Our dirt bikes bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right, they're better than yours.

Friday, January 06, 2006

The straw that broke my lease's back

Okay, so I'm in my apartment today getting ready. It's about 2pm, and I'm listening to music. It's nothing offensive—Death Cab for Cutie, in fact, and it isn't any louder than I've ever played music during the entire two years and eight months I've lived in this building. Suddenly, my power goes out, and then goes on again about ten seconds later. Thinking nothing of it, I turn my music back on and keep getting ready. About five minutes later my power goes out again, and this time stays out. "Shit," I think. "There go those eggs I was cooking for lunch. As well as my pretty hairdo." Then I notice something strange—the lights across the street are still on. Then, something even stranger: the lights in my hallway are still on. I'm in the process of trying to remember where my breaker is when someone knocks on my door. I answer it, waiting for an explanation from this man who is, presumably, the new landlord who moved in in August but who still hasn't made the effort to introduce himself to any of his tenants.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," he says. "I tried knocking on your door earlier, but your music was too loud."

"Oh, sorry," I say, waiting for him to add, "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know your power might be going on and off today because of [some sort of technical thing that might involve us having to turn off your power]."

"Okay, I'll go turn it back on now," he says, and takes off before I realize what just happened: that prick just turned off my power to alert me to the fact that my music was too loud. I appreciate the fact that I've been lucky to get no complaints the whole time I've lived here, and that it probably was too loud, and that I didn't hear him knocking, but a simple phone call would have sufficed. And maybe turning off my power would have been reasonable if this was the fifth time he'd complained and I'd ignored him every time, but no one's ever said a thing to me, and there are a lot of assholes on my floor who listen to much worse music than I do at least as loudly, so I'm sure they haven't ever had a complaint either. Plus, I pay for my own power! This isn't something that's been kindly worked into my rent, so he has absolutely no right randomly turning it off to make some sort of point. What if I had been working on something important on my computer or something? And my computer wasn't a laptop? What if I was hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine that I needed to live?

Seriously, though, if I didn't have a laptop and I had been working on my thesis or something and had lost three pages just because some asshole decided he has the right to turn off my power everytime he wants to get my attention, I would be, well, even madder than I am right now.

God, I wish I knew who owned this building so I could complain. I figure landlords have a series of rights and obligations (just like citizens in a democracy!), and if those obligations aren't being met (like, for example, cleaning up puke in the hallway less than three weeks after it appeared there), it's hard for them to exercise (or, worse, go beyond the limits of) their rights. This is what I'm paying $680 a month for? Maybe I should consider moving into Chris's place. I can handle the occasional toxic gas leak or hobo living in the laundry room, as long as the halls actually get cleaned every once in a while.

Anyway, blah blah blah. On the brighter side of things, I might have an interview with the Canadian Press's Prairie Bureau next week for a summer internship!

5 Comments:

Blogger Superdude said...

In other news, I brush my hair.

11:25 AM

 
Blogger Superdude said...

Also, the Canadian Press pays very well.

11:26 AM

 
Anonymous collin said...

Hey,
You should talk with Suzanne Beaubien (yes, her name means pretty good) about the internship. You may remember her. She had that job two summers ago. We covered boxing together, then she split for Canwest Newswire.
Let me know and I'll splash her digits your way. Booyah?
-CG

2:14 PM

 
Blogger enthrall said...

Hey - why not considering buying a downtown apartment? That way, you get all the pains of renting (death metal at 3am, unappetizing aromas in the halls and panhandlers threatening in the lobby) without any of the perks (a super who has to fix your leaking faucet, privacy and the "midnight move" to a better place).

I know of one that is going to come available soon...

C.

2:21 PM

 
Blogger Kristine said...

Splash splash, good sir.

(In other words, I would love to talk to Suzanne. Maybe send me her e-mail address if you have it, as I'd feel kind of weird calling some relative stranger up out of the blue. Because I'm the best journalist ever!)

3:52 PM

 

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