Knows How To Make An Entrance

, , , , , , , | Working | December 1, 2017

(I live in a “garden” apartment complex and my building has ten units. Two of the apartments, mine and one other, have private entrances to the outside, and the other eight are accessed through a common entrance where you have to buzz in. One night my wife and I have just put our newborn son to bed when there is a loud thump on the front door.)

Voice Outside: “WHAT THE H***? WHY IS THIS LOCKED?!”

(There’s more loud banging, almost like someone is trying to break the door in. I look out the window and there’s a pizza delivery guy apparently trying to shoulder down my door.)

Me: *through the door* “What are you doing?”

Delivery Guy: “Oh! I have your pizza.”

Me: “I didn’t order a pizza.”

Delivery Guy: “Is this [address]?”

Me: “Yes, but I didn’t order a pizza. What apartment is it for?”

Delivery Guy: “[Apartment Number upstairs] for [Neighbor].”

(I crack open the door to talk to him but keep the chain in place.)

Me: “You’ve got the wrong apartment; that’s upstairs.”

Delivery Guy: “But I need to get in! Let me in.”

Me: “The door is on the other side of the building. They’ll buzz you in.”

Delivery Guy: “Can’t I just come through this way?” *he leans his shoulder against the door again*

Me: “This is my apartment; I’m not letting you cut through my apartment to deliver somebody else a pizza.”

Delivery Guy: “Why not?”

Me: “I’m just not. Go to the other door.”

Delivery Guy: “Fine, you can explain to your neighbor that you won’t let me deliver their pizza.”

(He got back in his car and drove off, making no attempt to go to the main entrance. I talked to my upstairs neighbor later that week. Apparently the delivery guy told them that the doorman wouldn’t let them in. We don’t have a doorman.)

Their Leaving Is A Blessing

, , , , , | Right | November 29, 2017

(I’m showing one of my rental properties to a prospective tenant. She has looked over the apartment and everything seems to be going well. After I give her the run-down on the lease terms and whatnot, she suddenly turns.)

Prospective Tenant: “And have you had this place blessed for good fortune?”

Me: “Um, well, not really. Any religious ceremony you’d want to conduct for yourself is okay, so long as it is within the rules of the building. Bringing a religious priest, pastor, or elder in for a blessing would be fine, but things like burning incense or sage would be problematic since they might disturb the other residents of the building with the smell.”

Prospective Tenant: “Oh, no, I don’t believe in any of that voodoo stuff. I was just curious if you had a priest bless this place for your good fortune.”

Me: “I’m not particularly religious myself, so if this place has been ‘blessed,’ it was only by the occupants. Again, if you want to do a blessing, that’s fine, so long as it isn’t disruptive to other residents in some way.”

Prospective Tenant: “Well, that’s not ideal, but I suppose I can arrange for a pastor from my church to come bless this place and talk to you about accepting Jesus.”

(At that moment, she’s walking out the door to the apartment and spots the mezuzah my current tenants have hung at the door.)

Prospective Tenant: “AND WHAT IS THAT?”

Me: “I’m not entirely sure of its meaning, but as far as I understand, it’s a custom for Jewish people to hang that near the door. Don’t worry; they will remove it and patch the small holes from hanging it when they leave. They asked about hanging it, and since it’s no different, damage-wise, than a picture or whatnot, I said it was fine. Again, the holes will be patched and painted before you move in.”

Prospective Tenant: “I can’t walk under that mark of the devil! Take it off the wall! NOW!”

Me: “Um, you walked under it to come in the door, and it’s a simple piece of wood. If you don’t believe in its ‘power,’ walking past it shouldn’t do any harm. I am not going to yank that off the wall without proper tools, as I’d likely do a lot of damage to the wall trying to do so. So, let me see you out…”

Prospective Tenant: “NO! I am not going to knowingly pass through a door marked by the devil. I didn’t know when I walked in, but now I know, and I can’t walk through that door until you remove it!”

(Long story short, after I continued to refuse to pull it off the wall without any tools, she called her pastor and he told her it was okay to exit so long as she prayed to Jesus while she was “passing under that unholy mark.” Needless to say, her application wasn’t approved.)

