Beav Gets Into Verbal Altercation With New Landlord
6/09/05
For those of you who may not be aware, I moved into a new house at the beginning of May. I now live in a duplex with three girls who are friends of mine from when I used to be a theatre major. The place is pretty nice, albeit a little cheaply built. The walls are thin and the water heater is good for maybe 20 minutes of hot water, the washer & dryer are oldschool, etc. Living with the girls has been awesome, but the landlord is pretty much an absent figure. Fine, I guess, so long as nothing goes wrong. I gather that he's some sort of builder or something, and he's probably making a goddamn killing off this duplex that rents for $1200 a month on each half with no more money than he seems to have initially put into it. He's got another single home next door, and probably others around town.
When I moved in, I was told that we had a key to the garage outside, and that we can keep stuff in there if we need to, but we have to pay extra if we want to park in there. My car has lived outside for the last 5 years, I don't see a reason why it needs to stop now, so that's fine. The only thing I keep in there is my grill and a bag of charcoal. No problem, right? Wrong.
I get up one morning to find that the grill is outside next to the air conditioner rather than in the garage where I left it. I ask Jesse if she knows why, and evidently somebody came to the door at about 7:30 in the morning to inform her that the grill could not be kept in the garage, but didn't say why. Fine, the grill has lived outside before, it can do it again. I'll just keep the charcoal in the garage so it stays dry. No problem, right? Wrong.
I should explain at this point that the garage has been the center of much mystery since I moved in. There are a lot of tools and lawnmowers, snowblowers, etc. in there. I figure these must belong to the landlord and he uses them to take care of his properties or whatever. But frequently throughout the day a truck will pull up and some random guy I don't know will get out, go into the garage, come out a little while later and then leave. Frequently it's different guys. A touch on the weird side, but not any more weird than some of the shit that went on in my old neighborhood. I just figure they work for Bill and need to get something out of the garage and/or put something back. No problem, right? Wrong.
Two days ago:
I am starting up the grill to make some burgers, and so I get the charcoal out of the garage. Since I am planning on putting it back no more than 5 minutes later, I leave the door unlocked. In that time, a truck pulls up, and some old (read: 50s or 60s) guy gets out and goes into the garage. I go to put the charcoal back, and find that the door is locked. I get the key out and open the door. As I enter, I hear the sound of liquid falling in a bucket from about waist height. The old guy is standing over a bucket in the corner behind the door...and I pray to myself that he's just wringing out a rag or something. He doesn't greet me, he doesn't introduce himself, he just says "Make sure you keep that door locked." I inform him that I do keep the door locked, but since I was going to put my charcoal back within 5 minutes of using it, I thought it would be okay to leave the door unlocked. I am instantly pissed. I HATE it when people demand things without so much as a greeting, because it's fucking rude. Old people are fond of doing this in restaurants, and it makes me want to grab them by the jowls and shake them while screaming, "YOU WILL TREAT ME WITH THE SAME DECENCY WITH WHICH I TREAT YOU, OR I WILL PULL YOUR DEPENDS OVER YOUR HEAD AND SLAP YOU!!!". But I digress.
I ask the roommates, and they don't know who the guy is. They don't know him, but they do express ample disgust at the possibility that he was pissing in a bucket in a garage, as well they should. If you're that hard up to take a leak, knock on the back door and I'll let you use the bathroom. We're not in Botswana here, we have toilets available. As it is, nobody has any information, and I forget about it for a couple days.
Today I am about to make a trip to the hardware store, and I wonder if I should buy a hose to use if I want to wash my car or if there's one in the garage that I might use. I go look, and there is a hose, and on my way out...there's that bucket. I try to ignore it, but ultimately something within me forces me to go and examine its contents: one cigarette butt and about an inch of yellow liquid. I've pretty much seen what I need to, but call ever the glutton for punishment, I've gotta know for sure. I lean a little closer and smell. Yep, it's piss. That old guy pissed in a bucket in the garage and then left it there.
Now, maybe this is just a "me thing", but if I were a landlord and somebody who worked for me were urinating in a bucket on my property, I'd want to know about it so that I could inform him that big boys use the potty. Being used to formerly having a landlord who was classy and attentive and generally a nice guy, I figure it would be a good idea to call and inform my new landlord of this situation, so I do.
