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Being Salty Will Result In The Cold Shoulder

, , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: 3colt3/ | November 23, 2020

I live in an apartment complex. There’s a row of four apartments with another four on the same lot, facing each other, owned by the same guy. It snowed a bit yesterday, so today when I got up I decided to help my landlord out since he is an older gentleman, and I grabbed my trusty snow shovel.

I started with our walkways leading up to the sidewalk and then started on the part that goes around back to the garages between the two quadplexes. Just my luck, our side drifted, and six inches of snow turned into a thigh-deep battle.

I’m maybe halfway done with my battle with the drift when someone from the other quadplex comes out and heads for the garages. Our two walkways are separated by about five feet of grass and her side is mostly clear. As this woman I’ve seen once and never spoken to passes me, she flaps her hand to get my attention.

Woman: “Excuuuuuse me!”

After about half a second of her flappy-birding me, I glance up.

Me: “Yes?”

She waves her hand in the general direction of her apartment.

Woman: “Put salt on my stair once you’re finished.”

My. Brain. Goes. Wild! So many things I could say. So many! So much opportunity for shenanigans! Malicious compliance? Petty revenge? But I’m not much for making people too mad if I can help it. I just try to be nice as a first option. I smile at her.

Me: *In a super cheerful voice* “Sorry, don’t have any!”

Woman: “Why not? That’s super dangerous! See all this snow? What if I slip? What company do you work for? What the name of it? I’m going to call up my landlord and have your companies contract cancelled!”

My smiled just gets bigger and bigger as she is talking.

Me: “Lady, I don’t work here; I live here.”

I pointed to my living room window. Her face went instantly red. I was going to mess with her a bit more, but she just muttered something under her breath and hurried off. It gave me the laugh I needed to finish out my morning.

But wait. There’s more!

She actually called the landlord! She claimed I swore at her and she complained that I didn’t shovel her stairs; she said nothing about salt, though. Apparently, she makes monthly complaints about all sorts of things. The takeaway of our conversation with the landlord was that this was a normal interaction with this woman and unless someone is dying, I should ignore her for my own sake.

I’m Not Your Bro And My Dog Isn’t, Either

, , , , , , | Friendly | CREDIT: Ghoul_Prince_reddit | September 2, 2020

I live in a large apartment complex and a lot of people like to mess with my dog, but this one entitled dude takes the cake.

Entitled Dude: “Hey, that’s a nice dog. What breed?”

Me: “Thanks. He’s a pit mix.”

Entitled Dude: “How old is he?”

Me: “Almost five.”

I continue walking.

Entitled Dude: “How much do you want for him?”

Me: “What? He’s not for sale. He’s my ESA.”

Entitled Dude: “What’s an ESA? And name your price.”

Me: “Emotional support animal, and no. He’s not for sale.”

Entitled Dude: “You don’t need a dog for emotional support; he’s a pit bull, anyway. That’s a fighting dog. Let me buy him; I can make lots off of him.”

Me: “Dude. He’s not for sale. Just leave us alone.”

Entitled Dude: “Come on, man. Everyone has a price; name it.”

Me: “This is the last time I’m saying this. He. Is. Not. For. Sale. Bye.”

This dude proceeds to follow me on the rest of our walk back to my apartment building. I get nervous because I notice he’s walking behind me.

Me: “Dude, stop following me. You got a problem?”

Entitled Dude: “Nah, bro. I just want your dog, bro. Come on, bro!”

Me: “I’m not your bro, and no. Seriously, f*** off. You’re not having my dog. Come near me or my dog again and you’re gonna end up in the hospital.”

He leaves.

Four hours later, I am walking my dog again and a police officer comes up to talk to me and asks if I am who I am. I say yes, and he says he was called because I threatened to stab someone. I tell him the situation, tell him who the guy was, and show him a video of the guy following me. He just apologizes for the situation and goes to find the guy. So, yeah. People suck.

A week goes by and my wife is walking my dog because I am in the shower. I get out to five missed calls and thirty text messages. This guy tried to STEAL MY DOG from my wife. He talked to her for a minute and then tried grabbing my dog by the harness and taking off, but my dog slipped out of his hand and a neighbor stopped him from hurting my wife or dog.

