We had a tenant that we had to evict on our first month doing this job. He arranged to have some storage units dropped off because he was going to couch surf for awhile. He asked where they should be put. I think the easiest place would be the parking spot closest to the door. This is an outdoor parking lot, with no numbers or lettering to assign parking.
No numbers. In any way. Nothing to indicate where you would park. Just want to be clear here-its a blank piece of asphalt(with a few weeds)
Anyway. It so happened that he parked his storage unit where this guy usually parked, and was told by the previous manager was 'his' spot.
So he calls all angry. To be honest, he has one of those. "even when I'm happy I sound angry" accents. I think its a result of dictatorship rule.Someone should author a study. He can't park in his spot! The world is ending.
So I ask, "well, can you park next to it?" In the blank, wide open space adjacent to the storage unit.
"That isn't my spot. This is."
Awesome. The logic runs deep in this one.
I finally talk him down from the ledge and convince him that maybe next to the storage unit would work given its 10pm and I don't give a shit.
I'm getting in my car the next day, and I hear some strange sounds coming from the rear parking lot. Its this guy, dragging some old furniture out of the covered parking.
So I yell down, "hey dude. What up?"
"Well, I can't park in my spot, so I'm going to park here."
So, just to paint a portrait here. Parking next to the offending storage unit is too easy. Instead, we'll drag the crusty furniture out, where it will become wet and crusty furniture and you will now take that spot, which just so happens to be destined to become MY parking spot.
So i tell him no. Put the furniture back where it was, and I tell him I don't care what his issue is, he can park next to the box, or on the street.
And I can feel it coming. I see it before he thinks it. It's getting closer. And he says it.
"you know, you don't care about my issue because I'm black."
And for a second, I actually pause to consider the professionalism of my response, but its too late. My mouth has opened:
"dude, its not that I don't like you because you are black. I don't like you because you are a prick."
First month on the job, and I've already opened myself up to be fired. Or promoted as it turns out. My employers get my sense of humour. The conversation kind of ends on that bombshell.
Then on christmas eve, he decides to steal someone else's parking spot. Dinosaur had to go and mediate that one at 11pm.
Then, after the storage unit went away, several others parked their cars in his spot, and he took to blocking them in. Once, at 2 in the morning, we had an all out fight in the lobby, involving me calling tow trucks, to which he sat in his car and played chicken. Another time, he had blocked another girl in and at 7 in the morning I had to fight with him to get him to move the car.
Finally, I ended up filing for eviction, but managed to break him enough to finally understand the issue and then he moved. My file to support the eviction was thick by the time we were done with him.
It actually worked, that after coming very close to kicking him out, we managed to become 'friendly'.
Besides, this wasn't the only problem we inherited from the previous manager...
Saturday, 8 October 2011
Miss 20%
We had just taken over the building. Usually, it takes a while for a building to fall into line. We operate fully on the 80/20 rule. For those that don't know, the 80/20 rule means that 20% of our tenants cause 80% of the problems. So, at a new building, the sooner people nominate themselves to the 20% group, the better.
No one in our experience had nominated themselves faster to the 20% club than this crazy bitch.
We get a call that there is a fight at the building. The crazy bitch forgot her keys, and starts knocking on windows and buzzing everyone in the building to get in. Another tenant comes out and tries to find out whats happening, and she busts past him and runs to her apartment. More chaos ensues until she finally gets back in and the other guy goes home.
A little bit about our little sweetie. My mother would describe her as "gomeless" She's british, I work with it. Basically, she looks at you like she's struggling to understand your words. She's younger, but works at a shit job and contributes nothing to the world except being a prime customer for the local drug dealer.
And she just made a blip on the radar.
We check the mail slot in the office one night, and the tenant that unfortunately let her in, has given us a letter. It actually contains the letter that he witnessed her sliding under his door from his car.
It contains racial slurs, tells him to fuck off, go back to x country you stinky fuck. Your typical hate speech, sprawled in angry big block letters.
You'd almost ask, "why u mad bro?"
It becomes time to introduce ourselves to them, through a monthly inspection!
And that's when we hear from the charming boyfriend. He calls us, and immediatly starts yelling about why we are inspecting their apartment. Dinosaur(my partner, for those just joining us) stays incredibly calm on the phone. They were told before by the owner that they need to clean their unit and we're following up.
