Thursday, December 22, 2011

#38 The Boss

Since this is the last post of 2011, let's make it worthwhile.  I have yet to really talk about my boss.

My boss sucks.

I don't mean the various amounts of people I have to deal with at the head office, but the main guy that is boss of everyone and owns the buildings.  He's vaguely foreign, has a thick, questionable accent, glosses over words and speaks really fast so he sounds more fluent.  It's really weird.

He's a one percenter that just doesn't get it. For instance, the evening after the Tenant Appreciation Party, he has a housewarming party and invites all of us lowly workers.  It's a fancy house in the Hollywood Hills, and for you guys that don't know, homes in hills are ridiculous for various reasons: extremely steep, narrow, and windy roads, nowhere to park, everyone has a giant window that looks out to the whole city or the very least, the Sunset Strip, it's very developed, yet there's still coyotes that run around and kidnap rich people's rat dogs...I could go on.
Anyway, I begrudgingly go to this housewarming party.  His house looks nice from the outside.  Then you walk up to the door, and who is greeting you but a life-sized steampunk statue of The Predator made out of scrap metal.
...on the porch, atop the steps...seriously.
It just gets worse.  The inside looks like a cheesy European club with purple lights, zebra stripes everywhere, picture frames with the original stock photo still in it, black toilets (which you never know if it's dirty or clean).  It's the prime example of when rich people have too much money and no taste. 
The boss is so clueless to invite his employees to a party, where the point is to show off his riches and his wife's shoe closet. Meanwhile, we get paid dick and have no health insurance.  He has a mashed potato martini bar (no shit) and bartenders, so my plan was to eat all his stupid fancy food and drink a lot, then steal something out of sheer principle and irritation.

My boss is also sexist.  He only hires women because, I believe, it looks nice for him to have a harem of pretty girls running his buildings, and he, the figurehead is the only man that takes care of us all.  He also has to make sure we all have boyfriends or husbands, so someone else can live there and pay the bills. The boss gives me the bullshit claim that tenants are less likely to get into confrontation and fights with a female manager than a male one.  Sure thing.  

On another occasion, my leasing agent, Charlotte, told our boss she got engaged.  As a wedding gift, he offered her the grand event hall for her wedding location.  She was so happy about it because that saves thousands of dollars on a wedding venue.  Then he told her she can only have it if she gets married in three months.  Which she sort of considered.  It's not a lot of time if you plan on a lavish wedding, but if the venue is free, might as well.  Then he straight took back his offer after a few weeks because he realized he can probably make money off of someone else renting it on whatever day she never chose. 

In general, when it comes to the things I need for the building or a raise, he usually says no because he's a cheap motherfucker. He also made me pay a full security deposit for my unit. Oh that's right, I gave him $1800 to start the job.

UUUuarrrarrghghghghajajraaaaahhhh fuck that guy, right?

Happy Holidays, gang!  See you next year.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

