#27 I Love Lesbian Couples

And no, I don't mean that in an ignorant straight guy way.  Lesbian couples are THE BEST tenants, and this is solely based on my statistics of annoyances.
Here's the rundown of the types of babies that live here (and I'm guessing...everywhere):

• Single Men
• Single Women (including Single Moms)
• Young Straight Couples
• Married Straight Couples (with or without children)
• Gay Men Couples
• Lesbian Women Couples
• Girl Roommates
• Boy Roommates
• Mixed Gender Platonic Roommates
• Fashion Students

There are many other categories within each category, but let's not get in that.  It would be too long, and I'll probably get angry having to think about these babies. 
Each and every single one of these categories has given me issues in one way or another with the exception of Monogamous Lesbian Couples.
These women always pay their rent on time, never call me with stupid bullshit, usually have the coolest units, don't cause noise disturbances, are very cordial to me in the halls, etc. The only issue I've ever had was when the cops were called because there was some domestic dispute, but I didn't have to get involved, so I don't give a shit.   There is even a couple that lives down the hall that I really want to be friends with because they look really cool, and seem to have interesting lives with a diverse group of friends.  I want to be a part of this clique.  I imagine it's like living in a Benetton world. I kind of wish we could only lease to lesbian couples, but (I guess) that's discriminatory.

Although, if my building became an all-female, anti-men utopia, then this blog wouldn't exist because I wouldn't have to face any of the issues that makes this place a goddamn nightmare.

The ideal lesbian couple

#26 Things That Occured This Week

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#25 More Elevator Signs

Here are some more elevator signs I recently posted to remind these assholes to pay rent.  (Note: there are sports references in this one. Just go with it.)

 I was feeling really uninspired, so I just recycled my most popular sign from the holidays.  It's been five months.  They're ready to see it again.  Plus, lots of new people have moved in since then, and they never got the pleasure of reading this sign, so...it's for them.  That's how I justify it. 

It says "Clip Art is Fun" under the picture, if you can't read that

I just felt like insulting them in the nicest way.  Did you get that?  What I really wanted to put was,"If you pay late, you are a huge pain in my ass, and I fucking hate you." That's too vague, huh?
It was also the NBA Finals, so I had to represent in the corner.
Some asshole baby saw me in my Mavs shirt and said, "so how long have you been a fake Mavs fan?...I don't know why everyone is hatin' on LeBron...We mingle in the same circles..."

1. Fake Mavs fan?  Fuck you.  Like I'm some bandwagon fan that just liked the Mavs because I hate Lebron.  Like I just went out and bought this shirt.  As if I can even purchase a vintage green Dirk shirt in the streets of LA.  Unless the Dallas Mavericks are called the Los Angeles Lakers, you can't buy a fucking Mavs shirt when you live a few blocks from the Staples Center. 
2. "Mingle in the same circles"...oh, cool.  The guy that said this to me is an actor. He is most known for his work in a recent remake of a John Waters musical where John Travolta is a tranny.  (He's actually very nice, but fuck him for the sake of this isolated argument.)  Okay, so you're friends with people that are friends with LeBron.  I don't give a shit, because...
3. I hate LeBron James.  Although, I do want to enroll in his School for Flopping (Zing!). 

There are a lot of people in the film industry that live in my building, so this was like a wink and nod to them.  I wrote this in the way a script is written out (from what I've read of scripts).  You can't see it as well, but the baby's lines are highlighted.
I was really looking forward to acting this out in the elevator with someone.  I did once, and it so happened to be another actor.
Now that I've heard it acted out, it's not very good.  Imagine if this was actual dialogue in a TV show.  I might as well be writing for this season's True Blood.  (Double Zing!  I'll be here all night. Tip your waitresses, everybody.)

#24 Gym Conversation

Preface: I am writing this on the eve of my 30th birthday, in which I am in a state of moderate depression,  looking back at how my 20's went; contemplative about youth in general. 

Entry: We have a gym in the building.  It's a standard, no frills gym with your usual machines, weights, and a two-person wooden sauna.  It sounds fancy and Euro, right?  It's not.  It's just a hot box.  I hate being up there when other tenants are in there. Usually, I'm trying to work out, and they're just complaining to me about general and personal shit.  There's also those awkward non-verbal acknowledgements and small talk about working out. I hate it.