He starts yelling and swearing, and hangs up, then calls back to get angry again.
"he says, "I'm going to deny entry. You can't come in."
And Dinosaur, in classic fashion, very simply says, "you can be there, or you can not be there. You can block entry to the door all you want, but our situation will be that much worse at the end of the day. I'm not going away."
So we decide to both be there, for a little back up.
Their apartment is a disaster. Little miss is standing in the middle of chaos and clutter looking like she belongs.
Then we discuss the cat. Its a no pet building, so by definition, the cat in this mess shouldn't exist. She says that they paid a pet deposit, so the cat shouldn't be an issue. We ask her to look for the receipt, and we'll check at the office.
Oh, someone is also squatting in the dining room.
Then we run into them in the hall, all 3. The friend is staying "for a few weeks", and we ask about the receipt for the pet deposit, and they tell us, "we got rid of the cat". OK. Tough love. The boyfriend, the entire time has the look of hate on his face. He does his best work on the phone. In person, he's short, and doesn't have the balls to get into a confrontation.
Out of the blue, Dino gets a call from her, and she starts going off about the pet deposit. We've stolen it, and she's going to get a lawyer and sue us. Dino starts laughing and 'click', hung up on again.
Ok.
I thought they said they got rid of the cat?
Everything always comes to a head at the beginning of the next month. Writing a check to people you hate always motivates change, I guess.
They moved. The squatting friend is going to take the apartment. This is the solution we get on the phone. Dino says, "well I'm not accepting rent from someone I don't know, so I'll evict him for squatting." And he returns with "well, then I live there." To which Dino says, "well then I evict you for breach of peace" And he actually says, "but I moved out"
So this kid is trying to out smart us? WHAT?
Here's what his mind produces for logic:
The cat's an issue. I don't have the cat. But you stole my pet deposit, which would entitle me to have the cat
I'm an issue. Well I don't live there. My friend lives there. We don't want him either. Then I do live there.
Finally, as bizarre as this story started, it ended. They all abandoned the apartment.
No more contact.
We go inside and discover....
They were growing weed in the bedroom! Not huge amounts, but enough that it would be a pain in the ass to have to move it all for an inspection. Enough that I'm sure it made him angry to do so. Angry enough to lash out.
And finally, they decided that it was easier to move to some other place and start all over again.
And so, this just reconfirmed for us; if you give someone enough rope, they'll hang themselves.
No one in our experience had nominated themselves faster to the 20% club than this crazy bitch.
We get a call that there is a fight at the building. The crazy bitch forgot her keys, and starts knocking on windows and buzzing everyone in the building to get in. Another tenant comes out and tries to find out whats happening, and she busts past him and runs to her apartment. More chaos ensues until she finally gets back in and the other guy goes home.
A little bit about our little sweetie. My mother would describe her as "gomeless" She's british, I work with it. Basically, she looks at you like she's struggling to understand your words. She's younger, but works at a shit job and contributes nothing to the world except being a prime customer for the local drug dealer.
And she just made a blip on the radar.
We check the mail slot in the office one night, and the tenant that unfortunately let her in, has given us a letter. It actually contains the letter that he witnessed her sliding under his door from his car.
It contains racial slurs, tells him to fuck off, go back to x country you stinky fuck. Your typical hate speech, sprawled in angry big block letters.
You'd almost ask, "why u mad bro?"
It becomes time to introduce ourselves to them, through a monthly inspection!
And that's when we hear from the charming boyfriend. He calls us, and immediatly starts yelling about why we are inspecting their apartment. Dinosaur(my partner, for those just joining us) stays incredibly calm on the phone. They were told before by the owner that they need to clean their unit and we're following up.
He starts yelling and swearing, and hangs up, then calls back to get angry again.
"he says, "I'm going to deny entry. You can't come in."
And Dinosaur, in classic fashion, very simply says, "you can be there, or you can not be there. You can block entry to the door all you want, but our situation will be that much worse at the end of the day. I'm not going away."
So we decide to both be there, for a little back up.
Their apartment is a disaster. Little miss is standing in the middle of chaos and clutter looking like she belongs.
Then we discuss the cat. Its a no pet building, so by definition, the cat in this mess shouldn't exist. She says that they paid a pet deposit, so the cat shouldn't be an issue. We ask her to look for the receipt, and we'll check at the office.
