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Abstract

but he pushed my buttons. I was polite, but I felt like I was telling a 5-year-old off.I entered his number in my phone as "Pierre Arsehole." That described him perfectly.I had so many issues moving into my new apartment because of him. He continued to be obstructive, condescending, and trite. I thought he was on crack; he was hyperactive and always snorting. He behaved like a wasp hovering around wine and was abrupt and (still) rude.I was already pissed at having to move; my landlord for the previous eight years had pulled the rug from underneath me and tossed me out of the beautiful old duplex I'd rented. She claimed her daughter wanted to move in; it's the only way the rental tribunal will allow landlords to evict tenants.I was so gobsmacked that when she told me the news face-to-face, I'd burst into tears. I was devastated. I was planning to move to Australia for a year of sabbatical to be closer to my Dad. My boys were going to stay in the duplex with a couple of flatmates. I was in the midst of setting everything up.She ruined my dream.Now throw in this arsehole when I was already on edge. I was enchanted with the previous rental agent, yet now not only horrified but worried. Was this the right move? Was my luck finally going to run out? Everything had always fallen into place since I left my husband. This dude was fighting me on my first month's rent, garage, and storage space. He gave me one key for my apartment and succumbed to giving me his garage door opener only after several minutes of whining.How the f**k was I going to park my car if I couldn’t open the bloody garage door?Fast forward two years. Covid hit two months after I moved into my apartment. Oh boy, am I glad that I didn't go ahead with my sabbatical plans! I'd be stuck on the other side of the world and not able to get back to see my kids with all the border closures. I could well have been out of a job there, and here, as well.As much a

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s I'm still upset with my old landlord for tossing me out, she saved my arse. If I'd gone to Australia, I'd have been royally screwed.Hindsight is a wonderful thing.Two years later, Pierre is no longer such an arsehole. We are not friends by any stretch of the imagination, but he has been kind to me of late. Not sure whether it's because I pay my rent on time when he's dealing with some pretty crazy people who live in my building or whether he's just mellowed.He listened to my rant about the a-holes who drop their weights continuously in the gym that is directly below my apartment. He’s moved the equipment to have less impact and has put signs up alerting the heavyweights to be more considerate. He negotiated a reasonable rent increase instead of the ridiculous one the building owner was asking for.Still, I think manners and respect go a long way. I don't give a shit if you're rich and famous, in a position of authority, or a wannabe. Rudeness and lowliness are unnecessary in any circumstance and at any time. No one is holier than thou. First impressions last; as much as we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover it’s human nature to do so.Do you ever think that this world could be a better place if we were just a little more respectful? We're all busy. We all have our highs and lows. But when we engage with strangers in any capacity — and especially in a professional one — we must be kind and diplomatic. We don't know what's going on in anyone else's world.I've forgiven Pierre because I saw how stressed he was dealing with his new job here. He's just another 'landlord.' I was just another tenant.I don't trust him, but I've learned how to navigate him. Now it's a case of 'better the devil I know than the one I don't.'This is the second story for <a href="undefined">Ellie Jacobson</a>’s Freewriting Friday prompt. Hmm…! Thanks, Ellie. You sure got my fingers to the keyboard and the memories whirling.</article></body>

WRITING PROMPT| IF I COULD FIRE SOMEONE

If I Could Fire Someone, It Would Be My Landlord

Well, I wanted to, but he did save face

The not-so-wonderful thing about living in an apartment building is that a huge conglomerate owns it, and they don't give a shit — apart from the rent being paid and you 'somewhat' obey the rules.

I say 'somewhat' because I see so many other tenants breaking the rules all the time that now — after 2 years here — I have the opinion if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

But, getting back to my landlord — or should I say, building administrator…

I had signed my lease in December 2020 and was unaware that the building was for sale. I had paid a month's rent in advance and was told to reach out with the details of my moving date to secure the elevator. I called the rental agent two weeks before my moving date, only to be told (politely, I may add) that the building had been sold and he could not help me anymore.

He gave me the number of the new administrator, and I called him right away.

Well, the first conversation we had did not go down well. I had left a message when my call went to his voicemail and when he called me back, almost instantaneously, he was incredibly rude. So rude, I stopped him mid verbose, nasty diatribe and told him off. I had apparently interrupted him in a meeting, and yet he called me, and hadn't listened to the voicemail!

This was not a good start. I never do that, but he pushed my buttons. I was polite, but I felt like I was telling a 5-year-old off.

I entered his number in my phone as "Pierre Arsehole." That described him perfectly.

I had so many issues moving into my new apartment because of him. He continued to be obstructive, condescending, and trite. I thought he was on crack; he was hyperactive and always snorting. He behaved like a wasp hovering around wine and was abrupt and (still) rude.

I was already pissed at having to move; my landlord for the previous eight years had pulled the rug from underneath me and tossed me out of the beautiful old duplex I'd rented. She claimed her daughter wanted to move in; it's the only way the rental tribunal will allow landlords to evict tenants.

I was so gobsmacked that when she told me the news face-to-face, I'd burst into tears. I was devastated. I was planning to move to Australia for a year of sabbatical to be closer to my Dad. My boys were going to stay in the duplex with a couple of flatmates. I was in the midst of setting everything up.

She ruined my dream.

Now throw in this arsehole when I was already on edge. I was enchanted with the previous rental agent, yet now not only horrified but worried. Was this the right move? Was my luck finally going to run out? Everything had always fallen into place since I left my husband. This dude was fighting me on my first month's rent, garage, and storage space. He gave me one key for my apartment and succumbed to giving me his garage door opener only after several minutes of whining.

How the f**k was I going to park my car if I couldn’t open the bloody garage door?

Fast forward two years. Covid hit two months after I moved into my apartment. Oh boy, am I glad that I didn't go ahead with my sabbatical plans! I'd be stuck on the other side of the world and not able to get back to see my kids with all the border closures. I could well have been out of a job there, and here, as well.

As much as I'm still upset with my old landlord for tossing me out, she saved my arse. If I'd gone to Australia, I'd have been royally screwed.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Two years later, Pierre is no longer such an arsehole. We are not friends by any stretch of the imagination, but he has been kind to me of late. Not sure whether it's because I pay my rent on time when he's dealing with some pretty crazy people who live in my building or whether he's just mellowed.

He listened to my rant about the a-holes who drop their weights continuously in the gym that is directly below my apartment. He’s moved the equipment to have less impact and has put signs up alerting the heavyweights to be more considerate. He negotiated a reasonable rent increase instead of the ridiculous one the building owner was asking for.

Still, I think manners and respect go a long way. I don't give a shit if you're rich and famous, in a position of authority, or a wannabe. Rudeness and lowliness are unnecessary in any circumstance and at any time. No one is holier than thou. First impressions last; as much as we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover it’s human nature to do so.

Do you ever think that this world could be a better place if we were just a little more respectful? We're all busy. We all have our highs and lows. But when we engage with strangers in any capacity — and especially in a professional one — we must be kind and diplomatic. We don't know what's going on in anyone else's world.

I've forgiven Pierre because I saw how stressed he was dealing with his new job here. He's just another 'landlord.' I was just another tenant.

I don't trust him, but I've learned how to navigate him. Now it's a case of 'better the devil I know than the one I don't.'

This is the second story for Ellie Jacobson’s Freewriting Friday prompt. Hmm…! Thanks, Ellie. You sure got my fingers to the keyboard and the memories whirling.