The last time I went to workout, there was someone in the sauna singing R&B... and not well.  I thought "that's embarrassing" and got on the elliptical.  A minute in, this guy comes out of the sauna (in street clothing, not gym attire) and asks me,
"Hey, do you know about music?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Can you listen to me sing this and tell me what you think of the lyrics? I gotta turn this song in tomorrow to Trey Songz's producer.  He said it's gonna be a hit."
And he starts to sing this R&B song that he's reading from a crumbled up piece of paper. I can't understand a word he's saying, but from what I can tell, it's the standard, terrible slow-jam rhetoric about sex.  After he's done singing, he stares at me, waiting for a response.  I ask to see his lyrics.

Now in my hand is this notebook paper of chicken scratch and spelling errors of a song titled "Beautiful Romance":
"I'm gon put your hed on a pillow...make you look rite like a bow tie...you gonna be mine..." the usual affair.  I actually give this dude real criticism:
"You know, the subject isn't anything special, and the guy is basically saying he wants to have sex with this girl, and is that the beautiful romance?  Are you going to hand this to him, because you should type it and present it well.  Also, "right like a bow tie," what does that even mean?  Is it because you are trying to rhyme with a word that sounds like "tie"?  You should rethink that..."
"Yeah, you're right, I want to make people think..."
He then goes on and on about how he's a song-writer, a producer, a dancer, developing a vodka where the bottle turns into a bong, and 'working on' owning a few casinos.  He also said he's writing a script, and that he's an actor.
"Oh, I'm an actor, too.  I am the manager of this building, so I don't have to pay rent and which allows me to be an actor."
"Oh yeah?  What are you in? I don't live in this building. I live in the building down the street. I come to this gym because it's quieter than my gym, and it lets me concentrate."
"How do you get in here if you don't live here?"
"Do you know Jewel Arms?  He's my friend that lets me in.  I also don't have to pay rent either.  It's because I live with my mom.  I'm 16."

By now, 15 minutes have gone by.  (I know this since I'm on a timed elliptical.)  For 15 minutes, I've been talking to a 16 year old like a fucking adult.  I just thought he was stupid, turns out, he's stupid because he's an idiot teenager.  The moment he tells me his age, I switch into a different mode:
"You gotta finish school, and go to college, kid!...What do you know about romance anyway?....Maybe you should start small like, aspire to buy a house before you buy a casino...save your money."
I continue telling this kid lessons of life, and by then an additional 15 minutes have gone by, and I've finished my cardio.  
Turns out, the best way to pass time while exercising is talking to a clueless, name-dropping 16 year old.

I have no idea who this is.

#23 Tammy the Tattletale

As I mentioned in the last post, my building is in the shape of a rectangle with half the units facing out and the other half facing in, where their view is looking through the windows of other units.  It's not a great view.  Sound travels and bounces against the walls in the interior court.  If a baby is talking by an open window, everyone with an open window can hear it.  It's especially annoying when people have parties.  I get babies crying about interior neighbor noise, as this is the mundane awfulness that I have to deal with on the daily.

There is a girl named Tammy that lives in the interior that has recently found out my email, and has decided to bitch about everything.  She's the one that complained about the smell of her neighbor below her that is grilling on his patio, and the smell and smoke of the grill goes into her unit.  She has become the building tattletale.  She's also found out when I get enough complaints about a baby and their noise, I have to slip them a warning and then fine them after a second offense. 
Tammy has taken it upon herself to be the interior unit police, emailing me at any point in time whenever she hears a noise that bothers her and telling me to fine them.  She's emailed me at all times, like 7pm to 2am, or whatever time she hears a disturbance.  Tammy has become oversensitive and obsessive with noise.  I found her on my floor the other day because she was investigating a noise she heard.  When speaking to her about it, her dog peed in the hall.
"I'll clean that" she says.  (I checked back a few minutes later, and she did).

