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Aug. 20th, 2003 08:32 amI had the day off work yesterday, which, unfortunately, I needed in order to do other work - which I didn't even finish yet. Let me explain the situation. I was subletting this summer at a place about a mile away. It was my understanding that I needed to be completely moved out by Wednesday, when the guy was to come back. I hated living in his place all summer. He left all his shit there, so I had no shelf space for mine, and his roommates were assholes to me. Nevertheless, I didn't want him to think I was some kind of bitch, so the plan was to spend Tuesday, my day off, cleaning his place really well, then I'd buy him flowers and leave a note that said "Thanks for the place" or something like that. Instead, this is what happened: On Monday, while at work, I get a call on my cell phone. I was up on Massanutten with Matt doing a show. I answered it because I had just tried to call down to the store but had gotten a busy signal and figured they might be trying me back. It was Clark, the guy sublessor. I was like, "Hi," all cheerful and shit, cause I'd just made a huge sale. But then I was like, "I can't talk, Clark, I'm at work." He's all like, "No, I need to talk to you. It'll only take a minute." Umm, ok. Well he then starts yelling at me about the condition of his room. It was a mess because I had NO SHELF OR CLOSET SPACE ALL SUMMER. I had already moved out my essential stuff, so it really looked like a train wreck. But that wasn't supposed to be a problem. No one was supposed to see that ever. I apologized profusely to Clark, because I really did feel bad. He changed his temper, but was still very condescending. I told him I'd be there in two hours to get everything. He asked if it was okay if he moved it into the living room. Really, it wasn't, because they have that dog who likes to hump and chew, but I said okay because he was really upset. His tone made me cry. I don't think he realized that. I was at work, trying to schmooze the tourists, and that boy made me cry. Man. Well, thinking about what had just transpired, I started to cry some more. Matt had never seen this softer side of me, and I think it made him really nervous. He really is a nice guy, though - the rest of the afternoon was devoted to penis jokes to cheer me up.
I called Jer and sent him to Clark's to start getting stuff and told him I'd be there after work. He told me on the phone that Clark had just thrown my shit into bags, WITH TRASH. He'd put cups WITH WATER IN THEM into trash bags with my clothes, jewelry, and textbooks. Jeremy's bibles were in there too. Then Clark's all, "I'm not being an ass, but...." That's right. You're not being an ass, but you are one. I had really liked this guy, too, even if he did give me a raw deal on the apartment. (Back in February or March when I agreed to sublet, he promised me a month off of rent and only electric bills, but I've paid all the rent, electric bills, and a surprise monthly cable bill.) Plus the apartment, although decorated nicely, left me no place for my things, which was a problem because I was in summer school and therefore had even more things than usual. Bah. So anyway Zsa-Zsa came with me after I told him of the problem, which was SO nice of him, because it cut our loading time in half, and Zsa-Zsa really doesn't get along with Clark, so it was a big sacrifice on his part. Yay for the best roommate ever! (Tied with Jilly Taylor from England, who was also a spectacular roommate.)
We got all my stuff over here, but Clark had indeed mixed all the trash in with all of my stuff. He absolutely ruined lots of my clothes, posters, textbooks, other books, souvenirs from Australia, and my birthday pictures of the Diamondbacks and the New York trip. It took me all day yesterday to go through my stuff, rewash all the clothes he got dirty but didn't ruin, and throw out HIS TRASH that was mixed in with my stuff. Actually, a lot of his stuff was mixed in with mine. I told Zsa-Zsa that if he asks for it back, I'll make sure it's all broken and gooey, just like he packed it. (Actually, most of it is all broken and gooey. His own damn fault.)
Now get this, the reason he couldn't wait TWO FUCKING HOURS for me to come down the mountain and claim my shit, was because he was tired and really needed to crash. Well when I get there, he's gearing up for a party. He and Keith and some chick all went out, then they all went to Walmart with some other folks (we ran into them), and then I get a call from a non-crashing Clark at 11pm telling me I owe 81.50 on the last electric bill. Ha!
I'm waiting until I cool down about all this to address this issue, but the point is something like: "You'll get your 81.50 when I get replacement cash for all my shit you ruined, including a $150 pair of sunglasses, Jeremy's bibles, my textbooks, my clothes, my birthday pictures from the once in a lifetime experience of seeing Brandon Webb make his MLB debut only to go on to be one of the greatest pitchers in the league, Randy Johnson single, and Steve Finley, Craig Counsell, etc., my souvenirs from Australia, and my silver earrings that I can't find - all in all, probably over $1000 in damages, not to mention sentimental items that can't be replaced. Also, what about the cable bill I wasn't supposed to have to pay, and the first month's rent? Asshole." But I don't like confrontation like this. I don't like treating other people that way, even when they REALLY DESERVE IT. I mean I can certainly talk shit about people behind their backs - but if they find out I'm still all apologetic, when I really shouldn't feel that way most of the time. Now Clark keeps calling me about the $81.50. He sounds all nice on the phone now, which makes it hard to be like "FUCK YOU," even though he's only being nice because he wants me to give him money that I don't owe. I don't think he knows where I live now, I've blocked him on IM, as well as his roommates, and if I never hear from him again I'll be a better person.