He tried hitting my VERY pregnant wife before the neighbor tackled him. They called the police and he got arrested for stalking, assault, and attempted kidnapping. In my state, ESAs are considered people and are taken very seriously. The nerve on this guy.


This story is part of our Best Of September 2020 roundup!

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Junk Mail Is Inevitable, Even If You Die

, , , , , , , | Working | August 21, 2020

I was living in the same building as my landlady. Her husband passed away while I was living there, and five years later, a certain organization is still sending him mail every four months offering a large discount — in bold letters on the envelope — when he renews his subscription. I try to intercept these as much as possible, which isn’t too bad because my landlady has become an invalid and most nurses and assistants coming in to tend to her don’t recognize the name and leave it in the hallway.  

As she is put to bed fairly early and is unable to get up, I’ve made a habit of checking in with her in the evening before going to bed to see if she needs anything. If she happens to receive a letter addressed to her deceased husband, I’m sure to hear her life story and how unhappy it was all over again, so intercepting the mail isn’t totally selfless. 

Each time I intercept the letter, I return it, marked “deceased”. After five years, I have had enough of it and, frustrated, I cross out the address and write, “Moved – new address – [Famous Local Cemetery] – plot to be asked for”.

The letters have finally stopped.

I sometimes wonder if they finally got the message or if the cemetery is receiving junk mail now.


This story is part of our Best Of August 2020 roundup!

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It’s Free Real Estate

, , , , | Friendly | August 17, 2020

I’ve just moved into an apartment building, and nobody told me that it comes with a storage unit. I only notice when I go to do my laundry. I’m single and living alone and don’t have a lot of stuff. Nevertheless, I put a lock on my unit. The units are see-through so you can tell that there’s nothing in mine.

Soon, my upstairs neighbor stops me and asks bluntly if he can use my unit. I immediately say no; what if he puts something illegal there and I get blamed? I don’t even know him! He asks again and I say no again and practically run away.

Soon after, I notice that my lock has been cut with something and my unit is full of paints! I’m furious. I cut the new lock off, fill my unit up, and lock it again. This seems to please the neighbor.

But really, who sees someone’s empty unit and thinks, “Hmm, I’ll steal it!”? A child in man skin.

I report him to the manager, but then, another upstairs neighbor tries to steal my empty parking space. They really need to screen better.

All Rent Out Of Shape, Part 2

, , , , , | Right | August 15, 2020

This might be an “Am I The A**hole?” moment.

I work in the office of an apartment building. Due to recent events, we have several of our renters “on hold” as far as rent is concerned, with plans to work out payment options as things get back to normal. The apartment owners have been very understanding about the whole thing and are very willing to work with renters in this troubling time.

However, one of the precautions we’ve taken is that we are only fulfilling emergency maintenance orders — things like sudden leaks, sparking outlets, or other issues that would be actually dangerous to leave untreated. All others we are holding off on until it is safer.

I answer a call.

Me: “Hello, this is [Apartment]. How can I help you today?”

Caller: “When is the maintenance guy getting here?!”

I vaguely recognize their voice.

Me: “I’m so sorry; I don’t think we have anyone scheduled as coming out today. What was the emergency?”

Caller: “My door!”

This jogs my memory a bit, and I page through to an email that came in over the weekend.

Me: “Mrs. [Caller]?”

Caller: “Yes! When is he getting here to fix my door?!”

Me: “Unfortunately, as we stated in our response to your request, a squeaking door hinge is not considered to be a valid emergency at this time, and so is not something that we can have someone come out to fix. You could—”

Caller: “Unacceptable! That’s is not acceptable! I pay you [slurs] a lot of money; you should be jumping to get this fixed!”

Me: *Not really thinking* “Oh, really? I didn’t know you’d started paying rent again.”

There was dead silence on the other side before she followed with an angry wordless shout and then hung up. I feel somewhat bad for calling her out, but on the other hand, she really isn’t paying anything to stay here right now, so I don’t think she really has grounds to be demanding that people come and risk exposure for something like a squeaky door.

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All Rent Out Of Shape