I deal with a doctor who rents a clinic office in a professional building for doctors and other medical professionals. One of the terms of her lease is that she is locked in for a period of five years unless she dies, retires, or sells her practice to someone willing to assume her lease.

I get an email from this doctor.

Doctor: “Hello, I am retiring from my practice and wish to terminate my lease. Please send me the paperwork required to terminate the lease.”

I dutifully do up the paperwork for ending her lease and reply to her email.

Me: “Hello, [Doctor], please find attached the application to end the lease. If you could provide us with a copy of your notice to the College of Physicians retiring your practice, we will begin processing your application.”

Not ten minutes later, I get a phone call. It’s the doctor, and she’s irate.

Me: “Hello, [Doctor], what can I help you with?”

Doctor: “I can’t believe that you are trying to force me out of a job! You’ve asked me to retire! I don’t want to retire! How dare you imply that I’m not fit to do my job?!”

Me: “[Doctor], we asked for your retirement paperwork because you specifically informed us that you were looking to get out of your lease because you are retiring. Is that not true?”

Doctor: “Of course it’s not true! I don’t want to retire; I just want to get out of my lease!”

Me: “I’m sorry, [Doctor], but your lease clearly states that you are responsible for the full term of five years unless you die, retire, or assign your practice.”

Doctor: “I know that!”

Me: “So are you retiring, or are you staying with your practice?”

Doctor: “I’m not retiring! You’re an idiot!” *Click*

I work for a housing company. I have this approximate exchange via email.

Day 1:

Customer: “I need to cancel my mother’s rental agreement. She has dementia and was admitted.”

Me: “I am so sorry to hear that. Here is the cancellation form. If she can no longer sign herself, we need proof of that — for example, a power of attorney from the courthouse, or her registration at the facility with her moving notice made at city hall.”

Customer: “She can no longer sign herself. She has dementia. She has no idea what is going on.”

Me: “I understand. Please give us proof, like [same as listed above] or anything else that is a legal document.”

Day 2: 

Customer: “I don’t have that.”

Me: “I understand, but we are not allowed to cancel a rental contract without the signature of your mother or any other proof.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “It is to protect your mother. We don’t want to make any mistakes, and we want to handle this delicate case correctly. Plus, it’s the law.”

Day 3: 

Customer: “But my mother has dementia and I am her son!”

Me: “I understand, but we need proof. Any kind of proof.”

Customer: “Why are you making this so hard? This is an old lady we are talking about!”

Me: “And we want to do this right for your mother. But again, we need proof.”

Day 4: 

Customer: “My mother rented this place for decades! Is this how you treat your loyal customers? She always paid on time, never raised a fuss, never asked for repairs… You are a cruel and heartless lot!”

Me: “Again, I understand your concerns, but we need proof to avoid fraud. Please arrange the proof needed and fill in the attached form.”

It was at that point that I also sent a copy of this interaction to our Fraud Department. I get that you don’t want to fill in forms, but four days have passed and this could’ve been dealt with within one or two days. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to cancel the rent of someone else out of malicious intent.

I work for a housing company. A client calls me.

Me: *Opening spiel* “How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, I am calling you about my son. He’s twenty-five years old.”

Me: “Okay? And what’s the question?”

Caller: “Oh, I have no question. I just want you guys to send him a letter that it’s time to move out.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Caller: “He’s twenty-five years old! He’s old enough to get his own place! I’m tired of him hanging around here! I told him to move out over and over again, but he won’t listen to me. So, I want you guys to evict him.”

Me: “I’m looking at your contract and it seems you are the only one listed here.”

Caller: “Yes, that’s right.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry to say it, but that means we have no legal connection to your son, only to you. We can’t evict him for you.”

Caller: “What?! But he’s twenty-five! I don’t want him living here anymore!”

Me: “I understand, but he’s your son. If you want him out of there, you can either convince him yourself or ask a judge to give him a restraining order, so he can’t enter your house anymore.”

Caller: “Whaaaaat?! You want me to sue my own son?!”

Me: “It’s the only legal way to get someone out of your home, ma’am. Your contract states you started living here over thirty years ago and the contract states that children may live in that house without separate permission from the housing company. The contract also states that you are responsible for your children, if they live there.”

