Since moving into our apartment two and a half years ago, we have tried to avoid conflict with our landlord and our completely obnoxious neighbours. They fight, they sue eachother, they've each tried to recruit us to join their mission of destroying the other. It's been madness, and we've refused to get involved. Right from the beginning we agreed to kill our landlord with kindness; we did NOT want to be on his bad side. When our dishwasher broke, we asked him politely if at some point he could please stop by to take a look at it. He came over, tinkered with it for a while, and concluded that I was certainly using dishsoap that was too high-quality for such a modest machine. His solution? I should start using no name powder soap, and ditch my liquid Cascade. My problem was surely that my flamboyant soap created too many suds and overwhelmed the poor dishwasher into leaking water all over the kitchen floor. He refused to call the Maytag maintenance people because it would cost more than the thing was worth in the first place, and left.
I didn't complain. I stood there in stupified silence, but I didn't complain. Eventually, and miraculously, the dishwasher managed to right itself, and I moved on, chalking it up to a one-off bad experience.
A few short months later, my son (who was 4 or 5 months old) started crying in his room after waking from a nap. I went to get him, turned the doorknob, and... nothing. The knob just spun around, not retracting the little piece that latches into the door frame. My husband and I began to worry, and tried brainstorming, calling family for ideas. However, since all the hardware for the knob and hinges for the door are on the inside, and our son was growing more hysterical by the second we had no choice but to break the door down. The latch never actually lined up properly with the door jam (oh lord, am I using the right terminology? I've never pretended to be a carpenter, or hell, a man, so please forgive me and try to follow along), and I guess finally the whole thing just got sick of not fitting. So, when Luke busted the door in it cracked the frame and part of the door in the process.
The next day we called our landlord and explained the situation. We asked that he please come and replace the door so we can latch it again. He grudgingly said he'd be by the next day, but he never showed. Luke called him once more to get him to come by, but he never came, never called, nothing. That was well over a year ago, and we've just left the door ajar since then. In the grand scheme of things, not such a big deal, though, right? Not really worth creating a stink over, we didn't figure. We moved on...
So, little things like this have continued to happen during our time living here. We'll request some maintenance, he says he'll do it, and doesn't. Or, if he does grant us some help he complains about how much of a money-sucker owning this building is and how much our neighbour (Lala is her name and she's as crazy as they come, but there's not enough room in the library for her story) is out to ruin him (which she is). We just tune him out and say nothing. He never trims the hedges, he never cleans the garbage/compost bins, and he left a piece of shit 1990 Mercury Linx to rot in our back parking lot taking up precious visitor space. We just made things work on our own, negotiating with our neighbours to squeeze another car in somewhere. He never waters the lawn or shovels the pathways of snow until he's legally summoned to do so (you see, Lala's crazy does come in handy sometimes - she calls the cops a lot), and even after Luke was SUMMONED TO COURT to testify in one of their crazy legal battles, we still did not see it necessary to be rude to him.
This summer we managed to scrape together enough money to buy a condo, and we gave sixty days notice. The landlord said we were his best tenants, and he'd be sad to see us go. "You just never know who you're going to get renting the space, and you guys never gave me any trouble, unlike SOME people", he lamented, gesturing to Lala's apartment window. He was totally right; we never gave him so much as a raised voice after he ignored and neglected our needs (and rights if you want to get technical) as tenants. We were the perfect doormats. I felt kind of satisfied that we managed to get through our time here without earning a bad reputation with him, considering he's such a spiteful, angry person. It really was quite an accomplishment. I just smiled and took his compliment, not mentioning how we were not only excited to be buying a condo, but we were thrilled to be leaving his sure-to-be-imminently-condemned building. I just didn't see the need to stir the pot.
So, a few days after we give our notice, a fire gets lit under our landlord's ass and he decides to get to work on the building. He junks the tire-less pile of rusting metal out back, he trims all the hedges AND the huge maple tree outside our window. He reroutes the eavestrough to actually drain water AWAY from the building, lays new sod, sets up a sprinkler to water the lawn every other day, maintains the garbage alcove, replaces the cracked windows around the front door, paints the exterior window trim of each unit, paints lines to indicate parking spot perimeters.... oh god the list goes on and on. He didn't do an EFFING thing for two and a half years while we've been here, and now he decides that in order to rent out the apartment again he'd better get on with it. I've been livid. I feel so screwed and taken advantage of. He never gives us any notice that he's going to be working on the building, even when he's drilling into the brick wall that is the exterior of my son's bedroom WHILE HE'S NAPPING, or puts his ladder up to our living room and starts painting the trim, WHILE I'M SITTING THERE IN MY UNDERWEAR!!" After three days of drilling during naptime (and during a difficult personal time for our family, I'll add), I had finally had enough, and worked up the courage to confront him.
