As I’ve pointed out before, my job is a walking, talking mental disorder. Of any job I’ve ever had, property management has provided more WTF fodder than I could ever have prepared for. At the insistence of more people than I can count at this point, I’ve decided to start posting regular snippets of my daily interactions with tenants, parents, vendors, and the like. And at the rate these people are getting dumber, I can pretty much guarantee at least 3 follow up posts.
All signs point to you being an idiot.
I went out to install a new leasing sign. Two of my residents walked out of the building as I was finishing up.
Resident, gesturing to the sign and speaking to his roommate in a hushed voice: That would fit perfect in my bedroom window to block out light when I’m sleeping.
Me: Or, hear me out here, you could go buy blackout curtains like a proper grown up and stop pretending that I can’t hear you and don’t know exactly which apartment you live in.
Me: Well, your parking agreement is a legal and binding contract. If you won’t be needing the space anymore, you’ll have to sublease. Besides, why didn’t you call the office so we could have the vehicle removed?
Tenant: I don’t know the office number.
Me: You’re talking to the office number.
Tenant: I’ll be canceling my check. *click*
Me: Alrighty! See you in court!
Me: Did you ever imagine that after enduring law school and the bar exam, you’d be engaged in an argument over a $35 bill with no leg to stand on?”
It’s Electric! (Boogie-woogie-woogie!)
A parent called with a complaint shortly before the end of winter break.
Parent: We pay for may daughter to park in one of your lots and we just had to pay two thousand dollars because rodents ate the electrical in her car. If you could send someone out to take care of the rodents, I don’t want to have to pay this again.
Me: We do have a pest control company that makes routine service calls to the properties on the first Monday of every month, but it’s for the dwelling only. I have no control over the lots since they’re out in the open.
Parent: Well this just isn’t acceptable to me. I mean, she hardly ever drives the car, but when she does, it should work. Can’t you spread some kind of repellent to keep them away from the parking lot?
Me: I can investigate those options, but the current weather is not going to make them very effective. I’d recommend that you have your daughter start her car once a day or so, since they don’t tend to view occupied vehicles as a hospitable nest.
Parent: Well that’s just silly. What a waste of gas! I’m not condoning that you exterminate them since they’re only doing what comes naturally, but can’t you trap them and release them somewhere else?
Me: That’s something that the Department of Natural Resources would have to approve, but that would be a very good topic to bring up with them.
Parent: Well, yes I think it is. You should do that. *click*
Me, to myself: Yeah, I’m dialing right now. *yelling across the office to coworker* YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS ONE!
Oh yes. Only doing what’s natural. Sure, catch and release is a great plan. Because, you know, squirrels and mice can’t walk over from the next block or anything.
It’s important to be prepared!
Back when I was stationed at the front desk for a University apartment building, I watched a resident walking through the lobby with a dozen frozen pizzas and a box of Franzia as she was saying to someone on the phone, “Yeah, I’m just stocking up in preparation for this storm!”
Hunka-hunka Burning Man
On one particularly miserable snowy day, a man walked into my office in a coffee stained pair of overalls, splotchy red face, and burn mark in the crotch of his pants. He looked positively downtrodden.
Me: Hi there!
Him: Uh, hi. I’m your snow removal guy. This is going to be a really dumb question, but I skid on some ice on the way over here, dumped my coffee all over myself and dropped my cigarette in my lap. I also, uhm, slipped on some ice and split my pants. I don’t suppose you have a needle and thread or some safety pins?
I invited him to refill his coffee while I went and retrieved my portable sewing kit and sent him on his way with my best wishes. Then I laughed until my side hurt.
And people wonder why I always have a perpetual headache and a need to drink, yet I still claim that I’m not an alcoholic.
Be honest, people – Do I possess some kind of karmic magnet that just attracts all the crazy shit, or is it really just a side effect of my job/this city?