Oh, someone is also squatting in the dining room.
Then we run into them in the hall, all 3. The friend is staying "for a few weeks", and we ask about the receipt for the pet deposit, and they tell us, "we got rid of the cat". OK. Tough love. The boyfriend, the entire time has the look of hate on his face. He does his best work on the phone. In person, he's short, and doesn't have the balls to get into a confrontation.
Out of the blue, Dino gets a call from her, and she starts going off about the pet deposit. We've stolen it, and she's going to get a lawyer and sue us. Dino starts laughing and 'click', hung up on again.
Ok.
I thought they said they got rid of the cat?
Everything always comes to a head at the beginning of the next month. Writing a check to people you hate always motivates change, I guess.
They moved. The squatting friend is going to take the apartment. This is the solution we get on the phone. Dino says, "well I'm not accepting rent from someone I don't know, so I'll evict him for squatting." And he returns with "well, then I live there." To which Dino says, "well then I evict you for breach of peace" And he actually says, "but I moved out"
So this kid is trying to out smart us? WHAT?
Here's what his mind produces for logic:
The cat's an issue. I don't have the cat. But you stole my pet deposit, which would entitle me to have the cat
I'm an issue. Well I don't live there. My friend lives there. We don't want him either. Then I do live there.
Finally, as bizarre as this story started, it ended. They all abandoned the apartment.
No more contact.
We go inside and discover....
They were growing weed in the bedroom! Not huge amounts, but enough that it would be a pain in the ass to have to move it all for an inspection. Enough that I'm sure it made him angry to do so. Angry enough to lash out.
And finally, they decided that it was easier to move to some other place and start all over again.
And so, this just reconfirmed for us; if you give someone enough rope, they'll hang themselves.
Squeegee
These two are classed in "so not what we were expecting".
Dino showed them, and I signed the lease with them. As I was signing the lease, I had a bad feeling that I didn't like them. Dino had agreed to allow them to paint the unit, as I didn't have time to do so. He kept asking questions about being reimbersed for paint and the entire affair left me with an uneasy feeling-like I was getting scammed.
A little time goes by, and they fall off the radar.
Then we walk past their unit, and pretty much slow down like watching a car accident, we witness the abomination. When Dino was showing them, she was sure to emphasize "neutral, rentable colors".
What we got was greek restaurant on crack. Bright blue on the walls and ceiling, dark blue trim and fuscia accent walls. All painted poorly.
So we start trying to contact them, but they hadn't actually moved in yet. And we decide that we are certainly not paying for this shit. So we know there is a battle coming.
The battle came at the end of the month. Their first month. Their only month. They summoned us for a meeting. They open the door and hand us a paper(ransom list?) of issues, receipts totaling $400 for paint and supplies and tell us they are moving. Today. They also tell us they have bed bugs-which is apparently my fault.
The conversation takes a slightly negative tone as we just say no. You aren't walking out on a minutes notice and with a check for $400 for bright blue and pink paint.
He starts to annoy the shit out of me. He starts telling us exactly what our rights are in the RTA(a real annoyance) and putting words in our mouth. I told him when signing the lease, that because he mentioned that he is sensitive to environmental allergies, that if he needed to leave the building, that we would look at ending his lease for him. How nice am I?
The list on his manifesto of environmental allergens was:
-The lawn guys use gasoline powered lawn mowers, and the exhaust gives him headaches
-The light in the kitchen is flourescent and causes headaches
-dining room light is hanging precariously, falling apart
-cleaners used in hallway causes headaches and smells like bleach(it was Pine sol)
-unable to open dining room window because its next to the laundry vent and causes what? Headaches. I didn't move that, so it was totally there when they looked at the place
The entire manifesto is written to mitigate issues that I'm going to have, telling me I should have no problems renting the apartment in its current colors.
As we are talking, we are getting nowhere. Anything we say is immediately cut off by him, and "but it needs to be this way".
We go away for awhile and try to decide what to do. We are leaning heavily towards just taking him to arbitration, but in that case, he keeps the keys and continues to have access to our building. At this point, we have no idea what he's capable of.
So we try for a negotiated settlement.
I can usually "break" people. I find if you can get someone to at least admit that your position is reasonable, not right or wrong, but at least reasonable, then its not a huge jump from reasonable to being in the best case for us all.
