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Sunday, January 4, 2015

Peeping Tom

Somedays I feel as though I live in a fishbowl, tenants often stop in the apartment or look for me while I am working outside. A live-in manager is really on-call 24/7. It comes with the territory, however, MOST tenants do respect privacy, some however, have felt it is their right to toss all manners and respect to the winds.

Lost Keys

Earlier one day a tenant and I were texting back and forth; they had their lost keys, were locked out and would be coming home late. No problem I replied, just CALL if after 10 pm: A reasonable request. Haha.

11:30 PM

In my front window, I have a small fan, and with the blinds dropped down and the curtains pulled around the sides, I was never concerned about privacy. How naïve!

Since I had not heard from said tenant, I assumed that their keys had been found and would not need my copy. I was sitting in my bathrobe at the kitchen table watching the end of the evening news, and ready for bed. Until I heard a voice shouting through the window fan, not calling MY name but for my brother-in-law!

I jumped, and as I yanked the door open, the first words out of my mouth were not, “How may I help you?”

This tenant did not knock on the door; they were peering through the window fan and hollering for my brother-in-law!

This tenant looked up at me then bent down again and continued hollering through the window!

Cannot make this up

I demanded to know why they didn’t knock first!

I demanded to know why are they calling for my brother-in-law when they saw me at the table?

In addition, WHY are you still demanding to speak to him?

And when the @$#@#$ hell do you think it is EVER okay to look through my windows? You walked by the door and did not knock!

Tenant: “I need to speak to your brother-in-law.”

Me: “Excuse you! You expect me to wake him from a sound sleep, drag a handicapped man out of bed just for you?”

Tenant, again: “I need to speak to your brother-in-law.”

This went around a few times, along with the excuses that it was, “NOT my fault! I have family problems!”

Yeah, and I have tenant problems.

Me: “Do you still need your apartment key?”

When they nodded yes, and as I stepped back to get them, I turned around and very strongly warned: “You are NOT to come in here, am I clear?”

I gave the key with the conditions NOT to return it until morning.

The Lack of Conclusion:

Said tenant has never apologized, or even considered that it was wrong to peek through my window, nor explained just why it was so urgent to drag a handicapped man out of bed. They have stated that they are scared of me.

I’m confused: me in pajamas half asleep, late at night and someone peeking through my window then hollering for someone else. I dunno know, methinks they got off easy.

Friday, January 2, 2015

Not a very auspicious start to the New Year.

Beautiful day, brisk, sunny.

Went to the bank, joked with person inside while waiting for ATM.

Met same person out in lot, again.

We proved the theory that TWO cars CANNOT occupy the same spot at the same time. Translation: we backed up into each other.

Day two of New Year. (Hopefully ALL the bad luck is now used up for the year?)

So sad, this car is treated like a pickup truck at Home Depot, loaded with ladders, windows, doors, trim, in short, the wholeshebang! Heck, the staff brags about much my car can hold.

Never a knick in the Contractors parking lot, and there are some well-worn trucks out there.

A simple trip to the bank has cost me some $$$.

So not fair.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

She Flipped Me the Bird!

‘Twas a very busy day: contractors, laundry and the roofers showed up a day early.

The roofers came with a large flatbed truck, with a boom to load shingles up on the rooftop. This meant we had to scramble to have the tenants move all cars out of the lot, and luckily, most were at work, but just the same, who wants to be hustled to jockey cars around on your day off?

While Al and I were standing on the deck watching the foreman wave his truck in, women in a SUV drove up, asked to be let into the parking lot as, “They were only dropping off.” And the foreman obliged.

I knew the SUV; they are friends of a difficult tenant. The request to pull in was not an issue, however, the passenger glaring at me as they drove in, then twisting her head around to continue staring at me was bizarre.

As they backed out, the passenger was still staring as she passed me, her hands laying across her belly, I saw her repeatedly flick her middle finger. There was no mistaking the grin on her face and her hand gesture. I leaned over to Al and laughed, “She flipped me the bird!”

The driver stopped short, her passenger rolled down her window and began shouting, “I was talking to my friend! Aren’t I allowed to talk to my friend? You got a problem with that?!”


SUV pulled forward, yelling.

SUV backed up, more yelling.

Me: “You weren’t talking, you flipped me the bird!”

Obviously she wanted to pick a fight: with her window rolled up, she could not possibly have heard what I said to Al. Since her lips did not move until she began yelling and cursing at me, I must assume that she and her friend communicate telepathically, unless of course, repeatedly flicking a middle finger was a new kind of sign language for the driver to read.

