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May 27, 2014

My lawyer is better than your lawyer


Most than anything I and other property managers love the residents that make it a sport of torturing and challenging the office staff, especially me, since the title manager means “the only person to handle a noise complaint.” So I recently had this resident, an old mean granny that decades ago had a job as a legal secretary (pfffit… big deal, all it means is you’re a minion for an attorney) and finds it fulfilling to question and demand an explanation for every move we make, and as classy as she posses herself it’s not above her to yell and cuss us out. 

So a year later we finally got fed up with her antics and served her a notice.  Of course she’s an expert on the matters and storms in threatening to sue us and blah blah blah.  Go ahead.  So she finds this ambulance chaser who takes this poor angry residents money to write a ridicules letter, which I always find amusing.  And as soon as our attorney responds, folds and gives a 30 days notice on behalf of the resident.  Really?! Was it worth it wasting your retirement money?  And of course this resident shorts her rent payment, demands we don’t charge her anything for damages.  At this point I don’t even care, your one foot is out the door the other one is on a banana peal.  Just get out.  She finds anyway possible to torture us all the way until her departure. 
 
So she asks that we let her move out earlier than her 30 days notice.  Yes, please!  Well she must have been a clever spy in her past life because what she actually does, returns a key and says she moved out. Little did she know I’m actually good at my job and go to the unit the following day to do a move out inspection.  Her shit is still there, along with her 2 dogs, an unauthorized cat and herself, clever. So after explaining that if you are still in the unit that means you have the possession of the unit, so she corners me and explains that she made those extra keys and paid for them so she’s keeping them, and after you break down her nonsense to her, her only response is “I worked for an attorney!”  What am I supposed to bow down and pee myself?  Just get out!  Clever still, she turns in her keys days later, claiming she has moved out.  Yes, finally!  Hallelujah! So I happily skip over there and talk myself into erasing any memory I have of her and pep myself up about the new sweet old lady that is going to be moving in there shortly, and how smart and beautiful I am, as I skip right into a giant pile of goods tucked underneath the stairways with a hand written sign that says “don’t touch, I’ll will be coming back!” Uhh... I give up.


- Jewels

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