I have no luck. He stares at you with a blank expression. No. The girl on the other hand, who we not so nicely nicknamed squeegee, is a bit more reasonable, and Dino goes for her in a woman-to-woman conversation, relaying between us, the "unreasonable" men. I play it up, being unreasonable and loud, letting Dino be "good cop".
Hot damn! I love our job.
So, they come to a conclusion. We gave up a little and they gave up a lot.
She continued to say things like, "well that's the law" We'll give you the keys back at midnight, because "that's the law". It drives me nuts. In fact, I was in back breaking down a box as she comes to talk to me and I get so mad I start destroying the box and tear a strip off of her.
So. We still had bed bugs right?
We have our pest guy come and take a look, and he immediately calls bullshit. They have one in a jar. We tell them that they will come back with a dog at 11 the next day(the day they are moving) and check further.
We have a terrible nights sleep. The next day, Dino knocks on their door at 10:30am and she opens the door and yells, "its not 11am yet!" and Dino and her end up yelling so loudly I hear her 2 floors up.
He has so nicely taken the time to already write us up in the bed bug registry. One in a jar and apparently I'm infested.
They have all their items bagged up on the balcony, I'm assuming to contain the infestation.
We have an awkward final meeting when they return the keys. We had to have a long drawn out letter stating the circumstances of how and why they were leaving, which for their benefit had to be signed by all parties. He then made us write in how many keys were returned.
No bye. No, "I'm sorry this didn't work."
As they go to just turn and leave, I put a huge smile on my face and say, "thanks guys. Have a nice life!"
They pack their meager shit in the cab like they are evacuating Beirut and tear off.
The dog inspects the unit. Not a single bed bug. Nothing. No droppings, no eggs, nothing.
I think they did have bed bugs, and I think they brought them in. They then bagged up their shit and took them right back out.
It was either that, or they jarred one for show and tell.
We learned a lot from them. Once again, that first instinct is the best instinct.
Dino showed them, and I signed the lease with them. As I was signing the lease, I had a bad feeling that I didn't like them. Dino had agreed to allow them to paint the unit, as I didn't have time to do so. He kept asking questions about being reimbersed for paint and the entire affair left me with an uneasy feeling-like I was getting scammed.
A little time goes by, and they fall off the radar.
Then we walk past their unit, and pretty much slow down like watching a car accident, we witness the abomination. When Dino was showing them, she was sure to emphasize "neutral, rentable colors".
What we got was greek restaurant on crack. Bright blue on the walls and ceiling, dark blue trim and fuscia accent walls. All painted poorly.
So we start trying to contact them, but they hadn't actually moved in yet. And we decide that we are certainly not paying for this shit. So we know there is a battle coming.
The battle came at the end of the month. Their first month. Their only month. They summoned us for a meeting. They open the door and hand us a paper(ransom list?) of issues, receipts totaling $400 for paint and supplies and tell us they are moving. Today. They also tell us they have bed bugs-which is apparently my fault.
The conversation takes a slightly negative tone as we just say no. You aren't walking out on a minutes notice and with a check for $400 for bright blue and pink paint.
He starts to annoy the shit out of me. He starts telling us exactly what our rights are in the RTA(a real annoyance) and putting words in our mouth. I told him when signing the lease, that because he mentioned that he is sensitive to environmental allergies, that if he needed to leave the building, that we would look at ending his lease for him. How nice am I?
The list on his manifesto of environmental allergens was:
-The lawn guys use gasoline powered lawn mowers, and the exhaust gives him headaches
-The light in the kitchen is flourescent and causes headaches
-dining room light is hanging precariously, falling apart
-cleaners used in hallway causes headaches and smells like bleach(it was Pine sol)
-unable to open dining room window because its next to the laundry vent and causes what? Headaches. I didn't move that, so it was totally there when they looked at the place
The entire manifesto is written to mitigate issues that I'm going to have, telling me I should have no problems renting the apartment in its current colors.
As we are talking, we are getting nowhere. Anything we say is immediately cut off by him, and "but it needs to be this way".
We go away for awhile and try to decide what to do. We are leaning heavily towards just taking him to arbitration, but in that case, he keeps the keys and continues to have access to our building. At this point, we have no idea what he's capable of.
So we try for a negotiated settlement.
I can usually "break" people. I find if you can get someone to at least admit that your position is reasonable, not right or wrong, but at least reasonable, then its not a huge jump from reasonable to being in the best case for us all.
