Ranty Times in Sassyland

I have co-workers that seem to be getting away with a whole helluva lot of stuff lately and the culmination of their gettingawaywithit’s (shut-up spellcheck…) is just really starting to make me super bitter and pissy. It probably doesn’t help that my BFF is somewhat of a manager figure in their lives and uses me as a sounding board – but to be honest, I may have to ask her to stop, but my fear of her not telling ME these things, is that she will tell someone else that will not be as discreet as I am/have been – so I’d rather be the one that she comes to, but it’s wearing me out because at this point, I feel like I couldn’t do ANYTHING to get my ass fired that would be as bad as the bullshit I’m hearing about…not only that, but I’d never even test that theory because I’m awesome like that and I get paid a decent wage to do my job and don’t feel the need to test any of the powers-that-be.

There are other things too – like my relationship feels strained on my end with my BFF because of the way I see how she is or isn’t managing these people. I’m feeling really judgey – not in a catty way or in a way that I don’t want to see her succeed – it’s more of a disappointment, I guess, that she is allowing to be taken advantage of and allowing certain staff members to get away with certain behaviors that, in the real world, would get their asses pink-slipped.

I attempt to give her solid professional advice which I feel falls on deaf ears, which makes me just want to shut my fucking mouth and not say a word, but I want her to succeed and my feeling is that if she continues to be taken advantage of, at some point, someone who matters will catch wind of it and then it will reflect poorly on HER that she didn’t take a stand when these behaviors started showing their ugly heads.

I’m in a pickle here. I’m a very honest person. If I feel that I need to have a hard conversation with her about how she is being perceived, I have no issue with having that conversation. I can be very diplomatic and lady-like, if forced when I need to be. And how she is being perceived is not really up for debate – if these people saw her as an authority figure, they would not be testing the waters like this. Testing the waters is something one does when they want to see how far they can push a person. If these people had any respect for her position as their immediate supervisor, they would be courteous and do things like call her when they take a sick day, or not take a sick day every Monday or Friday, or do something as simple as listen to their voicemails so that when they call in sick and she has to cover their office while they are out, she doesn’t have 40-50 voicemails that need to be listened to and/or responded to.

Here’s a GREAT example:

Yesterday, one of the units in an apartment complex that my BFF supervises, caught on fire. A very sad and heartbreaking thing to happen – a woman lost her life and a little 5 year old boy was in critical condition with burns all over his body. No one else was hurt. Apparently, the manager of that complex, one of these co-workers I’m bitching about, had stayed home sick yesterday. So, my BFF got a call that there was a fire from one of the maintenance staff, so she dropped what she was doing and took off for the complex to do whatever she could at the property, since the manager was gone, apparently – because she hadn’t gotten that call in the morning to let her know that she was home sick. (See? I mean…) After things had settled down a bit she took a moment to text the manager to let her know what happened.

No response.

Like, if something like that had happened to the property I manage, my ass would have 1.) Called to let my boss know I was sick and couldn’t make it in – IN THE DAMN FIRST PLACE. 2.) Had I gotten notified that an emergency of this magnitude had occurred, I would have jumped out of bed, gotten dressed and went down there!!!!!!!!! I just would. And I bet if you thought about that for even 2 seconds, that would be your reaction as well.

So, more time passed throughout the day and my BFF texted again to let her know that someone had passed from the fire and a boy was burned badly and after awhile she got this message back:

Is the fire out?

FOUR WORDS. She never showed up to see if she could help…

In defense of this person, she is a very caring individual. I think some things are happening in her personal life that are causing her to not make some very good decisions. BUT IF NO ONE CALLS HER ON IT, SHE WILL CONTINUE DOING THIS BULLSHIT.

Bye-guys

Anyway, I’m feeling burdened by all of this. It’s hard for me to take her seriously at all. Like…at. all.  SEE?!?!?!?! I’m getting PISSY NOW! Gah! There’s more, but I need to keep that to myself and just end this rant here because it’s already too long and I’m sure I’ve bored you with this subject enough.

