I’m renting an apartment from a company whose renting agents are somehow all unprofessional, late, and kind of slow. I’ve had a plethora of issues with them throughout ten months, but that’s a story for another time.

As I told my landlord I’d be moving out, they instructed their agents to find a new tenant for the apartment. The way it worked was that the agent would email me with a proposed date and time, and I would confirm that I’d be in at that time. (I’ve got a cat, so I insisted on being present during the viewings.)

The agents never had keys. I think that’s because the landlord’s office is at the other end of the city, and they can’t be bothered to drive an extra hour each time there’s a viewing to pick the keys up and then drop them off, so they relied on me to let them in each time.

Apart from a couple of unannounced show-ups, followed by passive-aggressive emails about the messy property, all was well until a week ago.

The agent emails me saying they’ve got a viewing on the 13th. I respond saying I’ve got work that day and won’t be able to do 13th. She simply replies:

Agent: “If you won’t be able to accommodate this request, I’ll ask the landlord for a twenty-four-hour notice of entry, which is legally enforceable.”

Me: “Okay, do that.”

The day comes, and I get a call.

Agent: “We’re downstairs.”

Me: “Congratulations, but I’m not home. I hope you brought keys this time.”

Man, I wish I could’ve seen her face then. We went back and forth a bit. She tried to threaten me with legal action, to which I just replied that I didn’t object to them entering; they were unable to enter due to their own negligence, and I had nothing to do with it.

Naturally, I got an email from the landlord asking me to be “more cooperative” next time, which was promptly ignored.

We make repair requests for a Housing Service. Sometimes, tenants make us blink twice when we receive their questions.

Tenant: “If you change my locks, will I get the new keys afterward?”

Coworker: “Yes. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to open the door.”

Tenant: “That was a silly question, wasn’t it?”

However, we are not without blame.

Tenant: “When will [item] be fixed?”

Coworker: “It will be fixed ASAP.”

Tenant: “And what is ASAP?”

Coworker: “As soon as possible.”

Tenant: “…And when is as soon as possible?”

I admire the tenant for staying patient and kind.

My complex has assigned parking and visitor parking. The parking blocks at each assigned space are labeled with the building number and apartment number (and they’re regularly repainted and perfectly readable). The visitor parking ones are labeled. There are THREE signs up front that say parking is ONLY for residents and their guests, violators will be towed, and the guest LOT is the one in the back with the unassigned spaces.

Every June, the school across the street holds a weekend carnival… and people decide they are entitled to our parking spots. So, when I got home from a frustrating day at work, I found someone in my spot. I waited for twenty minutes, and there was no sign of them.

I called the towing property that’s right on the big sign at the front of the property.

Towing Company: “The property manager has to be the one to call.”

So, I called the property manager.

Property Manager: “We don’t work the weekends, but per our email, the city police told us they’d be the enforcers on this.”

So, I called the city police.

City Police: “We don’t enforce private parking, and anyway, we need the property manager to call.”

I lit into my property manager that Monday about the runaround I’d received, and about how it’s ridiculous that my assigned parking (built into my rent) is unavailable to me and that the towing isn’t even enforceable by us, only them during their working office hours.

We rent out houses for people with low income. About 99% of our clients are normal, decent people. And that 1%…

This happens when I am still relatively new at the job. A woman walks into our reception and yells in a mix of English and Dutch.

Client: “I’m not paying! I’m not paying! I’ll pay when I feel like it!”

Me: “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”

Client: “I’m not paying!”

Me: “I heard that, but which house are you renting from us? Then I can look into it.”

Client: “I won’t tell you that.”

Me: “Can you tell me your name, then?”

Client: “You don’t need to know that!”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t find your file…”

Client: “YOU DON’T NEED THAT, AND I AM NOT PAYING! You white people are all the same! You are all alike! You white people are evil! I won’t give you anything! You should all rot in Hell!”

At that moment, a more experienced coworker comes in. He is of color; I am blonde and pale-skinned.

Coworker: “Hello, Ms. [Client], I heard you down the hall. How may I help you today?”

Client: “That white witch tries to steal my identity, but I am onto that hag! I’m not paying! This bill is illegal!”

Coworker: *Gets papers from her* “Ms. [Client], this is your rent. Your curator deals with your bills for you. You don’t have to worry about this.”

Client: “I want that racist b**** fired! She is corrupt!”

Coworker: “I’ll deal with her, Ms. [Client]. Do you have any other questions?”

Client: *While leaving* “I’m not paying! I’m not paying!”

My coworker notices my shocked face.

Coworker: “Yeah, she’s early this month; we should have warned you. She has mental issues and has a memory worse than a goldfish. She won’t remember you next time she’s in. Might even call you the sweetest doll. But if she’s upset like this, she only wants to talk to non-white people. I’ll contact her caretaker to let them know she’s upset about something again. Are you okay?”

I took a small break to compose myself again. When this woman returned the week after, she was a charming rainbow, talking all about how wonderful the world was, with all kinds of people. Two weeks later, she was upset again and I was called a white w***e who probably slept my way to this job, including sleeping with my female manager.

It took quite some time to get used to her… antics. She was banned once, which resulted in her screaming racial slurs from the sidewalk. Believe me, letting her come inside, accepting the screaming, and informing her caretaker was the best way to deal with her.

I once worked for a property management company whose owner would look for a hotel or motel with a good reputation and buy it. He would then lay off the workers until there was only a skeleton crew of minimum-wage workers, cut as many guest benefits as possible, drastically reduce the maintenance work, and overall spend as little on the place as possible. The reputation would bring guests in for another year or two until the bad reviews on Yelp overtook the good ones. It would get some more guests past that because he’d reduce the price for a stay to undercut all other places in the area.

Once it became so bad that people wouldn’t stay there at any price, he’d sell off the land and use the money he gained to buy two more hotels and motels with good reputations to start the cycle anew.

The hotel the author stayed at in this story would be pretty similar to the ones this guy owned in their final stages. He honestly didn’t care, as long as the amount he spent was as low as he could make it.

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