I have no luck. He stares at you with a blank expression. No. The girl on the other hand, who we not so nicely nicknamed squeegee, is a bit more reasonable, and Dino goes for her in a woman-to-woman conversation, relaying between us, the "unreasonable" men. I play it up, being unreasonable and loud, letting Dino be "good cop".
Hot damn! I love our job.
So, they come to a conclusion. We gave up a little and they gave up a lot.
She continued to say things like, "well that's the law" We'll give you the keys back at midnight, because "that's the law". It drives me nuts. In fact, I was in back breaking down a box as she comes to talk to me and I get so mad I start destroying the box and tear a strip off of her.
So. We still had bed bugs right?
We have our pest guy come and take a look, and he immediately calls bullshit. They have one in a jar. We tell them that they will come back with a dog at 11 the next day(the day they are moving) and check further.
We have a terrible nights sleep. The next day, Dino knocks on their door at 10:30am and she opens the door and yells, "its not 11am yet!" and Dino and her end up yelling so loudly I hear her 2 floors up.
He has so nicely taken the time to already write us up in the bed bug registry. One in a jar and apparently I'm infested.
They have all their items bagged up on the balcony, I'm assuming to contain the infestation.
We have an awkward final meeting when they return the keys. We had to have a long drawn out letter stating the circumstances of how and why they were leaving, which for their benefit had to be signed by all parties. He then made us write in how many keys were returned.
No bye. No, "I'm sorry this didn't work."
As they go to just turn and leave, I put a huge smile on my face and say, "thanks guys. Have a nice life!"
They pack their meager shit in the cab like they are evacuating Beirut and tear off.
The dog inspects the unit. Not a single bed bug. Nothing. No droppings, no eggs, nothing.
I think they did have bed bugs, and I think they brought them in. They then bagged up their shit and took them right back out.
It was either that, or they jarred one for show and tell.
We learned a lot from them. Once again, that first instinct is the best instinct.
Toothy
This chick was fun from our first day on the job. She was horribly late with rent, so we gave her a reminder letter. Still nothing. The next day we gave her a 10 day pay to stay notice-plastered to her front door, right next to our apartment.
Still nothing. On about the 5th or so, basically right before the eviction takes affect, she knocks on my door, with a wad of cash in hand.
So we're talking, and she starts selling me a story that all the previous managers have been cool with the fact that she's sometimes late with rent. I'm just nodding my head listening.
Then its my turn.
I should mention that her apartment constantly smells like weed, the hall outside my door also smells like weed and I hate the smell of weed. Her husband also looks like he's on america's most wanted.
So basically, I ain't gonna like this woman.
So I tell her that I don't care what other managers have done, I want money in on the first. Basically, I hate fucking around, and we decided before we ever started this, that we aren't fucking around.
So she says, "well, I'm pretty close with the owner's father, and maybe I'll talk to him"
Also known as, "I'm just gonna fly over your pretty little head"
My response, verbatim was classic, "feel free to talk to him. I will warn you that I don't operate in a vacuum, and everyone is fully aware of the situation. I'm also going to warn you that while you may be close with him, I'm the one making his benz payments these days, so I'm a little closer to him than you are"
And that is how we came to have rent in on time for the first time in 6 years.
Still nothing. On about the 5th or so, basically right before the eviction takes affect, she knocks on my door, with a wad of cash in hand.
So we're talking, and she starts selling me a story that all the previous managers have been cool with the fact that she's sometimes late with rent. I'm just nodding my head listening.
Then its my turn.
I should mention that her apartment constantly smells like weed, the hall outside my door also smells like weed and I hate the smell of weed. Her husband also looks like he's on america's most wanted.
So basically, I ain't gonna like this woman.
So I tell her that I don't care what other managers have done, I want money in on the first. Basically, I hate fucking around, and we decided before we ever started this, that we aren't fucking around.
So she says, "well, I'm pretty close with the owner's father, and maybe I'll talk to him"
Also known as, "I'm just gonna fly over your pretty little head"
My response, verbatim was classic, "feel free to talk to him. I will warn you that I don't operate in a vacuum, and everyone is fully aware of the situation. I'm also going to warn you that while you may be close with him, I'm the one making his benz payments these days, so I'm a little closer to him than you are"
And that is how we came to have rent in on time for the first time in 6 years.
