What Comes Around

23 May

After working in property management for five years, I had developed a healthy loathing for most tenant complaints. I say healthy because it had not yet reached the point where I was shopping for “the perfect envelope” to mail flour in for my downward spiral into being a psychopath.

That trip to Crazytown aside, this weekend that proverbial shoe was firmly secured on the other foot. First the circuit breaker that controlled power to our entire second floor bit the dust. It penned a long, well thought out letter letting us know that we would soon be entering the second circle of hell and for us to remember to pack a snack. Thanks. Then the A/C died. Oh, hell. You’re so hot and humid…and hot. What’s up with that?

I knew better than to think that this was a precursor to this past weekends supposed apocalypse. I kindly turned down an offer from a homeless gentleman to wear a sandwich board claiming “the end was nye.” No, all those years of complaining about whining tenants had finally come back to bite me. In the rear. With teeth.

My first floor which usually doubles as a meat locker, heated up to 80 degrees. My second floor, which normally struggles to stay cool on a good day, got up into the mid-80’s. Oh, it all kinds of terrible. We all lazed about the downstairs trying to move as little as possible lest we create any unnecessary body heat. I would have laid down belly-first on the kitchen floor, but the dogs had beaten me to it. At least once an hour I attempted a call to my landlord who never answers the phone and most certainly never listens to a voice mail. He likes to let them build up until his voice mail box is bursting at the seams with pleas from his hapless tenants. Then, after they’ve marinated for a few days, he erases all the messages without listening to them to let the game begin anew. What can I say; I’ve got some resentment issues.

After 48 hours of sweating, and with no oldies to sweat to, we broke down and called our own technician to come out and fix the A/C. It was almost 9:00 at night on a Saturday. Oh yeah. We paid time and a half and had the air working again by 10. It was the best money Jordan and I have spent to date. Of course by then it was still in the 80’s and the kids were still awake. Thus they camped out downstairs and Jordan and I lay prone without moving all night upstairs. Thankfully it was back in the 70’s by morning.

Sunday was spent frolicking about the house, soaking in the cool air and generally cursing the name of our landlord. It was a great day.

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One Response to “What Comes Around”

  1. Aunt Glenda May 23, 2011 at 3:56 PM #

    It is amazing how our words do come back to haunt us, Now we know how those tenants felt all those weekends they went unheard. Try to stay cool, hot here also, got to 96 degrees on Sunday. We need rain really bad. Luv u tell the kids we miss them

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