Tammy isn't a bad person.  She's just irritating.  Here is a snippet from one of her long-winded emails:
"If this noise continues, I'm gonna need you to move us to an outer unit with the same square feet and same rent, because this is something that (not you) but the management failed to inform me before I signed the lease and expecting this to be a quality building, which it was until lately..."
Right, like that's how it works.  As if this is a hotel, and I accidentally put you in a smoking room.  It's not that easy, bitch.  I know I call them babies, but I can't tell grown ass adults how to live their lives. I can only reiterate rules.  She's been living here for over two years, not a peep from her before this month.    

I get it.  When something happens to you, you feel as if you should do something about it, but bitching to me is not the solution.  It just makes me hate you. You know what the solution is?  Get the fuck out of my face and move.  

This bitch is, like, 30.

 

#22 Shit

Well THIS just happened.

On Tuesdays, the resident manager next door has her day off, so I take her phone.  One of her babies calls me at 7:45pm to let her in because she got locked out.  She agreed to pay, so I get my keys and head to the sister building next door.

On my way out of my alley door, I see a homeless zombie with his pants down squatting against the trash room door, and just before I could say anything, he had a projectile shit on the door.
I am incredulous.
"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? WHY WOULD YOU JUST SHIT ON A BUILDING?  CAN'T YOU FIND A TREE?  WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?...."
It goes on, and all the while, he continues to shit his runny ass shit as it's hitting my building's trash room door and falling to the ground.  He was saying something to me in Spanish as a response or a rebuttal, but I couldn't understand him, so I just continued to berate him.
"GODDAMN IT.  GO AWAY.  WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE THIS BUILDING? WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?  I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN.  WHY ARE YOU STILL GOING?  STOP SHITTING!  I HATE YOU!"

I then run into the lobby to see if Naseem the security guard sees him on the camera and his response is,
"Oh, that happens all the time.  I just take a bucket and wash it away.  It's usually women homeless that do that against the building..."  He's so casual about it.

I walk back into the alley to go into the other building to let the next door baby in, and I see the remains of my interaction with the homeless man.  This image is now ingrained into my brain.  I thought about taking a picture for you guys, but I don't want to subject you to it.
I have ideas in my head about what I could have done to keep him from shitting, like push him over while he was in that position.  Then again, I would have probably caught a glimpse of his dirty homeless ass AS he was shitting and falling over, so maybe it was a good thing I didn't do that.

After I let the baby next door into her unit, I am still shocked and grossed out.  I head back out through the alley and Naseem has already rinsed it away.  It's not even his job, but he does it.  I go to his security desk to ask him how he did it so quickly, and when I get there, I see he's watching the security footage of me yelling at the homeless guy for entertainment.

I'm so disturbed.

I took this  picture with my camera phone of the security camera screen, so it's not the best quality, but you get the idea.  It looks like I'm trying to reason with him, but I didn't want to get too close to him.  I felt like I was right in front of his face, though.

#21 Non-Adventures (Annoyances) in Babysitting

This job sucks so much ass, that I can't even find the humor in it anymore.  It literally sucks the fucking life out of me where I feel numb, and anyone that's ever had a job they hated, you know what I'm talking about.  This post is a little disjointed, but these are all recent annoyances.

It was the beginning of the month, and the FIRST IS THE WORST.  It's the time where I have to deal with all the babies that moved out and assessing their units, and charging them, to which they get mad when I charge them.  What the fuck do you expect when you leave your place like a shit hole?
The first is also the time when I have to deal with counting, what seems like, thousands of checks.  Roommates are the worst when it comes to this because they give me multiple checks at different times.
For example, I have these babies that live in a tiny two bedroom, there's four of them, they are all students.  This is what their checks look like:

$422.25?  I don't even know how they came to figure this out amongst themselves.  I have to take the extra step of using a calculator.  Now the idea of simple arithmetic annoys me .  Go live in a fucking dorm.  Plus, I think they're trying to pull a fast one and short me a quarter.  That'll teach me. 
But really, who wouldn't want to use those Hello Kitty checks?
------------
Babies have also taken it upon themselves to throw shit out of their windows.  The building is shaped like a rectangle, and half of the units' windows face the interior, which is a view of their neighbor across the courtyard.  They've taken the liberty to act like it's Ancient Rome and just throw shit out of their windows into the patios of the people that live in the interior court.  It's mainly hundreds of cigarettes, but the list also includes drum sticks, tax documents, beer cans, someone's cat (granted, this cat probably leapt to it's death, but for the sake of this story, I'm going to saying someone threw a dead cat out a window).  Many a baby has bitched to me about not wanting to clean someone else's mess, and that I need to do it. (Fuck you, you entitled assholes) To which I just post a sign about how you shouldn't throw things out of your window.  I have to actually tell these motherfuckers to not litter.

