffed as he climbed the stairs into this tenants apartment

He opened the circuit breaker box

Pointed to the switch that was in a different direction than all the other switches

And told the tenant to switch it to match the other switches

So the tenant switched it over

And the power turned on!

That tenant was me

Don't worry

It has come full circle

Many

Many

Many

Times

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I don't take to kindly to threats.

I have a tenant who moved in about 9 months ago.

She actually used to live here 5 years ago when the previous managers were here.

You should know that the previous manager had been managing this place for over 16 years and was probably the nicest little old lady you have ever met.

I on the other hand am not that nice.

So when this tenant came in and saw a new manager she was a big hesitant.

She wanted a studio.

I had two studios open.

I showed here the first one.

Then the second one.

Then the first one.

Then the second one.

....2 hours later she chose the first one.

She signed a lease and moved in.

On her first month of tenancy she explained that the previous manager let her pay rent a few days late.

I told that would be fine as long as she paid the late fees.

She was not happy about that.

Then she complained that the woman above her walked to loud.

I talked to the woman above her who said she would try to walk quietly.

Then the tenant called to complain that the woman was still walking loudly.

I told her that is what you get when you rent a downstairs apartment and to deal with it or talk to the tenant herself.

She was not happy about that.

Someone then parked in her parking space.

She went a little nutty.

She called me several times.

I told her that I tried contacting the tenant who the car belonged to but they seem to be out of town.

She wanted the car towed.

I told her to go ahead and tow it if she wants.

She was not happy about this.

Mind you we have a giant parking lot with spaces open which are actually closer to her apartment then her own space.

I will not sign to have a car towed that is in the parking space one over from his.

Especially since this car belongs to an old man who was probably just a little confused.

She was not happy about this either.

So she called me

at

11:30pm

and said

"I think you are a horrible manager and I am going to move out!"

I said

"Great, just give me your notice in writing?"

To which she replied

"So you don't even care if I move out?"

to which I replied

"Nope"

....that was about 4 months ago....

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Is 27 to early to get gray hair?

I don't want you to believe that all my tenants are crazy.

Out of the hundred or so I have here there are really only 7...wait...8...hold on...okay I would say 10 that are either crazy or drive me crazy.

So when this tenant tells me she is moving out I am not sadden or disapointed.

She was however only 3 months into a 1 year lease so I knew collecting her lease breaking penalty would be somewhat of a challenge.

But for some reason I really believed she would pay it.

Yeah I know...slaps head...I am an idiot.

Anyways.

She left on the 31st

In the middle of the night

Took all her stuff

And her keys

Cancelled her phone number

Didn't leave any forwarding address

And left about 2 tons worth of trash in her apartment

Nice.

BUT...haha...what she didn't know is that I had somewhat of a personal vendetta against her because she litterally drove me to drink during her three month stay.

Well not necisarly drink alcohol but a whole lot of diet dr pepper.

I mean a whole lot.

So I started my research and made about 50 calls and was finally able to locate her phone number and address.

I decided to call her first..

"hello"

"hello---, this is Erin I am calling about the 2,100 dollars you owe in rent and electric bill fees"

"Oh I don't speak English sorry"...click

It's amazing how quickly she has forgotten.

Luckily I have about 15 voicemails with her speaking very good English and using several French words as well.

Wait, is B%$#$ French?

Anyways, luckily I called right back and her voicemail clearly stated her full name letting me know that I in fact had her right number.

So today I filed the small claims court case.

(always interesting going to the court house on a Monday...WOW)

I give the paperwork to my friend who also happens to be an apartment manager so she can serve the papers.

She goes up to the house where this tenant is now living.

She rings the bell....no one is home.

As she is leaving she notices that there is a big sign right on the door saying

What would Jesus Do?

Well....I am pretty sure Jesus would pay his rent and electric bill!!

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A Friendly Tip

If you get the bright idea of moving-out of your apartment, in the middle of the night, so you don't have to pay the  $2,100 you have in back rent, it's worth noting that the U-Haul trucks are the exact same height as the upstairs balconies. And you will get stuck.



You know, just because waking half the building isn't a good idea when the goal is to be inconspicuous.
But that is just my own personal opinion.

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Twister!

As noted in my previous post we have had quite the storm here.

The thing about SoCal is that it was NOT built to handle anything but breezy and 80 degree weather.

