I am pessimist. And I
think if anything that I’ve learned in my property management experience that I
can take away a personal lesson in is, trust no one. People will say and do anything to get what
they want, it maybe an apartment or some sort of free service. None the less let me come back to my point which
is, I can tell a pervert a creep or a felon from around the block. I can look at a person and can pretty much
tell you what his demands or police reports are gonna look like. Some of these tips I pick up on, don’t take a
real detective, like a very formfitting t-shirt that says “kiss me, I am Irish”
with an arrow pointing downwards to a very hairy (not so) happy trail. Or a decently expensive vehicle that (belongs
to an unauthorized occupant, wisely of you to shack up with someone that lives
directly across the office) has 72 point font decals on the front declaring “dropping
more than just jaws” and “panty heist” on the back. Classy, really classy. I don’t think even Ron Burgundy would object
to that statement. I think I have been
scared only a few times on the job, and it’s the unsaid underlining threat of
violence that really scares me. I’ve had
bomb threats, someone who left bullet casings all along the window ceils, shot
through my office window, called my office a 100 times and told me he was going
to kill me and my whole entire family, nothing scares me more than a random
weird looking, quite man that has beady eyes floating into the office like he
he’s a cartoon character out of a Tim Burton movie, with his fly open and jail
tattoos covering employer undesired areas on the body.
So back to my main point.
One lovely afternoon, years ago, in the ghetto (lovely rhyme to rap
song) this man comes in, well rather
floats in 15 minutes ‘til closing and asks to see an apartment, all the whilst
scratching or touching his no-no area. I
politely explained that no, touring time is over and I would be happy to
reschedule but at this time I can only give you the packet of information. This man begins to moan and grown and whine
for me to take him to an apartment while looking around and asking if someone
else is here in the office, at which time I begin to grown a worry in my stomach. He than reaches over into my personal space
to grab a pen and to make notes on the packet of the info, he than places the
pen in his pocket and keeps reaching out to grab another one, than places that
pen behind his ear. During our what
seemed to be like a very long conversation he kept extracting pens from my
personal area and putting them in any place he had on him. He than interestingly enough begins to pick
his nose and flick what he could dig out of there unto the carpet, with out a
shame. Further more, he than asks to see
the apartment the 5th or the 6th time at which point I
internally begin to panic and look for the closest exit signs, while trying to
maintain my composure. I was very green
back in the day and didn’t know how to get out of this with out violating any
fair housing laws, but I figured avoiding getting cut up in tiny little pieces
I should go with my gut. I began to tell
him about the area were in and how conveniently we are located to shopping,
coffee houses and a…. police station, and a few schools. I hoped he would catch on and respond to what
I am putting down, and he did, to the fact that we’re to close to schools!!
(Gross) He explained that he was “wrongfully”
accused years ago and now can’t live with in a 1000 feet of a school. I was right, not elated by my judging skills,
but happy he prequalified himself. Thank
you for stealing all my pens, dirtying up my carpet, owe and saving yourself a
returned trip to find out we don’t want yeer kind around here hhhhanyways!
-Jewels