Patricia the Strippa
This one wasn't my building, but a rental condo a building owner client of mine asked me to repaint.
It was a little weird to begin with. First, it was that damn Infinity tower in Surrey which in my mind is cursed.
She also insisted on being home. She had to go out of her way to take time off so it had to be as fast as possible.
Her broken laptop and tiny ass tv didn't look like a great grab to me, but whatever.
She was very surrey. She was a llittle bigger, but dressed a little smaller. You know that classy "things aren't sitting where they are supposed to be" look?
She was friendly to us and kept to herself.
We were working, and she had left briefly, and I said to my worker, "dude, I don't know why, but I have this feeling that she's selling it" We had a good laugh and went on with our work.
I had no idea what gave me that impression. I asked later what she did and her answer was "just a secretary. Nothing too exciting."
I guess it was a vibe, but nothing concrete. On the outside, she looked like a slutty surrey chick.
So a few weeks later, I'm talking to my client and he brings up that apartment, also says its cursed, and says that her and her room mate have turned it into a brothel. Building security had notified up the chain that a lot of guys were showing up and leaving an hour later. She apparently couldn't really deny it.
And that is how I learned to trust my first instinct.
It was a little weird to begin with. First, it was that damn Infinity tower in Surrey which in my mind is cursed.
She also insisted on being home. She had to go out of her way to take time off so it had to be as fast as possible.
Her broken laptop and tiny ass tv didn't look like a great grab to me, but whatever.
She was very surrey. She was a llittle bigger, but dressed a little smaller. You know that classy "things aren't sitting where they are supposed to be" look?
She was friendly to us and kept to herself.
We were working, and she had left briefly, and I said to my worker, "dude, I don't know why, but I have this feeling that she's selling it" We had a good laugh and went on with our work.
I had no idea what gave me that impression. I asked later what she did and her answer was "just a secretary. Nothing too exciting."
I guess it was a vibe, but nothing concrete. On the outside, she looked like a slutty surrey chick.
So a few weeks later, I'm talking to my client and he brings up that apartment, also says its cursed, and says that her and her room mate have turned it into a brothel. Building security had notified up the chain that a lot of guys were showing up and leaving an hour later. She apparently couldn't really deny it.
And that is how I learned to trust my first instinct.
Cokie the Bear
I have to start with this guy, because he was as crazy as it gets. When we took over the building, we were told about his issue. He was living with his mother, who was a long-term tenant. Everyone was aware of his issue, but had done nothing to solve it. He was a heroin addict. He had a gaunt look, and a thin frame and had been using heroin for a long-time.
Tenants had made phone calls and written letters about hookers sleeping in the stairwells and the door being pinned open.
One day he asked dinosaur if we had any issues with renting to someone on welfare. She looked at him straight in the face and said, "we don't have an issue with that in this building, but I do have an issue renting to drug addicts." Boom! Let's put our cards on the table early.
She continued by telling him that she was fully briefed on his story, and with some other vacancies to fill, hadn't made it an issue...yet. But that time was coming.
A few months go by, and we receive word that something tragic had happened. His mother passed away.
Although sad, its something like this that motivates change. We were always left with the option that to get rid of him, we really only could get rid of her, a well, dying old lady on oxygen.
So we checked the papers for her obituary looking for other family members to assist as allies. And we found a name. It was a name I recognized.
His brother was a high profile politician.
I really couldn't believe it when I read more on his bio. It was his half-brother and their stories couldn't be more different. Full scholarship to UBC law. Worked at a high profile law firmand then started a successful political career.
He sad that he'd take care of everything. He'd pay a month's rent, and then cokie would be on his own. He'd pay to clean and leave the unit in good condition and all to protect the name of his beloved mother.
Two months later, that had changed somewhat to "I've done my part, you are on your own."
He squatted in that apartment for 3 more months until we finally got him out. We found a garbage can full of needles, and arterial spray all though the shower, and some on the closet doors.
The end result is I can't believe that a politician lied to us.
Tenants had made phone calls and written letters about hookers sleeping in the stairwells and the door being pinned open.
One day he asked dinosaur if we had any issues with renting to someone on welfare. She looked at him straight in the face and said, "we don't have an issue with that in this building, but I do have an issue renting to drug addicts." Boom! Let's put our cards on the table early.