Thanks for listening, y’all.

 

 

 

Misophonia – It’s a “thing”, y’all. Look it up.

It happens against my will. It’s almost as if I get possessed. One minute I’m fine…the next I’m shooting daggers out of my eyes.

Usually, the first thing that I notice is people chewing their food noisily. At first, I’m able to control my twitchy eye. Breathing exercises work great. After that fails, though…all bets are off.

I drop little hints to those around me starting with that stare with the squinky eye. (Dear spellcheck…squinky IS a word…because I just made it up.) The offender usually senses this look…stops chewing for a moment, then says something like, “What?” to which I respond, “Oh…nothing…” hoping they get the hint. When that fails I go a little bit more passive-aggressive-aggressive.

Do those Funyuns taste good?!

I’m usually met with, “They sure do, want some?” I respectfully decline.

It will typically escalate from there. Here are ways that I will attempt to drown out or get them to stop:

  1. Turn on my music at my desk or turn on the TV.
  2. When that doesn’t work, I’ll turn up the volume so that I drown out that god-forsaken sound from my head.
  3. I remind myself that I love the person making this goddamned noise and sometimes that works…most of the time it does not.
  4. Slamming of dishes ensues.
  5. I will literally throw a fork onto my plate causing a scene making everyone nervous and occasionally they will leave the room.
  6. Heavy sighs work the best, I’ve found. And if you accompany the squinky eye and the stare-down, the offender knows you mean business.
  7. The final straw comes when I have had enough. Usually directed at my poor sweet husband or my BFF who both love me unconditionally and are the worst offenders. These two people love me DISPITE my shortcomings and weird quirks. I typically lose it completely.

The conversation will begin with the look. And my reactions exponentially get ballsy-er from there:

  • Blank stare while simultaneously freezing in place causing a silence in my general direction that is immediately noticed and the sense of being watched rather intensely is completely palpable.
  • They look in my direction, usually freezing in mid-chew. Let’s not forget, these people know me. They know exactly what this look means.
  • They say, “What?” – I say, “I’m literally going to stab you and to go prison if you don’t figure out how to chew more softly.” They say, “I’m just eating.” – I say, “Fine! YOU EAT AND I’LL GO LOOK FOR A KNIFE!”
  • They say, “You need to calm down.” – I say, “What would you like on your headstone? ‘Here lies Mr. Sassy, his wife murdered him because he wouldn’t chew softly and she fucking had had enough, already.'”*

In the end, I make my point. And a few days later, I feel really bad that I went so nutso about it – but SERIOUSLY.

* Don’t you fucking love it when you get to use “had had” in a sentence?! I do. Especially if it ends up on a head stone.

 

Apartment Manager Tales: El Gallo! And broken windows…

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El Gallo – aka The Motherfucking Rooster.

EL GALLO!!!!!!! a.k.a. The Motherfucking ROOSTER that one of my residents at my apartment complex has been keeping mostly in their van – but also in their APARTMENT. Yeah…let that sink in for a minute…

Let me paint you a picture – let’s rewind about 5 months ago…

We get a call from a concerned resident that there appears to be a Rooster making noise closeby. Complaining of early morning COCK-A-DOODLE-DOOOOOO’s and the accompanying rooster sounds that one assumes a rooster to do. We say – well? Where is it coming from?

THE VAN!!!

So, being the amazing managers that we – my co-worker – and I are, we spoke to the resident who was in possession of the rooster and calmly stated that this was against our rules and that they needed to get rid of the rooster.

Assuming that’s the last we’d hear about it – because – YOU CANNOT FUCKING HAVE A DAMN ROOSTER IN AN APARTMENT! And also – if it were a metal rooster – much like my blog idol Jenny Lawson covets…that’s one thing…that, I can deal with – and coincidentally – IT’S NOT AGAINST THE RULES TO HAVE A METAL ROOSTER IN YOUR APARTMENT.

