This is an old draft that I just found buried in my drafts folder….where I usually stash things that I need to sleep on before I commit to throwing it out into the interwebosphere. Fuck you – spellcheck. I just made that shit up – INTERWEBOSPHERE! Blam!
So this is when I worked at that other crazy property before I moved to the one I manage now. If you’re keeping track – and care – and stuff.
People are fucking weird.
This week is one for the record books.
Kids pooping on the floor of one of my laundry rooms at the apartment complex, and now? Some whackadoodle lady just called and bitched for 15 minutes about the kids climbing the tree outside of her apartment.
She opened the conversation with:
This is “Whackadoodle” and I’ve spoken to an attorney and I’m giving you the courtesy of one last phone call. The children playing outside at the playground are a bunch of screaming banchees and I’m getting sick of it.
Then she starts quoting the lease to me about the infractions that her attorney highlighted for her. Letting me know that if it continues that she will proceed with her attorney.
When I asked her what she was hoping an attorney would accomplish, she stated to me that she was going to pursue legal action with the children. M’kaaaaaayyy…like calling me to “let me know” was threatening me in some way – a courtesy call. I was all, “Okay – I agree with you. Go after the kids! If you need me to testify, I’m all over it!” What-thefuck-Ever lady…bring on the crazy.
The kids never act like this when I’m here M-F 9-5. She said it’s as if they send each other signals or something when my car leaves the property. When I walk out to the playground, the kids all stand up a bit straighter and watch me like a hawk – usually there’s a couple that I like to call, “The Informers” – they run right up to me and tell me about “Little Jimmy” pooping on the laundry room floor or how someone pulled their pants down and showed off their naughty bits on the playground. Or how they are throwing rocks, or hitting kids with sticks.
It’s not as if I’m not addressing the children when they misbehave around here – and I don’t even think that it’s my place to do so – I’d much prefer to yell at their parents, but since they like to climb the trees on my property, I walk out and help them out of the trees and request to them that they not climb them again. I’ve already taken up the battle with “Little Jimmy’s” parents because he pooped on my laundry room floor. BEE TEE DUBS: He’s being punished by his father. The punishment? Cleaning the apartment complex grounds every day for the next two weeks. Sweet punishment, Dad. My maintenance guy is happy – now he can take a break from walking around with his little extendo-grabby thingy and a bucket.