Thursday, July 26, 2012

#51 Pigeon VIII - Pigeon's Emergency

*ring ring*
Hey, Pigeon.  What's up?
I need maintenance to come in here right now and fix my washer dryer!  I ain't got no clean undergarments!
I saw that you put in your maintenance request.  He has a few other things to deal with first. 
Well I need him to come now!  How am I supposed to go around with no clean undergarments.  I ain't done laundry for a week!
Maintenance is working on a bigger issue right now, and we don't consider your washer/dryer not working an emergency, so he'll be around to fix it tomorrow. 
What do you mean by that?  IT'S AN EMERGENCY!  Not having undergarments is an emergency.  How ain't that an emergency?
We have a laundry room downstairs.  You can use that if you really need to. 
Why I gotta use the laundry room if I gotta washer/dryer in my place?
For when your washer/dryer is broken and you have to do laundry.
I ain't going down there.  I ain't got not tokens. 
Tokens?  What are we, Chuck E. Cheese?
Is she referring to the New York Subway tokens from the 80's?
I'm sorry.  This is not an emergency, Pigeon.  (and at this point, I am just really annoyed with her) If someone's unit was flooding and water was going everywhere, and your washer isn't working, which do you think is an emergency?
Well this is an emergency to me!  I ain't never heard anyone say a washer/dryer not working is not an emergency.  (Has she heard anyone say that it is an emergency? I'm starting to believe she doesn't know what the meaning of emergency is.)
It's not.  Maintenance will be there tomorrow. 
I ain't gotta listen to this right now!
And hangs up on me.

This irritated me, but then it made me hopeful.  I thought maybe she'll think, "I ain't like how management is treatin' me.  I don't need this!  I'm moving!"
That is what I fantasize about.
The day before, I even went ahead and sent her a link to other buildings and neighborhoods to live in, because she won't shut up about transferring.  She wants what she can't have. I'm trying to convince her we just don't have it.
I even got teased the other day when she called me to tell me that someone from Park LaBrea (a totally different apartment complex in mid-city) might call me for a reference because she applied there.  My heart was so filled with joy, and I was just hoping and wishing that this person would call me, so I can give her a glowing reference and send her on her way.
They never did.
I knew they wouldn't. 
It's too good to be true.

She called me a few days ago about transferring to a penthouse.  I told her we don't have any available.  That very day, there was a suicide jumper nearby.  This guy committed suicide by jumping from his penthouse patio onto the street below.   I told her I had some shit to do and talk to people in the building about it.  (because that's an emergency) She asked, "What building is it?  How much it cost? Can I have it?"
No, bitch.  I'm sure it's out of your price range and also YOU'RE A HORRIBLE HUMAN BEING, PIGEON!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

#50 Shit Water and Dumb Cats

Is this another tale of me dealing with zombie shit?  Mostly, yes. 
I walked out of the alley door and hit a homeless guy that just pinched off a healthy turd.  He said 
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
in a "Hey, don't open the door, I'm shitting here, how dare you" sort of way.  Once I realized what he was doing, I responded with,
"Don't 'whoa whoa' me, motherfucker!  What the fuck do you think you're doing?  People live here.  You can't just go doing that!..."
In my rage of yelling at him, I didn't think to tell him to pick it up because I've picked it up all these other times.  I guess I've never caught one, so I didn't know what to do.
He runs away and I have to deal with this sloppy, nose burning pile of crap.

I just take a hose and start hosing it away.  Thinking I was doing this without having to go near it and physically picking it up.  WRONG MOVE.
While thinking I was hosing away the poop, I was actually spraying shit water into the hallway in the building.  I thought the door entrance was sealed that water wouldn't go in.  I was wrong.  I come to find out that the hallway is filled with brown shit water and it's stinking up the whole first floor.

So instead of cleaning it away, I created more of a mess.  I then spent the next hour mopping shit water and pouring bleach everywhere, which in turn, splashed all over my favorite jeans.

Now when I wear these jeans, I see the bleach splatters and get annoyed.  There's also a sense memory of that putrid shit.  We have no idea what homeless people eat.  Ugh god, I can't talk about this anymore. 
Moving on to a palate cleanser story that includes animals:

*ring ring*
(the voice is a gentle-sounding 45-year old man)
"Hey Mapple.  Can you go into my unit and check on my cat?"
"It's just that I usually see my cat before I leave for work, and I didn't see him, so I'm concerned that he got himself stuck in the kitchen cabinet.  If you can open the cabinet. I'll tip you for it."
"I'll do this, but I'm considering it a lockout, which is $20."
"TWENTY DOLLARS! Just open the door and check!  This is my cat we're talking about. If you can't find him in the house, then he's probably stuck in the cabinet. Besides, you're going to thank me because he is a beautiful cat.  You'll see.  You'll want to pay me to see this cat.  He's gorgeous."
"I'm actually allergic to cats, so I doubt that.  But fine, I'll go check."

I went to his place, opened the door, and a fucking cat was standing there staring at me.  I instantly rolled my eyes and shut the door.  It looked like a gray cat.  Clearly, it's a dumbass cat that gets stuck in the kitchen cabinets.  Maybe you should leave him there so he can learn his lesson.  He also never 'tipped' me for it.  I hate this motherfucker, and god, I hate cats. 
Copyright (c) 2010 being a building manager is awful. Design by WPThemes Expert

Blogger Templates and RegistryBooster.