Speaking of cats, the high class hooker move out.  She got 'laid off', which...using that wording, is very confusing.  How does one lose their job as a prostitute?  Does she get a severance?  I guess the opposite for her job is to get 'laid on'? Anyway, she left her place really clean, but it reeks of cat.  Ugh...cats.

Happy Anniversary, You Terrible Goddamn Job

This doesn't deserve a blog number.  I just want to mark this day as my one-year anniversary with this stupid place full of over-privileged babies.
It's not even a commemoration.  It's more marking the day you noticed you have a wart on your arm that you've been picking at for a year now.  You hate it, but you live with it...until the day you decide to burn the fucking place down, or..wait, what?  I meant freeze it off.  I'm sticking with wart references. 

It was either a burning building or a frozen wart, and that shit is gross, so I went with this photo. Seriously, google "Frozen Wart" and you will not be happy with your decision.

#21 Much Needed Vacation

I was on vacation in a tropical paradise, so I have not posted.  It was a much needed vacation.  (Allow me to turn into your dad for a moment; Gas is cheaper in Hawaii than it is in L.A.  It's a goddamn island, and it takes more effort to get gas there, yet it costs less than mainland Los Angeles? Ugh.)

Of course, this awful job would not allow me to transition into going on vacation easily.  It is a fully charged suck fest until the very last moment.

• Pigeon won't leave me alone because she is transferring units
• Bosh Bischer still parks in my building, so I had to hunt down his parking rent
• Some bitchy baby in an interior court unit was bitching about how she is going to call the fire marshall because she doesn't like her neighbor grilling as the smell gets into her place.  I told her that I don't bitch about the Chinese take-out place across the street that smells up my place when I open the window. 
• One tenant was out of town, and her hose busted on her patio, which flooded it, and leaked into the unit below.  

My shoes (on the table) got ruined, as my feet were underwater

It wasn't draining correctly, so there was a hole the size of an orange that I had to push all the water through, which spilled down into the alley.  It looked like this:

I was brooming water out for an hour

For the first day while I was on vacation, I kept hearing my baby monitor ringing.  I was so paranoid.  I had to remind myself that it was not in my possession, and I was on a fucking airplane. I needed to fucking relax.
It was a blissful four days, and then I come back to:

• Pigeon waking me up at 8am
• A bunch of emails from babies complaining about their neighbors being too loud 
• Jewel Arms complaining about how he scraped his truck in the garage because he's a terrible driver, like that shit is my fault
• I had an eviction the following morning, that also woke me up.  They were trying to move all their shit out before they got locked out, so their shit was all over the hallways.  This is also on the floor I live on.

Shit blocking the elevators

Shit blocking the stairwell.  Let's not leave all those Maxims, now.

Needless to say, I wasn't allowed to transition slowly back into this awful gig from vacation either.  It was more like a violent jolt back into this job.  I hate it so much.

#20 Pigeon III: More calls

So this JUST happened:

Pigeon: Mapple, you gotta tell that girl that lives down next to me to close her window.  She is walkin' 'round in a G-String.  It's a good thing the windows are too high for my son to see.  I got guests, and they all lookin' at that girl.
Me: Ok, I guess I can tell her to close her blinds when I see her
Pigeon: I know she gay.
Me: Oh?
Pigeon: Yeah, she got that girl living with her.
Me: I thought that was her roommate
Pigeon: No, that's her girlfriend.  I can hear them have sex all the time.  One of them is strappin' somethin' on.  

She's also developed into calling me for no reason.
Pigeon: Hey Mapple, you got some beautiful units up in this.
Me: Yeah, I guess. What are you talking about?
Pigeon: I saw that one you got vacant on the 10th floor.  It's bigger than mine, huh?
Me: No.  It's actually 200 square feet smaller than yours
Pigeon: Oh yeah?  It's got a nice view.
Me: Ok.  Is that it?
Pigeon: Yeah...