As she threw her car back into reverse, I replied, “Birds of a feather flock together.” Translation, you are friends with the most complained about tenant; your behavior is no surprise.

While backing out of the lot, the driver almost plowed into a car driving down the street.

Shucks, I would have enjoyed being an eyewitness for the police and insurance adjusters.

A while later, a tenant who had witnessed the great bird flip off, asked if I ‘was okay?’ and ‘who were those people?’ I mentioned the name. I heard the eye roll through the phone.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

There’s a Teenager Back in the House!

My brother-in-laws’s great-grandson has come for a visit, and Wow! the similarities to my own son when he was a teenager makes me laugh, and groan.

The two young men have many things in common: both real smart, interests all over the globe and questions I don’t get (back then or now), my son was glued to the sports channel and the telephone, this one to the Internet and iPhone.

My son has completed 10 years of military service, this one is going in: Smart choices for both, but scary with the world in continuous turmoil.

Now to be clear, I do enjoy his company…but he is 18. The only cure for 18 is 25.

And the following is just a humorous list of what a teenager brings to any house.

They take up a lot of room!

Not kidding: shoes, jackets, towels, power cords (and the attached electronics) are strewn from the front door, all the way through to the bathroom.

We have a sofa and a big lounge chair: He extends the lounge chair all the way, foot rest extended, then lays on the sofa and uses the chair as his foot rest.


What is there to eat? My son could eat a box of Coco Puffs a day, this one devours bread.

I rarely buy snacks such as potato chips, cakes and only a few cookies. Snacks are a piece of fruit or crackers with cheese, or the best…peanut butter and jelly. He will adapt.


I am not a restaurant. If I give a choice of meals, rest assured, what was not chosen for tonight’s meal will be served tomorrow night.

Meals will not be held until one is finished playing a video game.


Ok, teens stay up all night, sleep all day, I remember that. However, it is amazing that the sound of the mouse clicking on a video game can actually wake me up. In the morning, I do kick him off the sofa and send him to his Grandpa’s bedroom. He needs to sleep and I need my living room.


Placing his laptop on top of my laptop on my desk is NOT multi-purposing! I found one of those tables with wheels that slide under a chair and set up his own station.

He borrowed my mouse. I found another just for him.

He appropriated my mouse pad: Since I couldn’t find a spare pad in my computer junk drawer, he was out of luck, I took mine back.

Power cords are a life-saver with multiple electronics added to the home.

But the Bonus: Chores

Yaaay, he takes out the trash! When my son moved out a dozen years ago, I had to do this myself. I HATE carrying out the trash!

He does carry the laundry basket down a flight of stairs to the laundry room, and back up again. (In all fairness, laundry has nearly doubled this week.)

He helped me clean out the dreaded Machine Room. It is the furnace and workroom, full of tools, spare parts, A/Cs, shovels, rakes, heck, the shebang is down there. Frankly, I have been putting off cleaning this room, but with a young man who can haul out old windows, scrap wood and general junk, the room was put back together in a very short while.

He hauled all the planters to the back of the building.

The bags of Ice Melt were dragged out, poured into buckets and tubs, and now we are ready for winter ice and snow.

He does say, ‘Thank you.’ He also gives hugs.

The Great Cat Litter Trail:
The Grinch Struck Again

At the base of the main, front stairwell was a large pool of cat litter;

  • It traveled down the last two stairs;
  • It continued down the sidewalk
  • The culprit paused in front of the rock garden, and left a plant food packet (the kind the florist gives to put in a vase);
  • The trail of cat litter continued down the sidewalk;
  • It meandered over the parking lot, to the side of the dumpster enclosure;
  • It ended inside the enclosure.
One has to wonder?

Who in the middle of the night, would waste a 1–2 bags of cat litter to painstakingly pour out a trail 3¬4” wide and 50’ long?

Since I had spent 2 days working in the rock garden, under the feature wall, the florist plant food packet left there, perhaps was a message for me?

Was this the work of the Infamous Garden Grinch who has been ripping plants out, and who has been seen planting cigarette butts in the gardens and flowerpots?

Later, several of us were standing at the end of the driveway, chatting and laughing, someone from the back of the parking lot, up on the third floor demanded that we stop talking about her.

Really, as your name was NOT mentioned and you were more than 50’ away, could not possible hear the conversation, one has to wonder about your guilt.

My reply: “I don’t take orders from you,” and we all walked away, still laughing.

Guilt confirmed. Someone needs to get over themselves, get a job, get a grip, and get a life.