First I introduce myself, and ask if it is okay if I keep the grill in the garage. Bill can't decide if he wants to allow this or not, and generally sounds like he'd rather blow a farm animal than talk to me. I get the immediate impression that his people skills tend not to rate an A+. Ultimately nothing is resolved on the grill issue. I then inform him of the piss bucket situation, and his reaction is precisely the opposite of what I expect. He actually gets mad at me for being in or around the garage and informs me that the garage is their shop for them to use, and it's not intended for me to "be going in and out of there on a daily basis" and that he doesn't get what my "shock" is about his workers pissing in a bucket and dumping it outside. Maybe he'd wonder what the LPD's "shock" about it would be too if they caught somebody dumping urine outside. He then goes on to say in a very annoyed tone, and I quote, "So you got another question or what, because I'm trying to work here *bud*." At this point I'm tempted to flip my shit on him and inform him that he's welcome to stop being an asshole at any time and that he might want to get some loose idea of the concept of a business relationship is, and that we don't pay $1,200 a month for him to treat me like a whiny 5-year-old, but I take the high road and tell him I'm not looking for a confrontation with him and that I was evidently misinformed about the nature of my relationship with the garage, and he proceeds to get more angry and tells me that maybe he just won't allow us to keep anything in there and he should get the key back. He then tells me to call him later because he has work to do.
Fat fucking chance of me calling this guy back, because he strikes me as the type with a lot of balls at a distance but who wouldn't have the spine to mouth off to me like that to my face...but if he and his employees make a habit of being pricks to his tenants all the time, then you can bet that will bite him in the ass sooner or later. In the meantime, I'll be pondering the potential ramifications of getting into a feud with my landlord. I can't decide if it falls into the category of metaphorically shitting where you eat since that one is more reserved for workplace issues, but it's certainly not biting the hand that feeds you. Maybe a modified line from The Wizard of Oz is better: Pay no attention to the man behind the door...you were happier before you knew he was pissing in bucket in your garage.
For those of you who may not be aware, I moved into a new house at the beginning of May. I now live in a duplex with three girls who are friends of mine from when I used to be a theatre major. The place is pretty nice, albeit a little cheaply built. The walls are thin and the water heater is good for maybe 20 minutes of hot water, the washer & dryer are oldschool, etc. Living with the girls has been awesome, but the landlord is pretty much an absent figure. Fine, I guess, so long as nothing goes wrong. I gather that he's some sort of builder or something, and he's probably making a goddamn killing off this duplex that rents for $1200 a month on each half with no more money than he seems to have initially put into it. He's got another single home next door, and probably others around town.
When I moved in, I was told that we had a key to the garage outside, and that we can keep stuff in there if we need to, but we have to pay extra if we want to park in there. My car has lived outside for the last 5 years, I don't see a reason why it needs to stop now, so that's fine. The only thing I keep in there is my grill and a bag of charcoal. No problem, right? Wrong.
I get up one morning to find that the grill is outside next to the air conditioner rather than in the garage where I left it. I ask Jesse if she knows why, and evidently somebody came to the door at about 7:30 in the morning to inform her that the grill could not be kept in the garage, but didn't say why. Fine, the grill has lived outside before, it can do it again. I'll just keep the charcoal in the garage so it stays dry. No problem, right? Wrong.
I should explain at this point that the garage has been the center of much mystery since I moved in. There are a lot of tools and lawnmowers, snowblowers, etc. in there. I figure these must belong to the landlord and he uses them to take care of his properties or whatever. But frequently throughout the day a truck will pull up and some random guy I don't know will get out, go into the garage, come out a little while later and then leave. Frequently it's different guys. A touch on the weird side, but not any more weird than some of the shit that went on in my old neighborhood. I just figure they work for Bill and need to get something out of the garage and/or put something back. No problem, right? Wrong.
