Sounds Like Their Brain Is Oxygen Starved

, , , , , | Right | July 11, 2018

(I am the manager of a 144-unit apartment complex. One of my long-term — ten years plus — residents, confides in me that his elderly uncle, whom he lives with, hid from him that he has bedbugs in his room. Very soon thereafter, I have my professional exterminator go into his apartment to do a thorough inspection. Yes, indeed, he has bed bugs. The exterminator and I then call the resident to report the findings and to discuss the treatment plan. The exterminator is telling the resident how to prepare for treatment, and he asks the resident:)

Exterminator: “Does anyone living in your home have any respiratory problems?”

Resident: “No, but my mother can’t go anywhere without her oxygen tank.”

Exterminator: “She will have to be out of your home at least overnight, and not just the normal four hours.”

(Later on that same day, the resident comes into my office to pick up the “preparation list” of what to do. As he’s reading it over, he says to me:)

Resident: “About my mother, it says we only have to be gone for four hours?”

(I stare at him for a puzzled moment, and then I remind him that the exterminator asked him is anyone in his family had respiratory problems. He looks frustrated and repeats to me:)

Resident: “No, she just can’t go anywhere without her oxygen tank!”

(I stayed calm, did not laugh, and told this 47-year-old man, father of two, that the reason his mother has an oxygen tank in the first place is because of respiratory problems.)

Dressed In Neighborly Spirit

, , , , , , | | Hopeless | May 31, 2018

After living in the same suburban city in Georgia for over 25 years, I find myself relocating to Miami, Florida, for my husband’s new job. We don’t have much time to look for a place to live, so we choose an affordable apartment close to his job.

We move into a second-floor apartment in a six-story building, knowing nothing about the neighborhood. Shortly after moving in I hear the fire alarm. I go outside to discover smoke pouring from one of the sixth-floor apartments. One of the neighbors is a teenage girl, who is absolutely hysterical. She accidentally started the fire when she forgot about a pot of food she had left on the stove. She panicked and ran out of the apartment, forgetting that her father was still inside napping.

As some of the neighbors are trying to calm the girl, the father, who is a very tall, very large man, emerges from the building, a bit dazed, but unharmed. Unfortunately, he is still wearing the clothes he was napping in: a t-shirt and boxer shorts.

While my neighbors and I are waiting for the fire department to tend to the fire — the apartment is a complete loss — my next-door neighbor, who is also a very tall, very large man, comes home. He speaks to his wife, who fills him in on the situation. My next-door neighbor sees the sixth-floor dad, and then goes to his car and retrieves several shopping bags from a clothing store. He hands him the shopping bags, saying, “Here. These are for you.”

The sixth-floor dad protests that he can’t take his new clothes. The next door neighbour makes the obvious statement that he needs them more right now.

And that is how I learned what kind of neighbors I had.

A Mental Rental

, , , , , | Working | May 15, 2018

(I am looking at a local ad website for a place that my boyfriend and I can rent. One apartment has an unusually low, but still believable price, so I call the poster.)

Me: “Hi, is the apartment on [Street] still available?”

Landlord: “Yes, let me tell you a little about it. There’s a separate entrance, laundry and kitchen on the main floor—”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, is this a shared house?” *the listing just said “apartment”*

Landlord: “It’s a basement apartment with a completely separate entrance. Do you want to come by and see it?”

Me: “Sorry, we’re really looking for a private apartment or house. Thank you for your time, though.”

Landlord: “No, no! It’s got its own entrance! What’s wrong with a basement apartment?”

Me: “Nothing, it’s just that I’m looking for my boyfriend and me, and our dog. You probably only want a single renter.”

Landlord: “Oh, yes, no dogs! I’m allergic! And no men. Women only!”

Me: “Right, so, we’re looking for our own place. Thank you for your—”

Landlord: “You should move in here, and the dog can stay with the boyfriend. It’s very affordable.”

Me: “Um… No, we live together.”

Landlord: “You shouldn’t live together before you’re married, anyway! When would you like to come see it?”

Me: “No, thank you.” *hangs up as quickly as possible*

(The room is still posted on the same site. Still says nothing about it being the basement in her house, or that pets aren’t welcome, or that it’s women only.)


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Some Staff Are Very Low-Rent

, , , | Working | April 19, 2018

(The apartment complex I live in requires us to have renter’s insurance, and to provide a copy of our insurance documents for the main office to keep on file. I get home from work one day, and there’s a message on my answering machine from the office, saying they need a copy of my renter’s insurance policy. My policy runs from December to December, so I’m thinking they must have lost it, since I took it to them the previous December. I make a copy and take it to the office the next morning.)

Me: “Hi, I’m [My Name], and I got a call you needed this.”

(I hand the employee the copy of my policy.)

Employee: *looks at it* “No, we need next year’s.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Employee: “This one is expired.”

Me: “No, it’s not. See?” *points to dates at the top* “It expires in December. We’re in September. It’s still valid for three more months.”

Employee: “Well, we need next year’s.”

Me: “I don’t have next year’s, yet. It’s only September. I won’t renew it until December. I’ll bring it to you then.”

Employee: “Other residents have brought us next year’s.”

Me: “Well, sure. If their policies are a year like mine and they renewed in, say, July, then yes, it would cover until July of next year. But mine is good through December. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Employee: “You need to contact your insurance agent and get next year’s. We need it.”

Me: “My insurance agent will send me the renewal in November, like he has every year for the last eight years, and I will bring you the copy in December once I’ve paid it, like I have for the last eight years. I don’t know what else to tell you. You’ll get it in December. I can’t bring you something I don’t have.”

Employee: “I’ll have to contact the corporate office. You’re in violation of your lease agreement.”

Me: *as I turn to leave* “Oh, trust me; I’m not.”

(Never did hear anything from the corporate office. In December, when I renewed my policy I took a copy to the office, like I always do, every year. I did not see that employee.)

Paying Bills Is A Resident Evil

, , , , , | Working | April 18, 2018

(I apply to rent an apartment, only to realize a few hours later that I foolishly based my ability to pay rent on my total income rather than how much I have left after paying my bills, meaning the apartments are actually around two hundred dollars out of my price range. The complex’s website lacks any contact information aside from the application, and I have no intention of making a half-hour drive just to say “my bad,” but it’s such a minor issue that I figure I can just tell them what happened when they call, if they call me back at all. They do, and the following conversation takes place.)

Employee: “Hi, we’re calling to let you know that you’ve been approved as a potential resident. Can you come in for an interview on this date?”

Me: “Actually, I calculated my funds wrong, so I can’t afford your apartments after all. Sorry.”

Employee: “Okay. Are you still interested?”

Me: “No, I can’t afford it.”

Employee: “And why do you say that?”

Me: “Because I have other bills to pay.”

Employee: “I see. Would you care to come in for an interview, anyway?”

Me: *pause* “I would not. Thanks for calling.”

(I have to say I admired her persistence. Her performance, not so much.)

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