So. Many. Updates!

 

Let’s start today with something good: I have a clean front door—no gross sign!

 

crowd of The Simpsons characters cheering on the sidewalk

 

The inspection was actually before Christmas, but there was a lot going on at the same time and what with one thing and another I didn’t get around to telling you.  Partly because—in the manner we’ve come to expect from Sham Property Management Inc, LLC—even after the house “passed” and everything was “done” the final step took for goddamned ever.

 

I’ve got some possible Meth Ghost news to get to, so I won’t bore you with the details.*

 

 

  • Bob and I agreed, in advance of the “inspection,” that—absent any flagrant violations of a truly dangerous nature—the house would pass. If there was anything I/we wanted fixed, he would give the handyman (who would be present instead of Scott this time, more on that ahead) instructions to fix it before the end of the day.  All of that happens, more or less.
  • The day of the “inspection,” Bob also tells me he’s got a list of addresses which didn’t have a contract for trash services, and mine is on it. Cue flurry of angry texts and voicemails to Scott.
  • Trash Day: bins are collected by Trash Company. Outraged and threatening voicemail is left for Scott, in which I detail my plan to call every other Sham Property Management Inc, LLC office to complain about his incompetence and how he won’t return my calls.  Scott finally texts back: he is “in the hospital.”  “Awww…” I say out loud in an otherwise empty room, “Did someone finally get the beatdown they deserve for not doing their fuckin’ job?”**  Scott gives me another number, which is busy (for the next hour) and I repeat threats.  I am contacted by a Colleague at his office, Stacy.
  • Stacy explains the contract was cancelled due to non-payment, and she’s fixed that. She’s arranged for temporary bins to be delivered and I can have those collected/emptied at my convenience by calling a number she provides.  Stacy also apologizes for how long it took to get my inspection done and contacts the city to provide the remaining documentation they’re asking for.  Stacy, in other words, is Getting Shit Done.  I ask if Stacy is Scott’s replacement and she says she’s just filling in while he’s on paternity leave.
  • I am disgusted that someone willingly fucked Scott (and the image of him on holiday fawning over his sweaty little funtart and her crotch fuit) and ask everyone to pray that Stacy is able to steal his job while he’s gone.***
Young professional woman sitting at cluttered desk, chin propped on her fists,

“Yeah, if I unfuck all his shit before he gets back I for sure get to keep this job.”

 

Now on to the really interesting stuff.

 

Bob came by one day before the final inspection to chat about what needed to be done but also let me know that I had a problem.

 

 

BOB:  I can’t say who, but one of your neighbors here called in a complaint about your animals.
ME:  (blinks)  Well it could only be the crazy woman who doesn’t live next door.
BOB:  The person who called didn’t want to make an “official” complaint, which would have required them to leave their information, they just wanted a message passed on to me to “look into it.”
ME:  (rolls eyes)
BOB:  Yeah.  So I filed that in my circular file but I wanted to let you know—
ME:  (points)  You know who it was.  She was over here the other day, complaining that they took the fence down.
BOB:  It’s not her fence!  And it was old and—I said it had to either be repaired or taken down!
ME:  I know, but she came over here all butthurt because it’s gone and nobody asked her and now everyone can see the trash bags she had piled up there.
BOB:  (looks over)  Oh yeah… You could complain about that…
ME:  I don’t want to start shit.  She’s—
BOB:  She’s crazy.
ME:  Right?  Sometimes they just stand over there, staring.  And you know they can see right in through my glass doors—
BOB:  You’ve got a whole glass wall there—
ME:  And it’s right where my desk is and I’ll come out and start working and feel gross and look over and they’re standing there, staring!
BOB:  That’s so creepy!
ME:  Right?
BOB:  I don’t know what her problem is.  She moved out of that house years ago, and the city doesn’t allow for a house to sit vacant this long, so we contacted her and said she either needed to move someone in or sell the place.  She insisted she does live there—
ME:  No she doesn’t.  They come by maybe once a week if the weather’s nice, to haul out bags of… I don’t even know what.  And sometimes in the summer the boys come over for a day to do yard work and I have to wear a bra in my own house.
BOB:  …
ME:  (shrugs)
BOB:  Well anyway, we couldn’t prove that she didn’t live there—because she still picks up the mail and she claims she lives there.  So we started fining her for the state of the place.  Now all of a sudden she says she doesn’t live there and that’s why it’s so overgrown.
ME:  But then she complains when my yard guys accidentally cut some of her bushes back when they were doing mine.  Pfft.
BOB:  Did she really?  She is… I tell ya.  So anyway, I told her, I said if she lived there it’d be easier—
ME:  (shudders)
BOB:  But she won’t move back in.
ME:  Eh?
BOB:  Yeah, she says she’s afraid.
ME:  Say wuh now?
BOB:  I don’t know.  She lived in that house for… I don’t even know.  But she lived in there for years, raised a family there, all of that.  And now all of a sudden she’s afraid to live there.
ME:  Like, alone?
BOB:  No, I think she lives alone now.  I don’t know, she just said she’s afraid.
HOUSE:  (creaks)
ME:  (gets goosebumps)
BOB:  She’s so weird.
ME:  Do… do you think something happened to make her scared to live here?
BOB:  (scoffs)  Who knows.  She’s crazy!
ME:  Yeah…
BOB:  Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.  She called the wrong office if she wanted it to go any further—she’d need to call Animal Control, but even they… I mean, all of your animals are happy and healthy and well cared-for.
ME:  (nods)
BOB:  Okay, well I’m gonna get going.  I’ll see you for the inspection, right?
ME:  Yup, wouldn’t miss it.
BOB:  And just… I don’t know, just avoid her I guess?
ME:  (distracted)  Shouldn’t be difficult.
BOB:  Yeah.  Right!  ‘Cuz she’s afraid of the place!  (laughs)
ME:  (nervous laugh)

 

(The Conjuring) woman taking sheets off the laundry line is startled when sheet flies away, is hung up on invisible human form. Sheet flies away revealing no one

 

 

* By clicking this post, you’re agreeing to a quick recap.

** Seriously, I spared not one moment of sympathy.  If you think that makes me a bad person, go back and read the bit about how he sat at my desk without  asking.

*** It happens.  And every other time it happens, I am outraged and appalled that it continues to happen.  But, just this once, could it happen to someone who deserves it?

 

 

 

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