Wednesday, September 10, 2008

A Final Un-Neighborly Note

My landlords, who live about three hours away on the other side of the Divide, came to the building today, in part to apologize profusely to me for the unauthorized showing and for the apparent theft of my laundry money, and to tell me that they had fired the listing agent because she was given my lease and contact information way back in June and, in addition, was apparently a royal bee-yotch to them when they called her after getting my angry message.

They also said they're going to pay me back for the missing money. So there's that.

But more than anything, they came to deal with the aftermath of Mr. Absentia and Glub.

And wow. What an aftermath.

Warning: reading one part of this may make you physically sick. That's what happened to me when I found out Mr. Absentia and Glub were not only jackasses, they were evil.

One of my landlords was nearly in tears when she said in only two months they had completely destroyed the place. I surmised as much, but I wasn't expecting her to say "they left everything. Their kitchen stuff. Their furniture. Their checkbooks."

Checkbooks? That's kinda weird.

But it makes sick sense when you hear what she said next (this is the part that made me nauseous):

"They not only left their kitchen appliances, they left them plugged in and turned on."

Yes. Turned on, including a coffeemaker with an empty pot. Turned on and left that way for nearly two weeks.

I guess it's a testament to the quality of their appliances that nothing caught fire, but I am sick to think that for nearly a fortnight, as I slept, left Wiley alone for hours while I was at work and went on with my life, there was a massive fire hazard above my head.

My first thought was that idiot Glub must have been in charge of turning things off, but then I realized something... if you wanted to burn a place down and make it look like you didn't mean to, why not leave things like your checkbook?

That's right. I think those scum-sucking bastards intentionally set a fire trap assuming the place would burn down and somehow cover their thick-legged tracks.

That's when I got really sick to my stomach.

My landlords said they're going to pursue them for the rent, for the damages and so on. Good luck. Who leaves behind a checkbook unless it's a fake or stolen identity? I'm just sayin'. Both of them moved to Colorado about the time I did. They didn't have any friends or family in the area. I wouldn't be surprised if "Chris" and "Danny," as they called themselves, are grifters. At least "Chris," aka Mr. Absentia. I don't think Danny is capable of anything other than figuring out where his next meal/cigarette is coming from.

When I got home tonight, still a little quesy to think those worthless monsters had set a fire trap above my head, I saw all the stuff my landlords had removed. Pretty much an entire apartment of furniture and super-tacky art, crappy appliances and, ooh, look! some cookie cutters!

Yeah, I took the cookie cutters since they were sitting high on other stuff and not actually in the dumpster, though I may not keep them. As I was sanitizing them, I kept thinking over and over how they nearly burned down the apartment and could have killed Wiley (I feel pretty secure about me waking up and being able to get out if the smoke detector went off, and to take Wiley and my laptop with me, but what if he was home alone when the fire broke out??).

Then I fretted about "Chris" being an IT guy for one of the local resorts (not the one I work at, thankfully). I've been using a Verizon WiFi card on my laptop to do all my banking. What if he hacked into it and has stolen my identity and ruined my credit?

I know it's a long shot and I sound kind of paranoid, but I'd rather be a nutball than someone with ruined credit. I'm calling my bank tomorrow morning to see what they suggest I do.

Of course, I'm also worried about their dogs. I know it may sound stupid, but if they had so little regard for possible loss of life setting a fire trap in a fully-occupied apartment building (well, occupied except for their unit), how can they possibly treat their animals humanely?

I'll probably toss the cookie cutters so that I'm not reminded of those two khoi every time I use them. Or maybe I'll wind up keeping them... as a reminder to trust no one.

By the way, all the drama and stress of the past few days, from Wiley being sick to Mr. Absentia and Glub's attempted arson, have led me to the conclusion that Fortuna is waaaaaay too interested in my life right now. So I'm going to lay low and not post for a while and hopefully slip off her radar, because the difference between a pit bull and a hockey mom and Fortuna is that Fortuna devours the other two whole and spits out the bones with a grin, you know?

Since I don't want to end on a down note, check out this awesome Cake Wrecks blog my homey Laura sent me. And no, none of my stuff is on there!


Virgo Sis said...

And they say living in the big city is scary. I'm glad you didn't know this much about them while they were there. But it makes fodder for the next book, no?

Dr. Virago said...

Laura beat me to sending you the Cake Wrecks blog, but I'm glad it cheered you up if only momentarily.

Man, what evil f-ing bastards. Seriously scary stuff!

You can get free credit reports from the three majors agencies -- Equifax is one of them, but I can't recall the others' names at the moment. Look up Equifax (online, or call their 800 number) and they'll probably tell you the others.

Sleepingbanshee said...

The plague on their house! I hope they get their sorry arses thrown in jail. or prison. or hell!

re: cake wrecks. love that blog. you really have to wonder how someone can actually WRITE "Under Neat That..." Don't they check? Don't they wonder...hmmm...this makes NO SENSE?! But if they did all that, we wouldn't be able to make fun of them.

tommy said...

Oh, see, now you HAVE to keep the cookie cutters. Stay with me for a second...

I once acquired a sharpening steel that was found in a fishing tackle box which had been left next to a dumpster outside a friend's condo complex. In addition to random kitchen tools in the box, were rolled up dollar bills and very tiny ziploc baggies, some of which retained a powdery white residue. Had the box been left out there in haste by someone leaving town in a hurry? Or had the owner been himself stuffed into the dumpster, and the box carelessly left behind by the perps? Who knows and who cares? Every time I hone my santoku, I know that this mundane task was made possible by the misfortune of some (likely rotting) coke-addled sous or line cook cum dealer.

Those cookie cutters, like my steel, have some mighty fine backstory of their own. Your cookies will taste so much better as you witness the horrified looks on your guests' faces when you tell them how their cookies came to be shaped...