But. I. Digress.

You’d think that simple phone call was all that was needed, right? Not so fast there, bub. Not. Even. Close.

2 months later…I get a call – and I’m paraphrasing here…

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggg……

Moi: Yo, Sassyland Apartments, this is Sassy…S’up?

Neighbor to the Illegal Rooster People: The Rooster. Is in their apartment. Again.

Moi: You have GOT to be GODDAMNED KIDDING ME!!!!!

Neighbor to the Illegal Rooster People: Nope. It got loose the other day and they were chasing it around the parking lot

So…this time I wait for them to come in and pay rent. This is going to need some face to face action…I can tell. Also? I use my handy-dandy maintenance dude for his Spanish Speaking Skills…I love him – and I’ll tell you why: HE REPEATS EVERYTHING I SAY!!! INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO; hand gestures, raising of my voice, and the scowl I get when I look at people like they are stupid. He’s pretty cool, you guys.

So, I say what needs to be said and he translates and they are 100% clear on what I’ve instructed them to do.

1 month later…my maintenance guy calls me on a Thursday and says:

EL GALLO IS HERE IN THE VAN RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! After I recovered from giving myself a facepalm, I consulted with my co-worker and we decided to call Animal Control. AND GUESS WHAT?! They came out within about 10 minutes of us calling – curiously enough, it takes the police about 20 minutes to get here when I call about a Domestic Violence situation – considering this was a stupid rooster, I’ll be lucky if I see someone show up at all…and also there was jokes about firing up the BBQ (from them, not me) – so…next thing you know…they actually SHOW UP!

The get to the apartment and the guy is SOOOOOO pissed. He doesn’t want to give them his I.D. – he doesn’t let them in, he won’t go to the van to show them, so the Animal Control people call the police to come out.

The police get there and as they go to walk up to the apartment they tap on the van and the rooster makes a noise. At this point, they weren’t 100% sure it was in the van – but NOW they know for sure that it IS!

The wife of the angry man came down and opened up the van – and told her husband to back off because he followed her down there and they get it open. They found the rooster in a box, on a hot day…no food or water…and they found something else.

A BABY ROOSTER…..

They wanted our resident to just sign over the rooster to Animal Control and they would not charge him with animal cruelty, but he refused. Now, he’s being charged.

Not only did we tell him on three separate occasions to get rid of the rooster – but at some point – he thought it would be a GREAT idea to get ANOTHER ONE! Can you believe the cajones on this guy?!

So Friday rolls around and I get to work – as I walk up to my French doors – which are glass paned, I see crackled glass and a hole. “Someone” broke the glass in our French doors to the office. I’m not pointing any fingers or anything – but it sure seems like a coincidence to me.

I love my job. Something tells me this is not the end of this story.

 

 

 

Happy Anniversary to ME, from WordPress and ROOSTERS.

It’s been 4 years of sporadic posting, hilarity and profanity here in Sassyland. I need to thank those of you that actually read this drivel, for without you, I surely would have given up long ago.

And while we are on the subject of giving up…my newest frustration comes in the form of a ROOSTER.

Yep! You read that right. I have a tenant that will NOT get rid of the Rooster they have had staying in their van for the last several months. Apparently, they have had him since he was just a little wee chicky. And it’s their pet. I KNOW, YOU GUYS!

Well, about 8 months ago, I reported in this VERY BLOG, about this rooster that was living in their van. They were asked back then to get rid of it because we don’t allow FARM ANIMALS on the property. It’s not just an apartment rule…it’s also a city ordinance. So, you know…GET RID OF IT. Only, they moved it from their van to their apartment. Yep.

I got a call from one of my other tenants the other day telling me that there is a rooster in the apartment above hers and crows in the wee morning hours and makes all sorts of racket up in the apartment.

And the other day, it got loose in the parking lot and they were chasing it all over the place for like, 1/2 an hour!

