My New Home

Isn’t fully complete yet, but it already feels more like home then the dump I was living in before.  I had to wash every single piece of clothing I own because the stuff I had in storage smelt like soggy old people that had rolled in moth balls (my old landlords perfume, apparently).

Moving this time was a trip and a half.  I had plenty of time to pack and get things out – and I really think that I did a better job then my other moves.  I mean, it’s not saying much, considering just how poorly prepared I was the previous few times, but I’ve been in this place for over three years (which is LONG for me, before that my record was 18 months in queens, and before that…3 months.  Whatever, I like to bop around).  I have A LOT of stuff.  And its weird, because it doesn’t seem like a lot – but when you’re boxing it up, and transporting it…holy sh-t.

The most interesting part of this move, I think, is my old landlords behaviour while I was packing and moving, and shortly thereafter.  The woman is insane, but I never really paid much attention to it, because whenever she started talking, I would just walk away (coming soon: the carpet chronicles and the neighbor chronicles – that will better convey what we had to deal with for so long), but this time, my buffer (Sunshine, my old housemate) had already moved a few months ago and I had a transient living with me. 

He isn’t really a transient, he’s a friend of mine that was just crashing for a few months after his lease ended.  It was helpful because I didn’t need to find a new place right away, he gave me money for rent, and literally showed up like once a week.

Anyway, she kept coming downstairs and standing in the way when I was packing and moving.  Its annoying.  And I get annoyed easily – I like to do things a certain way, I focus on things and when I’m distracted it pisses me off.  I refrained from shaking her and saying “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GO AWAY”.  I thought I was free and clear, until I see her calling my office the day after I moved.  Since we have this thing at work called “caller ID“, I recognized the number and said “Self, there is no f-cking way you are talking to this woman now”.

She leaves me a voicemail.  The gist of the voicemail was she was angry that I didn’t go upstairs and say goodbye, I didn’t give her back the key to the house, and I left the apartment “dirty”.

Excuse me?  Dirty?  No.  You can call me a lot of things (obnoxious, hilarious, gorgeous, brilliant, stunning, your favorite person in the whole world – to name a few), but don’t call me dirty.  And don’t tell me that the f*cking dump Sunshine and I fixed up (paint, new carpets and flooring, decoration) was in worse shape then when we moved in.  She literally said “I know what the apartment was when you rented it and this is not what it looked like”.

You’re right.  It doesn’t smell like piss, isn’t covered in nicotine and smoke stains, and doesn’t have your clutter everywhere.  It looks 185% better.  The only thing she said that was valid is we left food in the refrigerator.  I thought my transient housemate had cleared it out, but he didn’t.  Not a big deal, throw it out.

So I’m seething, and trying not to call her back until I’ve calmed down, as I don’t really like to yell at an old lady; when Sunshine IMs me:

“Yo, I got a message from <landlord> claiming you don’t call her back and the apartments a dump”

Are you serious.  Serious?  I text the transient and tell him to go to the apartment and get his goddamn food out of the refrigerator.  He heads over, and calls me, because the joints all locked up and he has no key.

Luckily – I always forget my keys when I go out, so I had like 5 copies made and I hid them in random parts of the yard.  I direct him to one, and he’s about to go inside when <landlord> comes down stairs screaming at him.

He hangs up, calls me back a few minutes later.  “F*ck her.  F*ck her.  Dude, she’s insane.  I don’t know what she’s talking about, but she says that everything in the apartment belongs to her now and she wants her key back, and that you’re an a$$hole because you don’t call her back”

She called me an hour ago!  For the love of God.  “anyway, I told her to keep the 5 yogurts and wraps that are in there and left”

sigh. I guess its time for me to put an end to the non-sense.  Not wanting to have a scene at work, I go outside and try to call her from my cell phone.

“user does not allow blocked numbers”

Of course.

Call her back.  “Landlord.  What the hell is going on.  Why the hell are you calling Sunshine telling her I left the place a mess, and dirty, and why are you harassing HER to tell ME to call you back when she moved out SIX MONTHS AGO.  And why the hell are you yelling at Transient?”.  She begins to tell me that she left me a message yesterday, and I didn’t call her back so I left her no choice. 

 Interrupting her, I ask her where she left a message, and she rattles off a cell phone that I haven’t had in two years. 

Me: “that number was disconnected two years ago.  I’m sure if I call it now, whoever is on the voicemail is NOT me.”

She tries to interrupt me again, and starts raising her voice, saying something along the lines of “put yourself in my shoes…”

Now I can pounce.

“No.  No.  I cannot put myself in your shoes.  Do you want to know why?  Because right now, you are acting insane.  Insane.  And I don’t want to act insane, because I don’t like that.  Let me tell you, I have lived in that apartment for over three years, and I have never caused you problems.  We paid our rent on time, we kept the place clean, we painted and decorated, and we put up with your bullshit.  Just the fact that you insinuate I would leave the apartment a “dirty mess” and didn’t move out properly is just insulting to me and my character.  I’m done with this nonsense.  You can keep whatever is in the goddamn fridge, and you can stop calling Sunshine because she has nothing do to with this bullshit.  I’m mailing you back your key, and you can shove it”.

click.

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