Wednesday, May 20, 2015

It's wack-a-doodle Wednesday...Yes, I'm making that a thing.

I must have missed the memo that went out proclaiming today Wack-a-doodle day. There had to be one because otherwise the crazy people of the world have managed to coordinate themselves to an alarming degree without help, and that's a damned unsettling idea.




I work for a property management firm, and you might think this gives me some protection from the crazy. You would be wrong. While it is rare for me to have direct contact with these escapees from reality, I'm often the victim of secondary exposure. This happens when the crazy ones make the various apartment managers so confounded and confuddled that they call the main office seeking clarification and/or crisis counselling.

In the past twenty-four hours I have had the dubious honour of being verbally accosted in two languages by an angry tenant who failed to understand that they had violated a clause in their lease and they were being given an opportunity to fix the issue before we took further measures. Instead of fixing the problem, they went on the warpath. First they yelled at the on-site manager, and when that didn't work, they called the office.

We were wrong to do this. I was a liar. I was a harasser of innocent people. We were going to be sued. When it was over I got to write up an incident report. A good time was had by all.

A few hours ago, the manager of that same building called me again. (it seems to be her week.) Now, one of the tenants has reported a possible brothel in the building. 

How do they know this? Why, it's obvious!  By spending vast amounts of time observing the security camera footage at the front door of the building, this tenant knows when someone arrives at the building, and then goes to the front door of their suite to spy through the peephole and determine if the new guest arrives at the neighbour's door. There are simply too many people visiting the elderly neighbour for the complainant's liking, thus, it must be a brothel. 

Did I mention that both the complainant and the accused are over eighty? Just mull that over for a bit, I'll wait for you to get over the giggles. 

And while we're on the subject of sex, I should mention that we opened the outdoor pool at that same building this past weekend. We've now got a betting pool on how many days it will be before we have to send the season's first "stop having public orgies in the pool, please" letter. This pool is in the centre of a courtyard, surrounded by apartments on all sides (half of which are for residents over the age of 50). It's about as private as highway intersection during rush hour and has nearly perfect acoustics, but that doesn't stop some tenants from giving a public performance a few times a year. 

Given the way this day is going, I'm going to bet that tomorrow we'll be penning that first "cease and desist" letter. 

The funny thing is, if I tried to put this stuff into my books, no one would believe this sort of thing really happens. 





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