So of course roads were closed, cars where floating down Main st and the sunny world as we knew it was gone!

Oh the devastation.

Of course I got a few complaints that made me go "what the....!?!"

But other than that nothing to major.....until.....

A tenant came in on Friday

She asked me if I would like a divorce

!?!

Um, who asks that?

She then told me that she does her friends divorces for them.

(who does divorces for fun?)

When I said I wasn't aware she was a lawyer

She confirmed that she isn't.

....Um, okay....

Switch subject.

I started talking about the weather because that is what you talk about when you have nothing logical to say, right?

We talked about the tornado warnings.

She asked if I was scared.

I told her that we were not close enough to the water for water sprouts and that I thought that everyone was just being overly dramatic with the tornado business.

Really a tornado in Orange County.

If there really was a big tornado we be dead.

So why worry about it?

About 20 minutes after this conversation I was in my house playing with the kids and the power went out.

I hear sirens and cars blazing down the street and I think it's just because we are literally locate next door to an Edison Plant.

I begin counting quarters from the laundry room while my daughter asks me continually to put on Max & Ruby, and not understanding why the TV wont turn.

About 2 hours later the lights come back on and the first thing I do is turn on stinking Max&Ruby because I can't handle it anymore.

Just after the lights came on a fireman comes in.

He wants to make sure everyone is okay.

I was confused and said yeah of course.

Did he think 2 hours with no electricity would kill me?

He then asks if I had seen the damage.

What damage?

He then goes on to explain a twister came through the back of the property knocking over a car, pulling up some trees and knocking over a fence.....

whoops.

Hey I never claimed to be a meteorologist.

I just collect rent.

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Parenting 101

I hate tagging/graffiti.

I mean I HATE it.

I don't understand how taking a sharpie and scribbling three letters on the side of a washing machine serves any purpose.

My previous maintenance man used to take a paint brush and paint over the graffiti outlining each letter, basically tracing the graffiti in a different color....sigh...don't even get me started.

Anyways, for a few months we were getting the same letters "STP" scribbled all over the complex.

At first it was just occasionally, and then quickly became an all out "STP" attack as the three stupid letters were found daily on everything from the washing machine to the dumpsters.

It didn't take a genius to realize it was someone who lived here.

Now it doesn't happen too often but when I actually put my mind to something I can get it done and I get it done right and I get it done fast.

(absolutely no hidden innuendo to that statement)

So I launched an all outright CSI investigation.

I was determined to nab the "STP" artist and give them the boot.

I started by trying to narrow down who I thought it could be.

Hmmmm....

I decided that it just might be one of my teen residents.

I know a far fetched theory.

For some reason I couldn't really see them sneaking out at night and tagging up the complex.

So because of my teen theory I was able to narrow it down to three apartments. Which isn't bad considering how many apartments I have here.

I was planning on starting my questioning/bribing for information when right in the midst of my investigation I saw one of the three suspects discarding some unwanted furniture next to the dumpster and on that unwanted furniture there it was.... "STP" tagged all over it.

BINGO!

Told you I am good.

It only took me three hours to catch the little artist himself.

I grabbed a 3 day notice and handed it to my husband

(I always make him do the dirty work)

(again no hidden innuendo)

and had him deliver it to the taggers apartment.

I then sat in my office and waited for the backlash.

About 20 minutes later the kid(16yrs) came into the office.

He was with three of his scary looking friends.

(I only peed my pants a little)

He was genuinely perplexed as to why he got the notice.

I told him that graffitting was grounds for eviction.

His defense you ask?

"I haven't tagged in a few days though"

Really?

Good to know he is an artist and a genius.

He left my office after a few choice words and a middle finger.

His father then comes in.

He proceedes to tell me...

"My son is a good kid, he really is. He just has ADD and that is why he has to tag. I tell him to go across the street to do it but sometimes he doesn't listen."

(slaps head in disbelief)

HONESTLY!?!

SERIOUSLY?!

Was I the only person here born with a functional brain?

My disclaimer:

I understand that ADD is a honest to goodness problem that many face.

I do not believe however that it is a good excuse for breaking the law.

The truth is that I actually do have ADD.

Promise.

Not a joke.

Just ask anyone that has spent more than twenty seconds with me.

So if you ever invite me over to your house and I randomly start drawing all over your walls you can't get mad.

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