Another Reason To Celebrate Easter

, , , , | Friendly | October 25, 2017

(I’m a woman in my 20s, and have just moved into my first apartment six months prior to this incident. It’s a Sunday afternoon, and my mom is visiting, when I decide to hang a picture. My walls are hard concrete and require special hooks, so it takes a minute or two to work the hook into the wall. Thirty seconds into the hammering, someone bangs on my door. I answer. It’s my neighbor, a man twice my age and size, red-faced and fuming, yelling and threatening to call the disturbance hotline on me and get me evicted. He’s been awful with me and with other neighbours before, so I am prepared.)

Neighbour: *screaming* “Are you stupid!? It’s Easter; the rules say—”

Me: *interrupting* Actually, the rules say…” *points to the sign where the rules are posted on the wall and quoting it* “’It is forbidden to hammer, drill, or make excessive noise on red days.’”

(Sweden has both common holidays and so-called “red days,” which are specific holiday days. Red days usually refer to Sundays and days AFTER we celebrate major holidays, but NOT the holidays themselves. This is why holiday-related rules are suppose to specify that they are in effect on “red days AND the day before red days.” Our rules, however, are only written to be in effect on red days.)

Neighbour: “Exactly! It’s Easter—”

Me: “…and according to Swedish custom, Easter is not a red day. It is a holiday. Red days are Sundays and the days after religious holidays. Today is a Saturday, and Easter Even. This rule does not apply.”

(Absolute silence falls. He looks like a deer in the headlights. I coldly stare him down as the slow realization of what has happened dawns on him. I’ve just robbed him of the only justification for his behavior.)

Neighbour: *meekly* “O-okay… Um… Are you going to be drilling a lot more?”

Me: *sickly sweet* “Oh, no. We’re almost done! Just another minute, and then we’ll be quiet for the whole rest of the weekend.”

(Looking utterly deflated, he slowly turned and wandered back into his own apartment without another word. My mother barely managed to wait until I closed the door before she fell over laughing, undoubtedly remembering when I called her on the phone crying over how this man had treated me. Perhaps I took it too far. But then again, that was two years ago, and he hasn’t dared to confront anyone since.)

No Such Thing As A Clean Getaway

, , , , | Right | October 22, 2017

(I’m a housekeeper for an apartment building. The residents can get free cleaning every day, or decline if they wish to. There’s an old man that lives alone with his dog, and lately he’s been declining cleaning. We maids are happy, because it means less work for us. One day, he moves out.)

Manager: “Okay, get a crew in there for some deep cleaning!”

(Crew goes and returns.)

Crew: “You’re not going to believe this!”

(The manager went in to see. The apartment was totally destroyed. The manager called the police. Turned out the dog had some kind of untreated infection on his skin and rubbed on the walls, causing massive stains everywhere, and the old man had an infection on his head and bled all over the bed. The old man was arrested and fined for cruelty to animals and causing thousands of dollars in damage!)

Time To Give Each Other Some Space

, , , , , , | Friendly | October 9, 2017

My girlfriend and I have just moved into a new flat, where we have an allocated, clearly-marked parking space.

We’re some of the first people in the new building to move in, and it’s clear that the owner of a business across the street has been using our car park to avoid the on-street parking charges while the building wasn’t occupied. She parks her brand new, but bottom of the range, BMW in our space. We leave her notes asking her not to do it again, and eventually as our paths cross, I confront her about it.

“But that space is the biggest, and I don’t want my pride and joy being scratched by parking it on the street,” she protests.

I make it clear that it is my space; I have paid for it, and will get her car towed if she does it again. Of course, she does. I don’t have time to call the management company, as we’re off on holiday, but I park my car directly in front of hers, so there’s no way she can get out.

Two weeks later, we return, and both cars are still there. I have a succession of notes through my front door, ranging from nasty: “If you don’t move your car I’ll SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!” to pleading: “I’m so sorry; please just let me get my car out and I’ll never do it again.”

We pop out to the shops in our car, and when we return, the woman’s car is gone. We get a lockable post to stop it happening again, and I mention the story to the barber in the shop next to hers, who happens to be our neighbour. “Oh, that was you?!” he says. “This cut’s free. She’s been doing this to everyone round here for ages. For the last two weeks, she’s had to get the bus home. She won’t stop complaining about how someone like her shouldn’t have to ride the bus.”

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