#37 Parents

The majority of the babies that dwell in my building are modern, working adults ages 25-40.  I have a very low percentage of students that live here, but with the noise issues, parties and general mess they make, it would seem like I run a dorm.
I have three sets of Greek roommates (not fraternity Greeks, like phyllo-feta-European-debt-crisis Greek) that go to USC.  I get complaints from their neighbors below saying they jump rope at 3AM.
Mostly, though, I have FIDM girls.  FIDM is The Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising.  It is a few blocks away.  Since it's only kind of a real university, they don't have dorms.  Some of them come to my building, where they'll jam four of themselves into a tiny two-bedroom.  All of the time, mommy and daddy take care of the bill.
Since the parents handle the money, I have to deal with the parents on various occasions:
  • A mother walks in my office "I just moved my daughter into #210, and I have a few concerns to address before I fly back to Georgia. Is there a vent for the air conditioner or is it just going to blow down on her bed, because she gets very cold.  Can the lights in front of the building be brighter? Why does she only have hot water but no cold water?"
    "I understand your concern.  Since this is a loft building and the central A/C isn't build in the walls, the air just blows, she can get her own vent if she wants to install it.  The light issue is not with the building, it's with the city. For some reason, that unit only gets hot water.  We will work on it."
    She left with the most defeated and disappointed look on her Paula Deen-esque face. Sorry, lady.
  • A girl's parents paid for her rent six months in advance.  This girl has this crappy, burnout boyfriend that is clearly just mooching off her.  Since he lives for free, he has to pay for parking, which is $150 each month.  I get a voicemail from this guy's mom: "Hello, I'm Alex's mom, and my son needs to pay for parking.  I will pay for this month, so can you please tell me how much money I should put in his account?  Text me back, as I get bad reception here in Vegas." I text her back about how much he owes.  I get a text back that says "I am puttng money in your accnt this month, for the rest of the time, young man, I do NOT want to hear about the consequnces if you get towed. Do you umberstand me? Learn to be responsible.Then..."I apologize for that.  That was to go to my son, not to you. I'm very sorry." The mom-tone still comes across in text form.
  • "Hello, I'm Sarah's mom. I need to pay for parking underground for my daughter because downtown is just so unsafe."
    "Well, that's $200 a month for garage parking."
    "How can I get her to break her lease?  I just don't want her living downtown.  We're from Scottsdale, Arizona and she's not used to the danger. I bought her pepper spray."
    Not used to danger?  Suburban moms are so scared of the city and driving on freeways. 
  • "Hi, I'm Jillian's dad.  My daughter got beat up by a homeless person in the street and now she doesn't want to live downtown anymore, and she's going to finish her school at FIDM in San Francisco."
    "What happened to her, is she okay?"
    "She's fine.  A homeless woman thought Jillian said something to her, and she pushed her and then started hitting her.  Anyway, I want to pay for her part of the rent for the rest of the time, as her roommates are still going to stay in the unit. this is valid, I guess.  How weak is Jillian, though? Homeless zombie females are not strong.  They are usually cracked out, super skinny and frail.   I'm kind of amazed that no one did anything, however, no one wants to actually touch a zombie.  Although, I think the story is exaggerated, as the zombie probably didn't beat her up, but maybe weakly slapped her a few times and it took poor Jillian by surprise.  It's probably the closest thing to a fight she's ever been in. 
Basically, parents are freaked out that their 19-year old daughter would live in downtown LA, but they aren't concerned about spending a stupid amount of money on a trade school, where their daughters will face a sad future of only knowing the world of fashion, and having no other discernible skills in life?  Okay, mom and dad. Get your priorities straight.

    Friday, December 9, 2011

    #36 Tenant "Appreciation" "Party"

    My company owns the building next door, where the first and second floor was the grand lobby of Bank of America back in the olden days.  It has been turned into an event hall where it is rented to people who hold swank parties, lavish weddings, and various filmings.
    My boss decided to hold a Holiday Tenant Appreciation Party for all the tenants of all five of his buildings. I actually thought it was a nice idea.  Around 500 people showed up.  What enticed people to come was the promise of free food, booze and a "free rent lottery". 
    Here I am, dreading this stupid party because as much as I like eating and drinking on someone else's dime, I have to make nicey with the idiots.

    Since I don't have a dress code with this job, I usually look like total shit.  (for instance, I'm wearing workout clothes right now.  Will I work out? Who knows.)  When I put makeup on, it's for an audition.  I'm sure when people from the building see me dressed well, they must think I'm going to court.
    What I'm saying is that I normally look like a Kathy cartoon.
    I get all gussied up for this party with the full intention of getting straight hammered.  I talk to the various tenants I actually like, harass the caterers to bring more shrimp my way, and pour Amstel Light down my throat.
    There is a stage where a band (one of the tenants) plays, the rent lottery was announced (where right after, half the crowd left) and it's also where my boss wanted to thank everyone for coming.  I did not know this was happening.  He proceeds to call all of us managers and leasing agents up.  My leasing agent Charlotte slunk out awhile ago.  Smart.
    Of course, no one knows how to talk into a mic, and no one can hear anything.  In my drunken stupor, I decide to take charge since I was the only one that knows how to use a mic on stage. I yank the mic from my boss' hand while saying "Give it" and proceed with this:

    "Hello everybody, I'm Mapple from the building next door.  Where are you people that live in next door?  I know you're out there."  I hear various parts of the room clap and woot.
    "Great.  Well, guys, thanks for being here.  I hope you're having a good time..." and since I didn't know I was even going up there, I didn't have anything prepared, so I just said:
    "...I don't know what I'm doing up here.  I've got nothing.  Should I do some stand-up?"
    "Ok, sure.  Guys, what's the deal with beer, right?"
    Here's a fact:  I don't have a standup routine, nor do I do any standup.  I'm just an attention hogging actor with a mic.  I had a beer in my hand and that was the only thing I could think to say.  I was really amused with myself, however, but since I had no punchline, I just said:
    "I'm kidding, take this mic away from me."
    And then the boss is so confused, and he takes the mic, says something inaudible, and puts it on the stand.  I asked "Is that it?" and he shrugged and said, "Yeah, I guess."
    The audience is just standing there watching us, so I just yell back into the mic, "Ok, cool, guys.  That's it. Party on!"

    Ok, cool, guys.  That's it.  Party on.

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