This experience really puts my new place into perspective. I mean, I knew my roommates were cool, but how many of your friends would venture to their enemies' territory on your behalf to do heavy lifting? Zsa-Zsa, you rock. Jeremy, too, because he didn't have to help either and he did:) I love you guys! I'm really looking forward to the coming year in this great apartment. Jonathan Teichman, a guy I used to work with first year, lives downstairs, so I'll get to hang out with him a good bit, too. Cool. Off to work now. Peace.
I called Jer and sent him to Clark's to start getting stuff and told him I'd be there after work. He told me on the phone that Clark had just thrown my shit into bags, WITH TRASH. He'd put cups WITH WATER IN THEM into trash bags with my clothes, jewelry, and textbooks. Jeremy's bibles were in there too. Then Clark's all, "I'm not being an ass, but...." That's right. You're not being an ass, but you are one. I had really liked this guy, too, even if he did give me a raw deal on the apartment. (Back in February or March when I agreed to sublet, he promised me a month off of rent and only electric bills, but I've paid all the rent, electric bills, and a surprise monthly cable bill.) Plus the apartment, although decorated nicely, left me no place for my things, which was a problem because I was in summer school and therefore had even more things than usual. Bah. So anyway Zsa-Zsa came with me after I told him of the problem, which was SO nice of him, because it cut our loading time in half, and Zsa-Zsa really doesn't get along with Clark, so it was a big sacrifice on his part. Yay for the best roommate ever! (Tied with Jilly Taylor from England, who was also a spectacular roommate.)
We got all my stuff over here, but Clark had indeed mixed all the trash in with all of my stuff. He absolutely ruined lots of my clothes, posters, textbooks, other books, souvenirs from Australia, and my birthday pictures of the Diamondbacks and the New York trip. It took me all day yesterday to go through my stuff, rewash all the clothes he got dirty but didn't ruin, and throw out HIS TRASH that was mixed in with my stuff. Actually, a lot of his stuff was mixed in with mine. I told Zsa-Zsa that if he asks for it back, I'll make sure it's all broken and gooey, just like he packed it. (Actually, most of it is all broken and gooey. His own damn fault.)
Now get this, the reason he couldn't wait TWO FUCKING HOURS for me to come down the mountain and claim my shit, was because he was tired and really needed to crash. Well when I get there, he's gearing up for a party. He and Keith and some chick all went out, then they all went to Walmart with some other folks (we ran into them), and then I get a call from a non-crashing Clark at 11pm telling me I owe 81.50 on the last electric bill. Ha!
I'm waiting until I cool down about all this to address this issue, but the point is something like: "You'll get your 81.50 when I get replacement cash for all my shit you ruined, including a $150 pair of sunglasses, Jeremy's bibles, my textbooks, my clothes, my birthday pictures from the once in a lifetime experience of seeing Brandon Webb make his MLB debut only to go on to be one of the greatest pitchers in the league, Randy Johnson single, and Steve Finley, Craig Counsell, etc., my souvenirs from Australia, and my silver earrings that I can't find - all in all, probably over $1000 in damages, not to mention sentimental items that can't be replaced. Also, what about the cable bill I wasn't supposed to have to pay, and the first month's rent? Asshole." But I don't like confrontation like this. I don't like treating other people that way, even when they REALLY DESERVE IT. I mean I can certainly talk shit about people behind their backs - but if they find out I'm still all apologetic, when I really shouldn't feel that way most of the time. Now Clark keeps calling me about the $81.50. He sounds all nice on the phone now, which makes it hard to be like "FUCK YOU," even though he's only being nice because he wants me to give him money that I don't owe. I don't think he knows where I live now, I've blocked him on IM, as well as his roommates, and if I never hear from him again I'll be a better person.
This experience really puts my new place into perspective. I mean, I knew my roommates were cool, but how many of your friends would venture to their enemies' territory on your behalf to do heavy lifting? Zsa-Zsa, you rock. Jeremy, too, because he didn't have to help either and he did:) I love you guys! I'm really looking forward to the coming year in this great apartment. Jonathan Teichman, a guy I used to work with first year, lives downstairs, so I'll get to hang out with him a good bit, too. Cool. Off to work now. Peace.