And so, after I stopped laughing – because when someone tells you that there is a chicken on the loose in the parking lot and there are grown people chasing it and you DON’T LAUGH? You’ve got to be dead inside. After I stopped laughing – I told her I’d take care of it.

FAST FORWARD TO TODAY – they speak Spanish so, I had my maintenance guy come in to translate for me so there would be NO FURTHER MISUNDERSTANDING regarding this MOTHERFUCKING ROOSTER:

They came in to pay their rent…late…but – whatevs. I took the opportunity to confront them about the damned rooster. Again. It went a little like this:

Me: Let’s talk about the rooster again.

Them: *blank stare*

Me: I told you once before to get rid of the rooster. My co-worker told you to get rid of the rooster two weeks ago.

Them: *averting their eyes*

Me: I will not ask you again to get rid of the rooster. If I hear about that rooster one more time, I’ll evict you. We cannot have roosters living here – in your van OR your apartment. The city doesn’t allow it and neither do I.

Them: Okay, okay, okay.  I’m going to make a house for it. I have a friend that is a cop and he said I can make a house for it.

Me: YOU CANNOT HAVE A HOUSE BUILT FOR A ROOSTER HERE!!!!!!! Why don’t you understand?!?

Them: No, I have a friend that will let me keep it at their house, I’ll make a house for them there. My English no so good.

Me: My Spanish no so good, either, so no rooster here. And it needs to happen RIGHT AWAY! No more ROOSTER.

Them: GOD MADE THE ANIMALS!!!!

Me: Yes, that’s the rumor.

Them: He’s very very pretty.

Me: I’m sure he is. He can be pretty somewhere else, NOT HERE.

Then my co-worker pulled out a can of whoop-ass:

Co-Worker: I told you last week to get rid of the Rooster. Either get rid of him or move out and turn in your keys. This is ridiculous. There’s no more discussion.

Them: What you say?!?! GOD made the animals. God made the animals before He made the humans!

Me: Okay. Just make sure the rooster is gone. I don’t want to have to talk to you about this again.

Them: Ok, ok…GOD BLESS YOU.

Roosters. God damned ROOSTERS. #apartmentmanagerproblems

 

 

These Woodpeckers are Driving Us Insane: Apartment Manager Tales

There are a lot of things I can do to help make my tenants comfortable. Fixing things that are broken in their apartment homes, being friendly, letting them know they are valued, offer my counseling services when they need a shoulder to cry on, quiet down their neighbors if they get rowdy, accept packages from the FedEx or UPS driver when they aren’t home…but there are *some* things…some things…that are out of my control.

The Apartment Manager vs. Nature:

Me: Blahbitty Bloobitty Apartments, this is Sassy, how may I help you?

Caller: Yeah…I don’t know if you’ve been getting calls about this, have you?

Me: You’ll have to tell me what you’re talking about there, sir.

Caller: The woodpeckers! They are driving us nuts – you’ve HAD to have gotten some calls about this.

Me: No, I can’t say that I have. What is going on?

Caller: Well, they are pecking at all hours of the day and it’s driving us INSANE. What can you do about it?

Me: Well, there’s not much I can do about nature, unfortunately – but I’ll send my maintenance guy out to take a look and see if there is anything that can be done. I will not guarantee any kind of permanent solution nor result, however. It’s spring. The birds are out.

Caller: Well, this is just ridiculous. He needs to put up flashy ribbon or something because we can’t keep dealing with this.

Me: Again, I cannot guarantee the results you desire, but I will send him over to take a look.

 

Dear Apartment Dwellers Everywhere,

There are some things that are out of your apartment staffs capabilities…taming wildlife is one of those things. We truly have no control over birds, raccoons, deer, wildebeasts, hyenas or any other fauna that you may encounter. Pests, on the other hand, we can deal with. We CAN fix your leaky sink or your plugged up toilet (training our tenants of the fine art of the “courtesy flush” is something that has had to take place…yes…we try to educate whenever possible…).

