Let me preface this by saying that in almost every way I enjoy my new apartment. That said, let's get on with the diatribe!
11:30am – Bored at work (the inbox ridiculously empty), I decide to take a half-day of personal time to run some errands and get stuff done at the new apartment. Seeing as how I haven’t really spent any time enjoying the new place, or even inhabiting it, this seems like a beautiful opportunity.
11:45am – Arrive at swanky grocery store and do some shopping for Dinner & Dexter. See delicious looking man in produce section, we follow each other throughout store and make delightful chit chat. Sadly amounts to nothing.
12:00pm – Knowing I will fight with deadbolt a minimum of 15 minutes, I leave everything in my car and attempt to unlock my apartment door before actually thinking I will be able to enter. Nothing doing.
12:15pm – Seriously, this is really starting to piss me off.
12:30pm – Call absentee landlord and tell him I am locked out of apartment. Call transcribed thus:
M: Hi, I can’t get the door open.
L (who lives in Chicago): Damn, I really don’t know what to say
M: Well…seeing as how it’s my only point of entry to my apartment…
L: Hm…Really? It worked before and then it just stopped working?
M: Oh, it’s never really worked in the true sense of the word. It’s definitely gotten progressively worse, and now it doesn’t work at all.*
L: Well, I’m going to call a couple of guys in the area and get back to you.
M takes up arms by way of snow shovel, and bravely hacks away at melting ice on driveway. Surprisingly this does naught to ease her tension and frustration. If only Grocery Store Guy were nearby.
12:53pm – M sees she has missed a call on her phone (how the heck that happened, we will never know). Voicemail from L:
L: I couldn’t get a hold of anyone, so I left messages telling them it was an emergency. Are you done with work for the day, or do you have other places to go?
M: Oh no, I’m done with work for the day.
L: Well, can you go kill an hour or so until I can get a hold of someone? It’s expensive for me to call a locksmith right away, so if I can’t get anyone over there by 4pm or so, then we’ll call a locksmith
M: Fine** (FU, I’d rather call a locksmith myself and send you the bill, thankyouverymuch)
M extremely pissed off at this point. That half day of personal time is burning a hole in her pocket so she returns to work, cancels the personal time, immediately does a Google search on how much locksmiths cost ($50-$200 depending on services needed), and continues to write scathing blog post that is neither mean-spirited nor scathing enough for her level of rage.
2:00pm – Unidentified Milwaukee number calls M’s phone
U: Hi, I’m at the apartment to check the lock?
M: Yeah, I went back to work.
U: Oh, do you know when the guys will be home?
M: 5pm? 5:30? Do you need me to come over there now? I can be there in 15 minutes.
U: Oh…no. I’ll just come back at 5pm or so and try to get this working for you. It worked fine when I installed it. Hm.
*Actual response not necessarily as verbose
**Never, ever means “fine” when coming from a woman. Ever.
That episode brings us to this blog post. I have a real bad feeling about not being at the apartment when Unidentified Handyman arrived – who knows if he will actually return? But damn if I was going to let a perfectly good ½ day of vacation go to waste when I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually show up before 4pm.
I got a twenty that says U.H. will have to call a locksmith anyway, and seeing as how I’m not returning to the apartment until 9pm tonight, I got another twenty that says I may be sleeping in my car tonight.
Milwaukee Housing strikes again.
Don’t move here. Ever.