I decided to not answering her calls anymore because they are such a waste of time.  She tends to just talk and repeat.  She has no edit button.  I have saved this angry message she left.  This is verbatim:
"Mapple!  Can somebody call back, because all of a sudden  nobody ain't callin' my phone back when I leave messages in the leasing office and what not.  I need somebody to come up in here because the bathroom over flooded with water, and it got into the bedroom so I need the maintenance guy to come up here to mop...this morning...like ASAP.  Pigeon.  Bye."
She flooded her own bathroom, and wanted our maintenance dude to clean it up for her.  Fuck that.  I told him not to, but he did it anyway because he didn't want to hear her bitch.
I get that. 

#19 Security: Things Naseem Says

My favorite security guard, let's call him Naseem, is always full of stories.  He's the mid-afternoon/evening guard, and is the eyes and ears of this building.  He sits at the front desk and greets people, sees them come and go, chit-chats with them when they get their mail, helps them with anything...etc.  He's been here longer than I have, and knows the babies better.  When the babies cry to me, they are either complaining, want something, or are on their best behavior because they've done something wrong.   Naseem gets them for all the other times. 

Naseem: "Did you hear about that girl in 407?  That black girl with the hair?  She's a hooker.  I see her in the day, walk out in little shorts down the street and get picked up by cars.  She's prostituting...I know it."
Me: "You mean Jenny?  She's a student."
Naseem: "Yeah, but how she make money?  She's a street walker, that's how."

He also likes to show me things on the security camera.
"Look at this camera footage...you see that light speck?  That's a ghost.  I went into the basement, and I swear I saw a ghost.  Too many ghosts here!" 
"Did you see that guy letting his dog shit in the alley and not pick it up?  Watch this...look at me, you see me yelling at him, and he's cursing at me, but I make him pick it up. Stupid son-of-a-bitch."

Other things:

"Hey Mapple, did hear about Pearl in 115?  She prostitutes on the internet. These two ugly dudes came in asking for her, and I was suspicious, so I walked them to her door and she opens the door, sticks out her hand, they gave her money, and she let them in.  Those dudes were disgusting."

"That Pigeon...she beats her kid.  I know it.  That cute little kid.  I've heard him scream, "No, Mommy, don't!" and I feel really sorry for that poor kid.  She beats him, I KNOW it!  I bought him a Gameboy, he's a good kid"

"Hey, you know that Jeff in 1103?  He came up to me and asked me if could go to the hot tub area on the roof and watch him and his wife have sex.  He said his wife likes it when authority is watching.  I said no, that's sick, and the pool and hot tub area are closed at 10pm."

What's amusing is that he doesn't just tell this to me.  He'll tell anyone that walks by.  Naseem is like our building's gossip queen, know-it-all that works for the school 'zine, and thinks he'll grow up to be a journalist one day...but alas, he is a middle aged security guard in a stupid building full of assholes.

The Google Image search for "gossip" yields amusing stock photos

#18 Bosh Bischer is gone!

If you recall, the biggest asshole in my building is Bosh Bischer.  He left to go to Brazil for several months, and he came back in February.  He made his presence known when he came back because he called and emailed me every other day about transferring to a different unit.
I had to take the time to show him every unit I had or ones that were coming up, to have him haggle with me on each and every single one.

Me: You can't downgrade within your lease unless you find someone to replace you, and they have to sign a new lease
Bosh: Just do me a favor, baby.  Find someone for me.  
Me: No, the whole point is for you to do all the work, because I get nothing out of this helping you out.  
Bosh: Fine, I'll just upgrade.  This show I produced just got picked up by the Oprah channel.  I just got a check for $40,000.
Me: Okay, which one do you want to upgrade to?

Bosh: One of the penthouses

Me: I don't have a penthouse available
Bosh: How about that one on the 3rd floor, how much is it?
Me: It's $1950
Bosh: I'll take it if you can get it to me for $1695 and you paint the stairs red for me.
Me: No
---------------one week later--------------
Bosh: Hey Mapple, can you give me that unit on the 10th floor that I saw?
Me: No, it's a downgrade. You can't downgrade.
Bosh: Help me out, Mapple. We're friends!  I'm broke.  I can't afford my place anymore.
He says this shit, completely forgetting how he told me how much money he had a week prior.
Intolerable.