We love you, but so help me, I will not hesitate to smack you up side the head if you start in with your silly, petty demands. Don’t test me.

Love,

Sassy the most AMAZING apartment manager ever to have walked the PLANET!

Sassyland – People Pleasing and Saying No

Hi Guys…I’ve got something to get off my chest…

I come from a long line of over-achievers. Entrepreneurs and self-starters. I have a business mind. I like that about myself. I think full-circle, I know what it takes to make something succeed. I love my job for those very reasons. I’m an apartment manager. It’s basically running your own business on behalf of someone who is taking all the risk and reaping all of the reward, which I’m fantastically happy to do. I love everything about property management. Even when these asstards don’t come in and pay their rent or give me a hard time.

For the last few months, I offered my expertise to one of my Management Company’s “Property Managers” (a “property manager” manages the Managers…so basically someone who is in the same position as my boss.) to help get his Apartment Managers on track with the way our company needs things at the property level to run. My outlook on this task is simple, bring these managers up to speed on how to run the Management System that we use, help them get organized and to help them shine and succeed, so that we can save the account which will help to save 7 properties in our company’s portfolio.

Recently, I was asked if I’d like to “lease” a few single family homes in a development that we manage for an owner. There were 4 vacancies within this community. I would only be responsible for leasing these homes – which means I’d need to market them and show them and sign the lease with the new resident. Herein lies my issue.

I’m a control freak. There…I said it.

The troubles I have with this task are both professional and personal.

Professional:

  • I don’t have control of when maintenance needs to be done on these homes when the time comes for someone to move out. Vendors need to be contacted, work scheduled and there needs to be a sense of urgency to get things done so that we can get someone else in there. I have the power
  • At the time I was offered this position, it would be on top of what I’m doing already with the other properties that I’m “helping” get up to speed. I’m already taking 2-3 hours per day Tuesday – Friday to do this.
  • The properties are about 40 minutes from my house, 25 minutes from my home property, that I’m still responsible for.
  • When I said “Yes” it was with trepidation, thinking about all of the things I’d have to juggle so that I could be sure that I was still helping at my property as well as helping the other managers with their properties.

Personal:

  • My nephew did a “terrible/awful” and we may or may not have some very serious things to attend in the coming months and we are sort of on-call for if/when these things occur. (yes, I’m being purposely vague…it’s too much to type and waaaaaay too much to put out there on the interwebs.)
  • My brother-in-law is a hot mess and is in horrible health and is in constant need of help, it seems.
  • My mother and father in-law are very old and sickly and both have health issues. We seem to be the only children in the family that can rush to them at a moments notice to help them or buy them groceries and a myriad of other things.

As you can see, my plate if fairly full as it is, without adding this task to the list – and I haven’t even added anything about my personal family unit.

For my sanity, after a week of answering inquiries, trying to coordinate with the person that is in charge of getting the vendors set to complete these homes so that they can be re-rented, I sent an email saying I felt that it was a good idea if I didn’t accept this job at this time.

If you knew me personally, you’d know that I have probably lost several hours of sleep the last several days obsessing about how I could possibly manage to make this work…and the thing is…I feel that it would take less energy to be in control of the whole thing – from beginning to end – than to just be the person that shows the homes and signs leases with new residents. The worrying about the unknown drives me up the wall. I guess I’d prefer and it’d be less stress for me if I had complete control than only partial and be the person hanging on a thread waiting for someone to finally tell me things are ready and have to constantly ask if things were done.

Bleh.

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I hate saying no. I’m learning to say no more frequently and that probably comes from “being of a certain age”. Being of a certain age also helps you realize what kind of people you want in your life and what tasks you are comfortable taking on and which battles you choose to take on and which ones you need not bother with.

Having been a people pleaser for much of my 43 years has brought with it a lot of frustrations. You learn a lot about the things you let bother you and how to surround yourself with people that enrich your life rather than drain you of your will to live. You learn a lot about your own limitations and what it takes for you to be happy and to create balance. You learn a lot about what you absolutely will not compromise on. You measure the risk vs. reward and learn what true pros and cons are. Genuine-ness takes the front seat and Superficial-ness gets dropped at the curb.