Caller: “But his music is so UGH!” *Frustrated scream* “The neighbours are starting to complain.”

Me: “He is your son. I’m sorry, ma’am, but he’s your responsibility.”

Caller: “UGH! Thanks for nothing!” *Hangs up* 

Just FYI: if the neighbours are starting to complain to us, we can only punish the mother, because she is responsible. So, if nothing changes and the mother takes no action, it could result in her herself getting evicted (with her son). Let’s hope both mother and son grow up.

Next door to us is a rented house; we don’t know the owners but we get along with the tenants.

No one takes care of the gardens on the property and weeds and plants grow wild. I guess the tenants should take more care, but they seem to not even use the outside space. We trim what comes over to our side and ignore what’s happening over the fence. 

Over the years, the tree growing in the back gets bigger and grows further over the bounties. I trim outside, but no one does the back fence that is shared by the car park.

One stormy day, I notice the branches sway and creek. Underneath is a guy’s shiny BMW. In chatting with him, it’s his pride and joy; he is worried about the tree but has nowhere else to park it.

I can’t stand to see what happens next, so I do some sleuthing and find the agents who manage the house; the tenants “forgot” or don’t care enough to look.

Me: “Hi, do you manage [address]?”

Agent: “I’m sorry, I cannot divulge that information.”

Me: “Ah, okay. Well, just so you know, if you do, they have a tree that is surely going to lose a branch, which will crash into a new BMW that parks underneath.”

Agent: “As I said, I cannot divulge that information.”

Me: “Err… Yeah, I’m not asking you to. I’m sure if I was the owner I would want to know about a possible lawsuit if you were representing me.”

Agent: “And I cannot tell you if we manage that particular property.”

Me: “Okay, this is going nowhere. If you represent them, then tell them.”

She tries to interrupt but I carry on

Me: “Either way, I will be putting a letter through the door, marked for their attention, to say that I have contacted you on this date to inform you.”

Agent: “As I said, we cannot divulge—”

I hung up. She wasn’t getting it. Or, she was just being belligerent. I wrote the letter, marked it as “For owner,” and gave it to the tenants. They didn’t care about any of this and told me that they hadn’t seen the owner in months, anyway.

I gave up; it felt like a marathon trying to help anyone. Next year, another storm hit, and a sizable branch broke off and smashed the windscreen of the BMW and scratched a load of the paintwork. It sat there for months as the resulting legal work carried on.

The owner came round to shout at me for not telling them or not making enough of an effort. I told them where to go in short words they would understand and slammed the door.

My friend suddenly inherits a small house. An old lady has been renting the property for nearly a year beforehand; after tax, it isn’t worth much, but my friend hopes this could become an investment, so he keeps her on as a tenant.

The lady immediately starts complaining: this needs painting, this needs fixing, etc. Most of it is superficial, but my friend wants to build a good relationship, so he does as much as he can himself. Ultimately, he has to pay a professional to do most of it as he doesn’t have the skill or time.

Then, the demands become more and more frequent, outlandish, and ridiculous. 

Old Lady: “I want my garden sorted.”

Friend: “Oh, what’s wrong with it?”

Old Lady: “It’s all weeds and lawn. I’m old and need a hard surface to walk on.”

Friend: “Weeds are your responsibility, and there is already a patio.”

Old Lady: “I can’t weed! I’m an old woman. No, you need to come round and do it!”

Friend: “I’m not coming round and doing your garden for you, and you already have paving slabs. I am not turning the garden into a concrete car park.”

Old Lady: “Well, I am going to report you; this place is unsafe. There are so many problems; it’s not right.”

She carries on her tirade until my friend just puts the phone down. The house is old but well maintained and he has so far lost money with all the little fixes. She starts to call at all hours; if he is at work or college, she rings until he answers or he turns his phone off.

She eventually puts in a complaint to the local council who have to visit the house; they give it a clean bill of health. This is the last straw.

Old Lady: “What is this?”

Friend: “An eviction notice. I am not renewing your tenancy. I want you out.”

Old Lady: “Where will I go?”

Friend: “Live under a bridge with the other trolls?”

She left, and eventually, he sold the house rather than deal with more people like her again. I think after relocating and agent fees, he only made a few thousand.

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