Bosh continues to text, email and call me non stop about transferring to a cheaper unit, and getting two other tenants involved, which end up not wanting to deal with him, and instead complain about him to me.  This bullshit goes on for two months.   It's all an unneeded pain in my ass.
--------------------
I get an email from one of my fellow resident managers in another one of our buildings:

Hi Mapple ,

Hope all is well.

So, Bosh Bischer wants to transfer into my PH10 here. It’s listed at $2000. He wants to see if he can rent it at $1800.

Let me know what you need from me.

Thanks, Natalie 

Holy Shit. All is well.  Bosh decides to just go to another one of our buildings!  This is one of the best emails I could ever receive.  

I think it's over, but, of course, it's not.  He is still downgrading, which is not allowed, so I have to set up a meeting for him to talk to my boss.   He annoys my boss so much, that the boss just lets him transfer over, without finding a replacement, but doesn't reduce the rent.  

This news, of course, makes me insanely happy to get this fucker out of my building.  Bosh, however, does not leave quietly. 

*ring ring*

Me: Hey, you need to sign your new lease

Bosh: Come up to my place

Me: No, I'm not there, and you should come to the office

I find myself on his floor doing other shit anyway, and I go to his place, he's not there.

Me: Where are you?  You said you'd be at your place

Bosh: I'm on the rooftop at the pool. Come up.

I'm so anxious to just get him the fuck out, so I meet him at the rooftop pool.  He's just lounging around, and I'm making him sign papers while he's sunning.  At this moment, I realize how much of a servant I look and feel like.  

Bosh: Hey, do you see my arms?  I've been working out.

Me: That's great, Bosh, just hurry up.

Bosh: Wait, this says 12-month, I just wanted a 6-month lease!

Then he proceeds to call my head office to bitch, and they said he can't have a 6 month lease.  This is taking up more annoying time.  Then one of my other tenants jumps in the pool.

Bosh: Who the fuck does this guy think he is?  Doesn't he see I'm signing papers?  What a dumbass...

Me: Bosh, just sign the fucking lease.  I have to go.

And after a few more minutes of trying to convince him to sign his lease, he finally signs it.  This, however, is not as blissful as I thought it would be, because by then, I was sweaty from being on the rooftop in a sweater, angry that he's wasted so much of my time, and I had to hurry to an audition.  

After all of this, this motherfucker is FINALLY gone from my building.  The witch is dead!

The other resident manager calls me:

Natalie: WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? TAKE HIM BACK!

Me: Now someone else understands the suffering I had to go through.  I'm free!

Natalie: I hate you.

Me: I know.  I'm sorry.  

Now I have another guy that has inherited the asshole crown.  He's four notches down on the asshole pole from Bosh, so it's not that bad.  More about that guy later. 

symbolism

#17 More Elevator Signs

I've gathered another three months of my ingenious signs for these ungrateful babies.  These are what they look like when they are new and nice, but after a day or two, they are either torn down, commented on, partially ripped, or penis'd.

I'll find some signs where someone will write a stupid comment, and then someone else will comment about how stupid their comment is.  I'm thinking about just covering the elevator in butcher paper and letting people draw all over it like at the tables of Macaroni Grill.  People would just steal the crayons, though.

 Some stupid girl wrote in stupid girl handwriting "<----Sucks!" next to The Smiths. Then someone else (I'm assuming a Smiths fan) ripped her commentary out of the sign.  I guess when you don't have a pen, you just rip the shit out.  On the plus side, none of the signs were torn down that month.

I only have a few children in the building, so I went to one of their places to ask them for a crayon.  I told her I'd bring it back.  I didn't.  I was pressing too hard and broke it.  I never returned it.  Sorry, little girl.

A comment someone wrote on one of these signs was "Just be yourself."  Like I hide behind these signs because I don't want to reveal my true self.  Right.  Thanks for that, bitch.

I had to really think about all the things I would do that did not involve breaking and entering, or seem like a threat.  Seriously, everything I thought of was physically violent or just illegal.  Examples being: meeting you in your living room with a baseball bat, holding your dog hostage, stealing your couch...etc.  The arm biting I figured was PG enough, and also could not be taken as a true threat.