I marched downstairs and actually gave him a piece of my mind. I was so proud of myself! I told him how frustrated I was at his complete disregard for our living through his improvements, that it was rude to not give me some notice that his work would be inconveniencing us. I told him that his drilling had awakened my son early from his nap two days in a row, and that brick dust had come in through the windows and was now my responsibility to clean up. I rationally explained that if he were to simply give me some notice, I would be able to shift my son's naptime a bit, or close the windows(!), or leave for the afternoon, or GET DRESSED. I appealed to what little sense of common courtesy I hoped he might have, but he didn't seem terribly moved. He apologized that day, but the intrusions have continued. In response I've stopped being nice to him. No wait, I've not even been that bold. I've simply stopped engaging him in pleasant conversation. I walk by him without smiling. I know what you're thinking... slow down with your bad self, Katelyn! How will he be able to take your passive aggression without crumbling in a puddle of tears and regret?
Well, somehow he manages just fine. He has continued to piss me off and I've continued to do nothing (except of course, to berate him in my head, coming up with the perfect rhetoric to render him truly sorry).
So, yesterday I brought my garbage down to the bins outside, ignoring him while he puttered around the yard. As I headed back inside, I heard, "Hey, I need that window put in!" I thought nothing of it, assuming he was commanding his nephew (and spineless minion) around like always. Then, "EXCUSE ME!! I need that window put back in." Shocked to realize that he was addressing me with that tone and not a 3 year old, I turned around. He continued to blather on about how he needs the interior window - that we unscrewed to allow for proper airflow when we moved in TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO!! - to be replaced RIGHT NOW. I explained that I'd get Luke to do that when he got home after work, as I was busy with my son, but that wasn't good enough. He said he'd just come in and do it himself (oh no he wouldn't!). I told him I didn't know where Luke had put the window (a lie, I knew it was in the hall closet) and shrugged casually. He just kept repeating, "well I need it in. I'm doing trim work and I need it put back." I started to wonder if he may have Asperger's; his behaviour was so bizarre and uncivilized, as though he just got let out of a cave and was asked to interact with socialized people. There was no "please", no "would you mind...?", no "sorry to inconvenience you, but... ". It wasn't reasonable. He wanted the window in right then, not a moment later. For what reason, I've still got no idea - he certainly couldn't/wouldn't explain it to me. Maybe he wasn't dealing with our previous confrontation as well as I thought. SCORE ONE FOR KATELYN'S POWERFUL RHETORIC (except that it resulted in this onslaught, so I'll take that point back). So, after being blustered for as long as I could stand, I said, "Fine! I'll go find your precious window right now!!" I stormed off and let the door slam behind me. I huffed and puffed while I re-installed the window, making sure to loudly mutter near the open screen, "Sorry, son, I can't feed you right now, I have to put in this super-important window.""Sorry, son, I can't change that rancid poopy diaper until I finish putting in this totally-necessary-to-outside-trim-work window!""Oh, you want to read a story? Can't do it!! What the landlord wants, the landlord must get RIGHT NOW!! AFTER ALL, HE'S ALWAYS BEEN SO ACCOMMODATING FOR US!!" When I finished I stomped downstairs to take more garbage outside, brushing past him haughtily, daring him to mess with me again (with my eyes, of course, who do you think I am John McEnroe?).
As you can see, I still haven't gotten over it. I hate being bullied, and I especially hate being bullied when I've bent over backwards trying to be understanding and patient with this guy, with the naive hope that it would earn me better treatment than others get from him. I feel like a sucker, and that's probably what's actually making this whole tirade take shape more than his actual ass-hat behaviour... I just hate it when I give someone the benefit of the doubt and they trample all over me. I'm a grade A sucker. Supreme SUCKER when it comes to knowing when enough is enough. It has to change. So maybe some good has come from this after all. Maybe I'll try harder to stand up for myself when something isn't right, even if it makes me unpopular. It'll be hard for me, as I clearly have a pathological need to be liked, but could it really be harder than biting my tongue all the time? I no longer think so. It remains to be seen, though, if I'll truly use this experience as a propeller for growth, or just leave it here as a long-ass bitch-fest.
So, now we just bide our time until we can get the heck out of here. We've taken possession of our new condo this week, and it's all we can do not to just move in this weekend and deal with the renos we've got planned for later. But no. We must do the sensible thing and put flooring in BEFORE moving all the furniture in, no matter how antsy we are to leave our current place. I have half a mind to warn the new tenants of what they're in for - to try and dissuade them from getting their hopes up and being suckers like we've been, but I'm sure I'd just come off as crazy. Afterall, when Lala first knocked on our door intent on getting us to join her in suing the pants off of the landlord for a mold issue in the basement, I thought she was just being dramatic (turns out I was right, but that's besides the point...). These new tenants will just have to learn for themselves, like we did, that our landlord is a complete prick and there is no reasoning with him. And all I can do now is try and move on... again. Fortunately, I think writing this post has helped me on my way.
Not saying I won't still leave the oven and bathtub a filthy mess for him to have to clean after we're gone.... ;)
