(I have worked for this company for a full summer as a way to make money to help pay for university. One of the bosses is an almost-70-year-old man that does as much work as he can at his age and is very easy to get along with; however, the other is just a boss and someone that likes to do things her way without thinking of others. On this particular day, I have been sent to do some mowing, which I have done since I was 12 with my family and absolutely hate. My coworker and I are at a residence, and just as we are finishing up I get a call.)

Female Boss: “Hello, are you still at [First Property]?”

Me: “Yes, we were just about to finish up actually and take off. Why? What’s up?”

Female Boss: “I just got a call wondering if we would be able to go mow a lawn for the first time this year. I’ll send you the directions.”

(It is already June, which means that the grass has been growing for approximately six weeks, causing it to be very long. As my coworker and I come to the property, we notice that the grass is out of control. Luckily, we have a very good ride-on mower and a heavy-duty whipper-snipper, but still, it will take a while to do. After we finish mowing we have to rake, which takes as long as the mowing itself. Once we are finished, we load up the machines, but before we can leave the woman who owns the house runs out.)

Homeowner: “Thank you so much for this. My husband is a fisherman and I usually have to mow the whole lawn myself with just a push mower, but it was broken and we just got it fixed. Without you guys, it would have taken me days to mow this.”

Coworker: “It was not a problem; it’s our job!”

Homeowner: “Well, I appreciate it. Here. Take this.”

(She handed us each a bottle of water and $5 as a tip. We refused but she insisted. Even though I hate mowing, it is people like her that make it bearable, and thanks to her $5 I was able to buy an energy drink, which always makes my day easier!)

(At the factory where I work, coworkers suddenly start writing “funny” messages on the doors and walls of our toilets. It turns out it’s some kind of contest between them. Clearly, management isn’t thrilled, and issues a memo that if anyone is caught in the act they’ll be fired on the spot. But since these are toilets, it is illegal to install camera surveillance. Without any means of surveillance, the memo has no effect and the walls and doors get smeared with more new “funnies” every day. One day, the maintenance department thinks they’ve found a solution in a paint that is supposed to be resistant against all sorts of pens, markers, crayons, etc. They invite a salesman to demonstrate the product. The man comes in with a lot of samples and we all get to try to write on the samples with anything we can come up with: markers, pens, lipstick, pencils, and even spray paint. Nothing sticks to the samples. The salesman cleans every sample without any effort.)

Head Maintenance: “That’s nice. But I want to see this stuff on one door of our toilets.”

Salesman: “Sure you can. I’ll treat one of your doors with our product, but you’ll have to sign this order for it first.”

Head Maintenance: “There’s no way I’m going to buy a product if I haven’t tested it in real life. That’s why we asked for a demonstration in the first place. We’re done.”

(Management found a cheaper solution. They painted the toilets and hired someone to clean the toilets whenever workers used them. That man also checked the toilets for new scribbles. As a result, two coworkers were fired. The walls and doors stayed clean.)

Our property manager sends the building tenants a notice that the maintenance team will be coming in to check smoke detectors and take some photos for possible future upgrades.

My fiancé responds to the email to inform the manager that we have the front door blocked off with a small craft desk — we only use the back/outside stairs — so the team will need to enter through the back door. We also remind them that we have a cat and they need to be mindful of her when entering and existing.

The day comes and they do their thing while my fiancé and I are at work. When my fiancé gets home, he finds they have moved the desk halfway into our bedroom, knocked over everything that was on it, and shut the bathroom door in the process. That means they shut our cat out of her litter box for who knows how long and completely disrespected our simple request. There’s no way they could have gotten into the front door with the desk and chain lock still in place, so they went out of their way to move all of this stuff when they left, rather than using the outside doors to go to the next apartment.

