How Dare You Have Preferences?!

, , , , , | Working | April 10, 2020

(I’m a uni student and I just started working at my family’s courier. Both the campus and my job are about ten minutes apart but in a different city from where my boyfriend — also a student — and I live. We live about a one-hour commute away, driving on a road very prone to jams, accidents, and in general making people late. I’ve been searching for a flat closer for about two months when I spot one I like that allows pets, which is a must since we have a cat. I call the agency five times during their open hours, at two different numbers they provided in the ad, but they never answer. Two days later, an unknown number calls in the middle of work, at an hour the ad stated they weren’t open.)

Me: “Hello?” 

Agent: “Good morning! We had a missing call from this number.” 

Me: “Oh, you must be from [Agency]! Yes, I wanted to ask about that flat in [Street] and…”

Agent: “Well, sadly, that’s been rented off for a month already.”

(The ad was from a month ago and didn’t say such when I last checked it.)

Me: “Oh, well, that’s a shame. Do you happen to have anything in the area? I need a place that allows pets, by the way.”

Agent: “Of course! We have something lovely in [Street in the dead center of the city, as opposed to the outskirts area I was interested in] at [nearly double the price].”

Me: “Um… Sorry, but I was actually looking for something nearer the campus.” 

Agent: “What? You can’t expect to find a student housing that allows pets.” 

Me: “I… don’t? I want something for the whole year, someplace that won’t just kick us out in June to rent it at double the price for tourists.”

Agent: “Well, then, the place I just told you is just what you want.” 

Me: “No, I don’t want to drive around the middle of the city to go to class everyday.”

Agent: “Well, you can just take the bus.” 

Me: *rather incredulously* “I… Sorry, no? My boyfriend is disabled and he can’t just stand by on the bus for a whole hour and a half.”

Agent: “He could just sit!” 

Me: “At that hour in the morning? Besides, he doesn’t want to have to argue with old people about who are entitled to use the special seats.”

Agent: “Well, he can just kick them out!” 

Me: “Sorry, what?!”

(I mean, she is not wrong, but don’t just say that, dude!) 

Me: “No, sorry. No. I really want something nearer the campus.”

(We go back and forth for a while, and I force her to progressively pull things from closer to the area I want, until…)

Me: “Okay, that sounds really nice. And that closed gallery you told me about sounds perfect for our cat.”

Agent: “Cat? No! It doesn’t allow pets.” 

(In the end, I found something. Without her help.)

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I Set Up The Payments And I Will Now Set The Phone Down

, , , , , | Working | March 27, 2020

(I’m married. While I love my husband very much, he’s not great with the administrative work of running a household. Because of this, I’m the one filling out forms, paying bills, lodging maintenance requests, etc. I work full-time; he is looking for work. Both our names are on the lease but my phone number is the primary contact. Our property manager has just changed, and the new guy is pretty old-fashioned. I get a call.)

Me: “[My Name] speaking.”

Property Manager: “Hello. Can I talk to the head of the household?”

Me: “This is she.”

Property Manager: “I mean [Husband].”

Me: *passing the phone to him* “It’s for you.”

(He listens to the phone for a few seconds, growing increasingly confused.)

Husband: “Uh… I don’t know about that. You should speak to my wife. She’s the one who set up those payments.”

(I get the phone back. It turns out that the property manager wants to know why we are paying by direct deposit instead of a rent card. I tell him I don’t want to pay a $2 fee every week just to pay my own rent, and I’m not interested in changing it. His last comment is a kicker.)

Property Manager: “I don’t get why [Husband] couldn’t tell me this. The head of the household should know what’s going on under their roof!”

Me: “She does, though.”

Property Manager: *click*

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Mothers Die, But Oedipus Complexes Live On

, , , , | Right | February 25, 2020

I work at a housing company. We have over 50,000 houses, so it happens once in a while: tenants die on us.

Me:
“Good morning, this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

The caller is an adult male.

Caller:
“My mother died.”

Me:
“I am so sorry to hear that, sir, my condolences. What can I do for you?”

Caller:
“I want to cancel her contract.”

Me:
“Of course, sir, let me pull up her contract and help you. What was her name?”

Caller:
“Mom.”

Me:
“Yes, but I mean her name on the contract.”

Caller:
“Mom.”

Me:
“I see… and where did she live; what was her home address?”

Caller:
“[Address].”

Me:
“Thank you. I see that the contract was under the name of Mrs. [Tenant], is that correct?”

Caller:
“Yes, but that was not her name.”

Me:
“I have the wrong address?”

Caller:
“No, it’s right… but her name was Mom! I keep on telling you that!”

Me:
“All right, I understand now. Now, to cancel her contract I need a [form] and a death certificate. Could you send that to me?”

Caller:
“Yes, but they listed the wrong name!”

I have a feeling where this is heading.

Me:
“Did they list [Tenant] as a name?”

Caller:
*Sounding upset* “Yes!”

Me:
“That is exactly the one I need. Please send it to me and we’ll cancel your mother’s contract for you.”

This issue gets dealt with and the contract ends nicely for both us and her son. I think this situation is an exception and think nothing about it. However, two weeks later, I get a call from another adult male:

Other Caller:
“I want to cancel my mother’s contract because she died.”

Me:
“I’m so sorry to hear that, sir. What was her name?”

Other Caller:
“Mom, her name was Mom.”

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Making A Clean Break

, , , , , | Working | December 26, 2019

(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.)

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Play Possum Until It’s Gone

, , , , , , | Right | November 23, 2019

(I work maintenance for a property management company and often carry a work phone to take after-hours maintenance calls.)

Me: “[Company] repair line, this is [My Name]; what can I do for you?”

Tenant: “Miss [My Name], you aren’t going to believe this. There’s a baby possum in my house. Can you send someone out to come to get him?! I’m scared he’s gonna come up my stairs and climb in my bed or something while I’m sleeping!”

Me: *trying not to laugh* “Unfortunately, ma’am, due to state laws, none of our pest control specialists can remove it. You’re going to have to call the Department of Fish and Game and see if they can come out and remove him.”

Tenant: “Are you sure you can’t send someone out sooner?”

Me: “I’m sure, ma’am. It would be illegal.”

Tenant: “Okay. I don’t think they’re open right now so I guess I’ll have to call them in the morning. Miss [My Name]?” 

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Tenant: “Possums can’t climb stairs, can they?”

Me: “I think you should be safe if it’s small enough.”

Tenant: “Okay. Okay, thank you, Miss [My Name].” 

(She called me the next morning to tell me the saga of how her neighbor came over and managed to herd the baby possum out of her home.)

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