She continued by telling him that she was fully briefed on his story, and with some other vacancies to fill, hadn't made it an issue...yet. But that time was coming.
A few months go by, and we receive word that something tragic had happened. His mother passed away.
Although sad, its something like this that motivates change. We were always left with the option that to get rid of him, we really only could get rid of her, a well, dying old lady on oxygen.
So we checked the papers for her obituary looking for other family members to assist as allies. And we found a name. It was a name I recognized.
His brother was a high profile politician.
I really couldn't believe it when I read more on his bio. It was his half-brother and their stories couldn't be more different. Full scholarship to UBC law. Worked at a high profile law firmand then started a successful political career.
He sad that he'd take care of everything. He'd pay a month's rent, and then cokie would be on his own. He'd pay to clean and leave the unit in good condition and all to protect the name of his beloved mother.
Two months later, that had changed somewhat to "I've done my part, you are on your own."
He squatted in that apartment for 3 more months until we finally got him out. We found a garbage can full of needles, and arterial spray all though the shower, and some on the closet doors.
The end result is I can't believe that a politician lied to us.
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Darling Vicki
Were there signs? Yes.
1) constant flow of people. Normal people do not have that many friends showing up all the time
2) they were constantly fighting
3) music complaints
4) they broke up a few times and every time it was "we need to move" "we made up, can we stay"
So this was the way it went for the few months leading up to the party.
Annoying, but not sound the alarm annoying.
At 2am, we get a call saying the front door was broken, and there was someone loose in the building. I swept the building down to find what the issue was, while J went to the front door to deal with the situation there. It didn't take me long to find the commotion in the hall outside Darling Vicki's unit.
I walk into the section and see 10 people hauling a half nude chick out into the hall. She wasn't really half nude by choice, but when someone is being resistant to the move on a carpeted floor, their pants have a tendency not to go along for the ride. I yell out that anyone that is not a tenant of the building has about 5 seconds to vacate. Do not look at me, I'm telling you to leave. Immediately.
That clears the hall. Check.
I tell Darling Vicki and partner to leave the drunk chick alone, as the police are on the way.
That puts the fear of god on their faces. Check.
I went to survey the damage to the lobby. It looks a little like downtown Jerusalem. Glass everywhere, and people standing there with a dumbfounded look on their faces.
The police come and deal with our little drunk friend. Seems she was a rap sheet as long as my arm. It also seems our local police are toothless. No charges. No handcuffs. She gets delivered to the drunk tank and home.
We are cleaning up the glass when Vicki's boyfriend comes down to talk. Hat in hand, and head held low, he knows that he went way past the line.
I get in his face and lose it. I can't even remember what was said. I do remember the theme of the conversation was "it's been quite a ride". Like a good little tenant, he stood there and took it. I stopped mid sentence and stormed out. That's when J took over.
No yelling.
No swearing.
She goes up to him and simply says, "I am going to accept your letter to end tenancy tomorrow morning. You are going to date it for the 1st. You are then going to spend the next 2 weeks avoiding all contact with us."
We didn't get to bed until 4am, after the glass company came and repaired the window, as we sat in a freezing lobby as he came, broke the glass he brought, went back to the shop and came back again.
And that's when we learned that references lie.
Darlin' Vicki-A parody of Prince
I knew a girl named Vikki
I guess you could say she was sleazy
I met her in my apartments lobby
signing a minimum one years lease
and she said anytime she pees it hurts
and I knew
another tenant we should find
one night she had a party
and I just couldn't believe
my eyes
one of her friends had smashed a window
and was nude in the hall tellin lies
the cops told her the rights
took her out in the night
and lil Vikki well,
she was now in a bind
The night turned really long
and we rolled in bed til 4 in vain
I can't tell you what the bill was
but my bank will never be the same
Her parties will kick your behind
she'll show you no mercy
I guess you could say she was sleazy
I met her in my apartments lobby
signing a minimum one years lease
and she said anytime she pees it hurts
and I knew
another tenant we should find
one night she had a party
and I just couldn't believe
my eyes
one of her friends had smashed a window
and was nude in the hall tellin lies
the cops told her the rights
took her out in the night
and lil Vikki well,
she was now in a bind
The night turned really long
and we rolled in bed til 4 in vain
I can't tell you what the bill was
but my bank will never be the same
Her parties will kick your behind
she'll show you no mercy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)