(I live in a four-story apartment building in downtown Vancouver where the two exit stairwells are used regularly by residents to enter and exit the building. They act as a sort of communal back door that can be opened just as the front door can be. I often use the back door as it is the closest doorway to my apartment. One evening, I am leaving to take my dog for a walk and take the usual route down the stairs and to the back door. However, when I get to the exit and push on the door it won’t budge, so I push again harder this time and continue to try to push it open. When it still doesn’t move, I look out the little window and see a man just outside the door.)

Man: *muffled speaking as the door is closed* “There is a woman sitting in front of the door.”

(There is more muffled speaking between the woman and the man. I push on the door again thinking she must have moved, and I still feel resistance. When I push again, it finally moves as she has gotten on her feet and is moving away from the door.)

Me: “What are you two doing out here?”

Man: *says nothing*

Lady: *angry* “I was just trying to find a place to eat a sandwich and smoke a joint! I don’t see what the problem with that is?!”

(Smoking weed is legal in this province but is still subject to bylaws of smoking away from doorways.)

Me: “One: this is a doorway and you need to be like 15 feet away from it as there are private residences right above you. Two: you are blocking a fire exit!“

(My dog is barking at them, and lucky for me, he has a big deep bark so he sounds much scarier than he actually is.)

Me: “You need to leave and find somewhere else to be.”

(The lady and man then left in an angry huff. The average age of the occupants in my building is probably 60+; I’m one of the only occupants in my 20s. Any one of my neighbors with walkers would definitely not have been able to exit safely in an emergency. It still makes me so angry to think about how thoughtless and dangerous this lady was being.)

(A year ago, my husband and I moved down the hall in our apartment building to a different unit. During that move, we were asked to take our blinds and curtains to be professionally cleaned by a particular business on the other side of the city. We did it, handed in our receipts as requested, and were annoyed to find out that we weren’t getting reimbursed for it. Whatever, not the end of the world. Fast forward a year: we are moving out of the country. My husband has already flown out, so I am alone to pack, clean, and move everything into storage. I do not take the blinds and curtains to be professionally cleaned this time around, as I know I won’t get reimbursed, and our vehicle has been sold by this point anyway. I am handing in the keys to the property manager as my in-laws are waiting with the rest of my things in their car.)

Property Manager: “Okay, everything looks pretty good. Do you have your receipts from [Business] for the blinds and curtains?”

Me: “Nope. I didn’t do it this time.”

Property Manager: “What? You were asked to have them cleaned. This means that we’ll be taking [cost] from your damage deposit, you know.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s fine. It’s still cheaper than doing it myself.”

Property Manager: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Last year, we paid [cost] for the cleaning, plus probably about [additional cost] for gas money, and we had to coordinate two different days for drop-off and pick-up. We never got reimbursed. It’s actually cheaper and easier for a tenant to not take them to be cleaned.”

Property Manager: “But [cost] will still be taken out of your damage deposit.”

Me: “Yes. I am okay with that. As I said, it’s still less expensive than doing it myself. Sorry.”

Property Manager: “But we require everyone to get this done. You won’t get your whole damage deposit back.”

Me: *sigh* “I understand that. But I am also not getting reimbursed for having them cleaned, so I’m losing money either way. Honestly, I don’t know why anyone bothers to do it.”

(I left shortly after, and he still couldn’t understand why I didn’t take them in to get cleaned.)

(I have just moved into an apartment in Orlando. It’s a converted fisherman’s village by a lake, and each small building has three tiny apartments. After I finish all the paperwork, I ask the company who owns the building this.)

Me: “By the way, do you know what company provides Internet access to these apartments?”

Employee: “I believe that would be [Telcom #1].”

Me: “Great, thanks.”

(Later on, I go to [Telcom #1]’s storefront. I talk to a salesperson there and we start getting me signed up.)

Employee: “What’s your address?”

Me: “[Address].”

Employee: “I’m not seeing that. Where is that?”

Me: “It’s just down the road from here, about a mile or less.”

Employee: “And what was that again?”

Me: “[Address].”

Employee: “Yeah… That’s not on our service map. We just don’t have the infrastructure there to get you connected. Sorry. We can’t give you Internet.”

Me: “Oh, bummer. Sorry for wasting your time.”

(I leave. Using public Wi-Fi, I do a search for my new zip code and Internet providers and am given a list. I call a second telcom.)