 

 

 

Apartment Manager Tales #70: *facepalm*

Can we all just agree that paying your rent on time is YOUR responsibility and that it’s NOT the responsibility of your APARTMENT MANAGER? After all, we DO give a 5 day grace period before late fees are imposed.

Man up – or woman up – AND PAY YOUR FUCKING RENT ON TIME.

Guess what happens if I don’t pay my house payment on time, y’all?

THEY TAKE MY FUCKING HOUSE AWAY, THAT’S WHAT.

 

 

11wD2RW

add *muthafuckah* to that…

Apartment Manager Tales #43: Good luck with that…

Last month – one of our perpetually late paying tenants came into the manager’s office to *finally* give a partial rent payment. I explained how much he still owed and he questioned why I wasn’t waiving the late fees. I – initially – responded calmly and stated that the owners didn’t allow us to waive the late fees and that he had to pay them.

He responded with, “Yes they do.”

I calmly folded my hands on my desk and said, “No, no they don’t.” He then asked what his late fee was and I explained to him that it was 20% of the amount left owing after the rent deadline…which was about $200 for him. He was none too pleased with this response.

He continued:

“You can…you just won’t.”

Me: No, the owners have given us strict instructions to NOT waive late fees. We are not waiving late fees for ANYONE.

Him: You aren’t anybody. You ain’t nuthin to me.

Me: Well, I’m the manager here. Pay your rent on time and you won’t have to pay a late fee. It’s pretty simple.

Him: You don’t know me lady, you are NOTHING.

Me: Well, that’s about all I’m going to take from you. You’re not welcome here anymore. Get out of my office. *shooing motion with my hands…dismissively…like I’m shooing a goat*

About a week and a half later, he comes in and pays every penny of his late fee and remaining rent balance. It, of course, was after we sent our monthly reports to the owners of his building, so it showed that he owed money still – which completely pisses me off.

So Mr. Jackhole called today and asked for my co-worker that works in the office with me.

Me: She’s not here, may I help you?

Him: No, I don’t want to talk to you.

Me: Okay – who is this.

Him: Jackhole.

Me: Ah. Okay – well, I can’t tell you for sure if she will be here when you call back because she’s helping at another property. If you tell me what you’re calling for, perhaps I can help you. Is there something wrong with your apartment? Is there something that needs fixed? *of course I know that he’s calling to say he will be late with his rent…AGAIN…because he’s been late with his rent ever since he moved in…but I figured I’d humor him.*

Him: I just want to talk to the other lady. She knows my situation and can help me.

Me: Again – I’m not sure when she will be here, so if I can help you, I will.

Him: I really don’t want to fight with you. We got off on the wrong foot and you were rude, so I’m not going to talk to you. I really don’t think you’re sincere in trying to help me, so I’m not going to talk to you.

Me: Ok dude. Do whatever you want, I guess if she doesn’t call you back before you need something, you’ll have to deal with me. Good luck with that.

rent

Apartment Manager Tales # 42: A rooster in a van.

This goes into my “You’ve *GOT* to be fucking kidding me” file.

Chevrolet-Express-VanPLUS

roosterEQUALS

A ROOSTER…IN A VAN, Y’ALL!

10:17 AM November 17th, 2014

Caller: Hi – I wanted to let you know that the new people that moved in above me have a rooster in their van and it’s been crowing really early in the mornings and it’s been waking me up for quite some time. It’s been getting really cold out lately and I  think you should call animal control or something because this is really quite ridiculous.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…hang on a second. I’m sorry if I’m cutting you off or laughing at what you’re telling me right now, but did you just say the people who moved in above you are keeping a *rooster* in their *van*?

Caller: Yes, that’s what I’m saying.

