Friday Shuffle - Oh-No-You-Don't Edition

Remember back a month ago when a contractor hired by my rental company came to my door an unexpectedly caught me with my hair up in curlers? Today I got a rather curt letter from my rental company regarding that situation.

I'd like to first say that when I'm just coming home from the supermarket is not a time for me to be reading curt letters from anyone. They tend to hack me off and everything I've bought begins to melt as I gnash my teeth over the letter's curtness.

The letter said that the contractor who was here to change the meter on the heater in the kitchen reported to my rental company that I had refused him access to my kitchen. Now that's just a pile of crap. I didn't refuse him access - I told him I didn't have a heater in there and so he had no need to go in there. Now if he'd said "Can I come in and see that you have no heater in your kitchen?" I'd have let him stroll right on in but he didn't say that. And I'm so sorry that I didn't suggest that he stroll on into my kitchen but what I was wearing and not wearing at the moment was affecting my decision making - I was wearing curling but not wearing a bra at the time. I also don't tend to negotiate well when I'm trying to conduct a conversation while trying to hide the bulk of my body behind the door.

The curt letter went on to say that the contractor did say that I'd told him that I didn't have a heater in the kitchen (which makes me want to know why he did the whole thing about me refusing him access) but now the rental company is very concerned over that. Their records indicate that I should have a heater in the kitchen and that it should have merely been relocated.

And that's when I really started getting pissed. Screw those frozen vegetables waiting on me - I was too mad to worry about them at this point.

I specifically asked the rental manager when I first took this apartment if I could have the heater removed until I moved out at which time I'd have it put back. I had to have the heater removed so I could get my kitchen installed. I asked that it be in writing so that I wouldn't later be given a ration of shit about it. I even used their suggested heating and plumbing company and paid for it to be done so I'd be all compliant with their wishes instead of me using a heating and plumbing guy I know who would have done it for free. If I'd gotten their permission to remove the heater and I'd gotten it in writing and I'd done it in the manner requested then why did I receive a letter that was the written equivalent of a 14 year old girl who's had her cell phone taken away for a week?

The letter went on to say that I needed to either let them see the bill from where I had the heater removed or let them change the meter or they'd just end up billing me for heating my kitchen an average of other kitchen meters in my building. Now maybe I'm wrong but the entire thing sounds like I'm being blamed for me not having a heater in my kitchen and I'm somehow being penalized for it. At the very least being chided. The whole tone of the letter rubbed me the wrong way and I know at least some of it stemmed from my memory of the contractor acting like a pissant because I told him I never received a letter saying they were coming to change the meters in the kitchen. I understand the man couldn't actually possibly know this but at least weekly I get mail for a neighbor shoved into my mail slot. My letter being delivered to the wrong slot and not making itself back to me is not out of the realm of possibility.

I will freely admit that I am not the most organized person but I did know where the letter was that said I had permission to remove the heater and the bill for its removal should be there as well. I went to the folder where I have my rental contract. Let's see - rental contract, permission to own a dog, bill for the new curtains...aha! Letter giving permission to remove the kitchen heater. And no bill for its removal.

At this point my frozen groceries were fast on their way to becoming thawed mush so I stopped to put things away and that's when all of God's sweet angels took pity upon me and I remembered where the bill in question might be. The bill had been mailed to us at our old apartment and when I was packing I'd taken a whole pile of recently paid bills, stuffed them into Ziploc bags, marked them "semi-important papers" and when we unpacked I never did anything more with that bag than shove them into a drawer in the living room cabinet.

And there it was, just where I thought it would be. I'd even marked what day I'd paid the bill on the envelope. Not that the bill said all that much. The only thing on the bill was a charge for labor and a charge for transportation - it didn't say on the bill anything as to the nature of the work.

Now it was time to call the apartment manager and ask her just what bug had crawled up her ass and died that had prompted her to write me this curt little note. B claimed that would be an inappropriate question so he'd be the one to make the phone call. Kill joy.

I should say that the apartment manager we had when we moved in and who was the one to give me permission in regard to the heater isn't the one we have now. Maybe our current apartment manager just didn't have a full grasp on the situation since she wasn't initially involved. Or a bug had crawled up her ass and died.

B got the manager on the phone and she sounded rather listless until B made clear who he was and as to what situation he was calling. She perked up right away then - likely all happy to slash and claw us to pieces because we didn't have a heater in our kitchen. And because I'd had the audacity to answer the door braless and with curlers.

The manager had found in our file a copy of the letter that we had giving us permission in regards to the heater. The sticking point was one word - "change". We'd asked to remove the heater so our kitchen cabinets would fit. The old manager wrote in "change" but she knew fully well what we wanted to do considering I'd said the word "remove" to her about 50 times and she told me to put the heater in our basement storage area. The new manager interpreted "change" to mean "relocate", meaning the heater would be put in a different part of the room. We need to pause and consider something here. My kitchen is so tiny that you can't cuss a cat in it without getting a hair in your mouth. There was no other place to locate that heater other than where it was. The only alternative was removal.

Back and forth debate ensued regarding the real meaning of "change" in this circumstance until the apartment manager said "If we only had the work order from the heating and plumbing company." *sigh* Yes. If only.

Well what do you know. Attached to the bill was the work order I'd given and signed when I'd gone to that company requesting the work. And there it was in all it's glory. "Remove kitchen heater".

Heh. Dixie 1, Bug-Up-Butt, 0.

Time to shuffle.

1. Intervention - Arcade Fire
2. Operator (That's Not How It Feels) - Jim Croce
3. Run Runaway - Slade
4. Casino Royale - Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass
5. Apple Tree - Wolfmother
6. At Seventeen - Janis Ian
7. American Pie - Don McLean
8. Ocean Front Property - George Strait
   
9. Good Lovin' - The Rascals
10. Cigarettes & Alcohol - Oasis

Have a great weekend. Don't let anyone get something over on you.