#16 This Week

Let's go over what happened this past week that sucked my ass:

• I had to yell at the security company about the security guard that made me pick up human shit, so he would have less shifts because I hate him
• Some baby called me at 1am crying about how he was locked out, and didn't pay me.  Of course, for that, every time I see him, I will ask him about it and annoy him until he does pay me
• Pigeon called me five times this week for no reason, and then called the night security guard to tell him what she's making for dinner and chit-chat...which he then complained to me about
• I got a report from another useless security guard that said there was puke in the alley, I don't know why he needed to tell me that.  It's just a waste of paper.  
• Two out of the three babies I currently have in eviction tried to squirrel their way out of paying less, then yelled at me about what they're lawyers told them. 
• I had to collect rent, and argue with another asshole baby about how he refuses to pay until the 5th
• These new babies left a giant fridge in the hall, which I had to harp on them for it.  Why did they even bring it?  They know that a fridge was included.  I got so many complaints about it. 
• I had to use a Magic Eraser to rub off poorly drawn, but detailed, veiny penises with eyeballs, off a hallway wall near the gym
• A baby tried to make hush puppies, and instead caused a grease fire, which ended up looking like this:

Pretty gnarly, right?

The microwave actually still worked

He also melted his faucet in the sink.  This cost him $300 for us to fix and replace his shit

In my other life as an actor, I had three auditions.  I didn't book any of them, so this goddamn job continues.

#15 Bosh Bischer

This next tale is about another baby.  For anonymity's sake, we'll name him Bosh Bischer.  This is basically his name with a letter or two switched out (or is it a dude whose first name is really Bosh?).

Bosh Bischer is THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE IN THE WHOLE BUILDING.

With a building of over 400 people, that's an impressive feat.
He's a Hollywood agent type, like Ari Gold, but real, and not as charming.

First day he moves in:
Bosh "Look at this spot on the cabinet, I need it painted"
Mapple "You're being super nit-picky.  I don't even see what you're talking about."
Bosh "You want me to be nit-picky?  I'll be nit-picky!  The fridge is making a noise, there's a mark on the wall above the kitchen cabinet all the way up there, and there's a scratch on the floor. Give me a discount!"
Mapple "Dude, whatever, I'll talk to my maintenance guy about this.  And you just made that scratch on the floor with your couch."
I knew I was in for it from that day on.   
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He calls maintenance daily about little shit that doesn't matter.  They eventually got fed up with him, and told him if he needs something done, to fill out a maintenance request form.  After that, he would call saying it's an emergency, and his place was flooding.  It wasn't.  "That's the only way I can get you guys to come in here, if I say there's an emergency."
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Bosh had this giant bull mastiff, and instead of taking it outside, he would open up the stairwell, and let it just pee in the stairwell.  He swore up and down it wasn't him.  I even put up a sign that said:

STOP!
What are you doing?  Why would you even use these stairs on the 11th floor?  Is it to let your dog pee?  Please don't do it.

It's obvious you don't clean it up.  You are making the hall smell. 
This is all your fault.   It's teaching your dog a horrible lesson.

It  makes you a bad dog owner.

He then gave the dog away, and the peeing stopped.  Mystery solved.  

Another time, his other dog peed in the hall near the building's cleaning lady, and he said to her, "HEY! Clean that. It's your job." 

DICK.  

He's also the kind of person that doesn't pick up after his dog, nor does he keep it on a leash. 

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Bosh went away for two months, and he had his friend stay in his unit.  He told his friend that rent was way more than it really was, so he can make a profit from his friend.  His friend is also a literal pimp.  This pimp had one of his 'girls' stay with him. (She eventually got a unit of her own.) Amazingly, though, I much preferred the pimp.  He was a cool guy (a classy celebrity clientele pimp, not this kind of pimp), and I would rather have him as a tenant that Bosh. 
That was a blissful two months, with no calls, texts or emails from him. 

Then he comes back, and the shittiness ensues.
All this by just ONE person.  One terrible human being.

Only bad pet owners allow their dogs to act like this.  Also, hilarious photo, right?