(I am attending university and have started my third year. After some bad experiences with roommates, I have moved into an on-campus apartment where I live by myself. Everything is just fine until I come back from visiting my parents over winter break. One morning when I wake up and start to get ready for class, I notice an odd sound, like someone has turned on a garden hose and left it running at high volume. Because it’s winter, this seems very strange, but I need to eat and get to class so I put it out of my mind and continue on with my day. By the time I get home that evening, the sound is still going, and I manage to figure out where it seems to be coming from, so I submit a ticket to maintenance describing the sound and explaining that it is coming from somewhere beneath my ground floor apartment. The next day, I get a call from the maintenance office.)

Maintenance: “We have a ticket that says you think someone left a hose running on the premises?”

Me: “I don’t know if that’s what it is, but I’m hearing a lot of water running.”

Maintenance: “We don’t have any hoses out right now; are you sure you’re hearing water?”

Me: “Yes. It sounds like a lot of it, too.”

Maintenance: “Is there water on your floor?”

Me: “No, but it sounds like whatever it is is below my apartment.”

Maintenance: “If there’s no water, there’s nothing we can do. If you have no further questions, I am closing your ticket.”

(The whole conversation is a bit odd, but I don’t have much to report other than the sound. It continues non-stop for two weeks before the water pressure in my apartment suddenly dips. I send in another ticket and request that maintenance come by on an afternoon when I’ll be home so I can ask a few questions. When the maintenance person shows up, it’s the same man I talked to on the phone. I turn on the sink in the kitchenette and the faucet in the bathtub to show him that it’s not just a problem with one fixture when he asks about it. He tinkers around for a while before declaring that it’ll probably solve itself in a couple of days. Before he leaves, I ask about the running water sound. It’s been ongoing since he arrived, and it’s very loud.)

Maintenance: *giving me a skeptical look* “That’s your heating unit kicking on.”

Me: “Why does my heating unit sound like running water?”

(He shrugs and leaves. At this point I don’t want to argue because I need to head to work. As the semester continues, however, I find myself becoming increasingly concerned. Whatever this is, there is a lot of water involved, and whenever I try to talk to maintenance about it, they completely dismiss my concerns. By the time spring break rolls around, I have gotten the housing department involved in the hopes that they will take this more seriously. At one time or another, I have spoken to a majority of the maintenance staff, and I get the feeling they’re now convinced I’m a nuisance caller. Since I’ll be gone over the break and I want to get this dealt with, I print off copies of each ticket I’ve submitted and make a recording of the sound on my phone before heading over to the housing office to talk to someone in person. I am assured they’ll look into it and leave a few days later. I’m out with my parents when I start receiving frantic emails and a couple of phone calls. When I can, I answer the phone.)

Housing Rep: “Hello? Is this [My Name]?”

Me: “Yes, hello. May I ask who this is?”

Housing Rep: “This is Student Housing. I’m calling regarding your apartment on campus. The building has been condemned by the city, and we’re trying to move all student residents to other units. Do you have a preference for where you would like to move?”

Me: “Wait. My apartment is condemned? What happened?”

Housing Rep: “Due to a leak in the water main, the city has declared the building unsafe for residents. We are evacuating all apartments above the leak and moving you into alternative housing.”

(When I got back and went in to move my stuff, I found out that they had an “oh, s***” moment after jackhammering into the concrete pad under my apartment. I guess three months of leaking water destabilizes the ground when you’ve got buildings on a sandy floodplain. Who knew?)

(I work in the maintenance department for a company that occasionally hosts meetings for outside clientele. Calls come over the radio whenever there is an issue.)

Radio: “Maintenance on the air.”

Me: “Go ahead.”

Radio: “Hey, can you run up to [meeting room]? [Client] says their TV isn’t working.”

Me: “Copy. I’ll be right up.”

(I run up the stairs instead of waiting on the elevator, since the building is quite busy and these clients aren’t particularly known for their patience. By the time I get there…)

Client: “Oh, we fixed it. It was on VGA instead of HDMI. Sorry!”

Me: *panting slightly* “…no problem.”