Locked Out

I've been having some issues with the managers of my apartment. Last year everything was just peachy. We got along. We were buddies. We had a water heater break, and got it replaced within twenty four hours. We made suggestions for repairs and they were considered respectfully and often honored. Things were good.

Then new people came in and old people moved out and now we don't get on so well. I was charged a ridiculous amount for a cleaning check that I did do. We were told that someone came in to clean our apartment for us, but that was a complete lie. I was treated like a petulant child and grew very annoyed at said managers. You'll have to forgive me: in the five years I've lived in BYU housing I have never once failed a cleaning check or turned in rent late. Ever. So this was especially irksome, even though after this year I won't be in BYU housing and it won't matter.

But, ah, revenge is occasionally sweet.

Recently we had a new lock installed on our door. One of the fancy-shmancy key pad-like ones. Ours has a little key pad and a knob that you manually turn that will lock or unlock the place. Apparently it's for increased security. And, if that's what they're going for, then it works, since most of the time you can't unlock the darn thing. Something inside the mechanismals of the keypad doesn't catch the lock. Very frustrating.

We called our managers about this the day the thing was installed. They sent someone to fix it. They blamed the locksmith. We called the locksmith. They came, and blamed it on the door. We called the managers again. They came and blamed it on the locksmith. They said they would call the locksmith.

Essentially, both teams have washed their hands of us, and we still can't get in.

So another problem crops up: our vacuum breaks. They come to collect said broken vacuum to "fix" it. Several days later, they call and complain to us that they tried to return the vacuum but could not get in our apartment because they couldn't unlock the darn thing.

We did not feel bad.

We then left a message with them in return expressing our sorrow that they, too, had not been able to open the darn door. We then expressed our concern that they wouldn't be able to get into our apartment for our soon to be returning cleaning check season.

Ooooh, how I adore irony. Especially when it is at the expense of people who deserve to be on the bad end of it.