Me: “Hi. I’m checking to see if you guys provide Internet connections to my address?” *gives address*

Telcom #2: “Hmm… Mo, I’m sorry, we’re not showing that on our service map.”

(This repeats for every single Internet provider and telephone company that provides service in my zip code. I call, they check my address, and nothing comes up. One or two of them even recommend I try [Telcom #1]. After I run out of new companies to call, I call the leasing office again.)

Me: “Hi. I recently moved into [Property] and I was wondering if you guys had any information on who provides Internet there?”

Lease Office Employee: “Sorry, we don’t. You would have to do a search for your zip code and call the local companies.”

Me: “Uh… okay, great. Thank you.”

(By this point, I’ve gotten friendly with my neighbors and I stop by when they’re hanging out outside one evening.)

Me: “Hey, I have a question. You guys have Internet, right?”

Neighbor: “Yeah, of course.”

Me: “Who’s your provider?”

Neighbor: “[Telcom #1].”

Me: “Are you serious?”

Neighbor: “Yeah.”

(He reaches into his apartment and picks up a bill off of a little mail table by the door. He opens it up and shows me.)

Neighbor: “They’ve been providing me Internet since I moved in here.”

Me: *with barely contained frustration* “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

(The next day is my day off, so I call [Telcom #1].)

Me: “Hi. I’m looking to set up an Internet connection at my address.” *gives address*

Telcom #1: “Let me look that up… No, I’m sorry, we don’t provide Internet to that location.”

Me: “Okay, but my neighbor says you do and he has Internet from you.”

Telcom #1: “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m looking at my service map right now and we don’t provide service to that area. We don’t have any infrastructure.”

Me: “I literally saw the bill with my own eyes. You are billing my neighbor for Internet and he lives in a building like twelve feet from mine.”

Telcom #1: “I really don’t know why that would be. We absolutely do not provide Internet to your address or any address in your neighborhood.”

(There’s a long pause as I try to think of some way to make sense of this.)

Telcom #1: “We provide DSL Internet, though.”

Me: *pause* “Beg pardon?”

Telcom #1: “We don’t provide Internet, but we provide DSL Internet.”

Me: “So… you don’t provide Internet… but you provide DSL Internet.”

Telcom #1: “Yeah. Why? Is that something you would be interested in?”

Me: “Yes, it would.”

(Fortunately, they eventually connected me to the DSL Internet… which was extremely different from the Internet.)

I rent the lowest apartment, which is halfway in the ground. It means I spend less on cooling and heating, but everyone else’s actions affect me. Here’s a good example.

One winter, our hallway light went off. We went to change it, but the glass bowl around it was filled with water! We immediately called the emergency maintenance line. Someone came within an hour, looked at our light, and then ran upstairs.

It was three days before we got the full story and our light fixed. The neighbor’s pipes started leaking, but they did nothing. “Just a small leak,” they said to him. But something that is constantly leaking can flood the entire floor. The neighbors had let it go for at least a week. If it weren’t for my report, our ceiling could have caved in! They would have been responsible for thousands of dollars worth of damage and we would have no home. As is, they still spent several hundred fixing the ceiling.

This is why I try not to let anything go, no matter how minor it seems.

(We live on the ground floor of a series of flats. Recently, a family moved into the flat one floor up. They have kids who are constantly stomping about, but we let it go, as that is the cost of living in a flat. However, things change when we have a small get-together one evening. We aren’t especially loud, though one of our guests is a bit of a loud talker. After about half an hour, we get a pounding on our door. I answer to find the wife of the family upstairs glaring at me.)

Neighbor: “Keep it down! People are trying to sleep.”

(It’s only around half-past seven at this point.)

Me: “Really? Well, bully for them.”

Neighbor: “You’re being rude.”

Me: *stepping fully out of the door* “No, the one being rude is the hypocrite who allows her children to stomp around and jump on the floor before dawn each morning, and then comes down to try and scold someone for not being entirely silent in the evening. Keep your brats under control for just one day, and then you can come to talk to us about noise.”

(In case it wasn’t obvious, I’d been practicing this exact sort of speech in my head for weeks, and I was actually rather excited to be able to use it. I still kept a scowl on my face, while our charming neighbor went white, stammered out something that might have been an apology, and scurried off back upstairs. Her kids are still as noisy as ever, but they’ve never again tried to complain about us making noise.)