Two days ago:
I am starting up the grill to make some burgers, and so I get the charcoal out of the garage. Since I am planning on putting it back no more than 5 minutes later, I leave the door unlocked. In that time, a truck pulls up, and some old (read: 50s or 60s) guy gets out and goes into the garage. I go to put the charcoal back, and find that the door is locked. I get the key out and open the door. As I enter, I hear the sound of liquid falling in a bucket from about waist height. The old guy is standing over a bucket in the corner behind the door...and I pray to myself that he's just wringing out a rag or something. He doesn't greet me, he doesn't introduce himself, he just says "Make sure you keep that door locked." I inform him that I do keep the door locked, but since I was going to put my charcoal back within 5 minutes of using it, I thought it would be okay to leave the door unlocked. I am instantly pissed. I HATE it when people demand things without so much as a greeting, because it's fucking rude. Old people are fond of doing this in restaurants, and it makes me want to grab them by the jowls and shake them while screaming, "YOU WILL TREAT ME WITH THE SAME DECENCY WITH WHICH I TREAT YOU, OR I WILL PULL YOUR DEPENDS OVER YOUR HEAD AND SLAP YOU!!!". But I digress.
I ask the roommates, and they don't know who the guy is. They don't know him, but they do express ample disgust at the possibility that he was pissing in a bucket in a garage, as well they should. If you're that hard up to take a leak, knock on the back door and I'll let you use the bathroom. We're not in Botswana here, we have toilets available. As it is, nobody has any information, and I forget about it for a couple days.
Today I am about to make a trip to the hardware store, and I wonder if I should buy a hose to use if I want to wash my car or if there's one in the garage that I might use. I go look, and there is a hose, and on my way out...there's that bucket. I try to ignore it, but ultimately something within me forces me to go and examine its contents: one cigarette butt and about an inch of yellow liquid. I've pretty much seen what I need to, but call ever the glutton for punishment, I've gotta know for sure. I lean a little closer and smell. Yep, it's piss. That old guy pissed in a bucket in the garage and then left it there.
Now, maybe this is just a "me thing", but if I were a landlord and somebody who worked for me were urinating in a bucket on my property, I'd want to know about it so that I could inform him that big boys use the potty. Being used to formerly having a landlord who was classy and attentive and generally a nice guy, I figure it would be a good idea to call and inform my new landlord of this situation, so I do.
First I introduce myself, and ask if it is okay if I keep the grill in the garage. Bill can't decide if he wants to allow this or not, and generally sounds like he'd rather blow a farm animal than talk to me. I get the immediate impression that his people skills tend not to rate an A+. Ultimately nothing is resolved on the grill issue. I then inform him of the piss bucket situation, and his reaction is precisely the opposite of what I expect. He actually gets mad at me for being in or around the garage and informs me that the garage is their shop for them to use, and it's not intended for me to "be going in and out of there on a daily basis" and that he doesn't get what my "shock" is about his workers pissing in a bucket and dumping it outside. Maybe he'd wonder what the LPD's "shock" about it would be too if they caught somebody dumping urine outside. He then goes on to say in a very annoyed tone, and I quote, "So you got another question or what, because I'm trying to work here *bud*." At this point I'm tempted to flip my shit on him and inform him that he's welcome to stop being an asshole at any time and that he might want to get some loose idea of the concept of a business relationship is, and that we don't pay $1,200 a month for him to treat me like a whiny 5-year-old, but I take the high road and tell him I'm not looking for a confrontation with him and that I was evidently misinformed about the nature of my relationship with the garage, and he proceeds to get more angry and tells me that maybe he just won't allow us to keep anything in there and he should get the key back. He then tells me to call him later because he has work to do.
Fat fucking chance of me calling this guy back, because he strikes me as the type with a lot of balls at a distance but who wouldn't have the spine to mouth off to me like that to my face...but if he and his employees make a habit of being pricks to his tenants all the time, then you can bet that will bite him in the ass sooner or later. In the meantime, I'll be pondering the potential ramifications of getting into a feud with my landlord. I can't decide if it falls into the category of metaphorically shitting where you eat since that one is more reserved for workplace issues, but it's certainly not biting the hand that feeds you. Maybe a modified line from The Wizard of Oz is better: Pay no attention to the man behind the door...you were happier before you knew he was pissing in bucket in your garage.
posted by Beav at 4:46 PM
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