Wednesday, January 16, 2013

So my landlord is a total asshole.

Remember how I hate my apartment complex? In case you have forgotten this fact, here it is again: I hate my apartment complex.

First, the buildings are ridiculously old and not at all updated with, you know, consistently working plumbing or any kind of insulation. Second, it's almost like they were just in a hurry to erect these buildings. None of the doors hang correctly, and all of the cabinets have this weird two-toned thing going on. Third, hahahaha maintenance? What's that? Some of the "fixes" in the two apartments we've had here are a little on the ... well, let's just say that I've found a distorted paper clip as a replacement chain inside our toilet. Fourth, the lack of storage here is depressing; we don't have enough space to store both our plates/glasses/eating utensils/etc. and our food. We don't have a lot of the former, either. This list really could go on forever.

As of right now, we pay $715 a month* for a one-bedroom apartment**. It's kind of a 1.5 bedroom apartment, actually, since there's this little extra room attached to the living area that has no vents for circulation in it. Oh, and no lights. So it's basically a giant closet with no places to hang things.
Yay for useless rooms!
I don't know where you live, but $715 for a shitty one-bedroom apartment here is on the crazy side of ridiculous. I could understand if these were luxury apartments, but alas, they are not. The cheap cabinetry and countertops alone should bring it down by at least $100. From what I've gathered, the Ace Management Team has decided that, since the complex is situated directly in the middle of Bellevue (low- to middle-income) and Belle Meade (old money), they'd rather forget that Bellevue exists and assume the identity of the wealthy part of town.
Bitch, please. You are less than a mile from the Iroquois***. Get your head out of your ass and prices these places reasonably. 
We got our renewal notice on our door last week and I laughed aloud at the notion. Three and I had already decided that we were going to find a different, less expensive place outside of Nashville, preferably a house. But then I read the terms of the new lease.

They were increasing our rent by $40. And that's without the pet rent.
Waitwaitwaitwaitwait, what?? You mean you expect us to pay nearly as much for our old two-bedroom apartment? You have got to be kidding me.

They were not.

Now, I know you're wondering, "When is she going to get to the part about her landlord being an asshole?" It's a convoluted story with many parts to it, but ultimately it culminated yesterday and has sent both Three and I into a frothy rage. One part is that over the past few months, I've seen a large number of people leaving the premises, all of whom happened to be of the lower-income and/or non-white crowd. I've been able to talk to a few of them before they departed, and one particularly sweet Indian woman said that she couldn't really afford the new rent and that the front office was making her feel unwanted. The latter is the general feel from a lot of our neighbors, many of whom are of Indian and Middle Eastern descent.

Another aspect is that they got rid of two people on their staff that were basically the face of the complex. We'll call them Dwayne and Debbie. Dwayne was the simple maintenance dude, who, while not the brightest bulb ever, was one of the kindest souls I've ever met. When we moved from our two-bedroom to the one-bedroom, he helped us move and was thrilled and thankful for all the shit we donated**** to his church's welfare program. I didn't know that Dwayne had been fired until I met the new jackass of a maintenance guy, whose only response was, "That retard got axed." True story. Debbie was the first front desk person Three and I met, and she was the one who was so incredibly thoughtful and helpful when we were having trouble paying our rent on time. Well, her bosses found out that she'd been working with people on rent payments and such and being generally awesome, so they forced her to retire. Now, they're fully staffed with dickheads.

Lastly, they've apparently started policing car appearances and stickering the less-than-pretty cars with "YOU ARE PARKED HERE ILLEGALLY" things, threatening to tow you. One girl's car got towed and was told that it "didn't fit the complex's decorum." As many of you know, we still have Chiquita, the poor, worn down crap-car that has a tire that constantly deflates (it's the rim or something, not the actual tire - trust, we've gotten it checked a million times). It's my emergency car; well, if that emergency can wait long enough for me to get out the pump and refill the tire from 0 to 35 psi. Three has the Lincoln to drive to and from work, and I don't usually take Chiquita on drives because I don't really want to. On days when it's rainy/cold or I'm just being lazy and don't want to walk two miles to go to Kroger, I whip out the pump, air the tire, and go on my merry way.

Anyway, I get a call from Three, asking if I can go double-check the parking lot***** because he wasn't sure if he remembered seeing Chiquita. It's cold and I had resolved to be pantsless all day, but he doesn't ever really ask me to do anything, so I'm all, "Okay, I'll call you back."

Sure enough, Chiquita was not there. But do you know what was? Two other cars that had been sitting in the same spot for way longer than Chiquita had. Chiquita has up to date tags and is driveable. There was no fucking excuse for them to tow her.
I don't use this gif enough. 
Three was livid. And I mean, livid. I haven't heard him this mad in a while. His voice gets very deep and very terse and every syllable is ve.ry.dis.tinct. It's that final straw that just made both of us ready to go grab a Uhaul and live out of a storage unit for a few months while we look for a new place to live. Our car is big enough to sleep in, and I'm pretty sure that my parents would have no problem watching Zola. Having a litter box in the car might be a little much, though. Febreeze?

However, the rub is that we didn't discover this until after the office had closed, so there wasn't anything we could do until today. But, as luck would have it, the asshole who had our car towed wasn't there. So we're going back tomorrow.

Updates will follow because seriously? If they don't fucking bring my car back and offer their firstborn as an offering, my wrath will not be contained.

* This includes water and pet rent. They charge us $35 a month for water, which ... what? Seriously? There's no way we use that much each month. We don't even have a fucking washer! And pet rent is fucking stupid. There. I said it.
** It was a downgrade during our bankruptcy because hahaha who knew that we could not afford a nearly $800 rent on one income?? We could have moved to another place, sure, but that was a pretty huge expenditure (deposits, transfer fees, etc.). We figured that we could just go to a smaller unit for the remainder of our lease, but it turned out that they lied to us and forced us to sign a lease for a full year. At the time, it didn't really bother me since we kinda liked living there at the time, even with the little idiosyncratic issues that were constantly popping up. Now, it's just one more addition to the "Why I Hate My Apartment Complex" list.
*** The Iroquois is where people who have been rejected for other apartments in the Bellevue area can go get an apartment. They're cheaply priced and are terrifying. Like, seriously, I feel safer walking in the projects than I do driving past the Iroquois. It's known for drug-related violence and plenty of police raids.
**** We were lazy basically. There were things we just didn't feel like moving/selling/etc. But somebody got a TV, a set of dishes, and a nice couch, so there's that.
***** We moved the car to the overflow parking area to avoid getting towed, which is what they fucking told us to do in the first place.
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