Me: I mean, I’m sorry if I’m laughing, but this might be the best call yet. And you are giving me some really good Facebook material right now if I heard you correctly. [yes – I really said all of this as I was laughing…] I’m going to just repeat what you said, you said there is a rooster in a van and it’s been in there for awhile and it “crows” in the morning – waking you up, right? Like, this is really happening?

Caller: Yes, that’s what I said. I walked up to it because I was washing my windows and I saw a cage in there…and a rooster.

Me: Wow. Okay. We will….address this and deal with it. Thanks for calling.

Now…I’d like it to be known that our “Pet Policy” already reads like a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not marketing piece…or maybe a Candid Camera episode…but I never thought I’d have to add “rooster” to the list. (We actually had to add “Flying Squirrels” to this list…as my maintenance guy says…it only takes one idiot to ruin it for the whole group.)

#apartmentmanagerproblems

Welcome to the new Followers of Sassypanties!

So you clicked that little ” follow” button. Are you sure? Like…really sure you want to do that? Because SHIT GETS REAL UP IN HERE, YO!

Here’s what you can expect out of me – and I’ll provide you with bullet points to make it easy and quick to read, m’kay?

  • Profanity – my faves are: shit, fuck, motherfucker, fucktard, asshead and/or some hybrids thereof that I have GENIOUSLY (if I do say so myself) made up as I’ve gone through life or borrowed from some of my most favorite vulgar people.
  • I will bring the funny on a practically monthly or semi-annual basis. There was a time when I would flood WordPress with posts…but those days are behind me.
  • Truth. I don’t lie and I try not to sugar coat shit…life is hard enough trying to read the mixed signals that fake people throw out into the universe. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.
  • Apartment Manager Tales will continue. I’m an apartment manager. Lots of crazy shit happens around here and I’ve managed to be transferred throughout our company so that I can improve each property that I’ve landed – my most current property is the largest account that our company has in its portfolio and I’ve been here a week. I’ll give it a month before the crazy shit starts hitting the fan and I have to lay the hammer down. The cool part about this new place? I don’t have any cleaning up to do. It’s a well oiled machine and I’m thrilled to be here.
  • I’m sarcastic as FUCK. If you don’t like sarcasm and perfectly placed profanity, then you may want to find another blog to follow.

In a nutshell, if I haven’t upset you by any of these – then WELCOME ABOARD TO THE SASSYLAND EXPRESS! Get ready for a bumpy, funny, profanity-filled ride.

I had a guy blindly follow me once and when he read my post commented, “If I had known you had such a filthy mouth, I wouldn’t have followed you in the first place.” This is why I feel the need to give you a little back ground because – I don’t just want pity-follows here, people. IN FACT – I suspect my follower count will go down because of this post – which I’m perfectly ok with, if you must know.

But Sassy…are you really like this in real life? Meh – my head is like this 100%, but I’ve recently decided that I’ve been blessed with a “self-edit feature” which is REALLY SUPER HANDY WHEN YOU ARE AN APARTMENT MANAGER. These fucking people drive me crazy. I haven’t heard an original excuse as to why someone can’t pay their rent in a long time. I physically have to close my eyes sometimes so that people don’t see my eyes rolling into the back of my head. So – instead of outwardly speaking these profanities – which most certainly would have landed me in the unemployment line – I created a blog. Now I can “say” what I really want to say – when I really want to say it and keep my professionalism in check. It’s a win-win, really. You win (or at least I’d like to think that you do) and I win because I don’t get fired.

The real-life me is quite nice and kind and generous with my friends and family. I care – to a fault. But all of that just means that I need a place to vent – and….LUCKY YOU!

If you have any questions you’d like answered, feel free to ask them in the comment section. If you have an apartment manager question – or just would like to know how Sassy would handle a certain situation, I’ll be happy to provide you with my version of the way shit should go down. Comments are awesome. I don’t really want to fucking beg you to comment or anything, but seriously…would it kill you to type something down there? I mean…it takes just a second or two, right? C’mon…I dare you.