No, I don't mean in the 8th grade girl way where you tell the girl with the frizzy hair who can do math better than you that no one will ever love her.
I mean in the "get stuff done" way (see Tina Fey below)
Last year I had the landlords from hell. For you Madisonians, don't ever live in the Saxony. Ever.
Our problems started on day one. I was recently interviewed by the Cap Times about getting in trouble for letting my boyfriend and his roommate move their stuff in for a few days between the end of their old lease and start of their new one. Management told me because of my breach of contract, I wasn't allowed to use the elevator to move them out. I lived on the 8th floor.
Cap Times writer Kim Ukura wrote this about my experience:
When apartment management found out about the plan, one manager accused Wiatrak of breaking her contract by having extra people moved in their apartment.
"I told her I didn't have them move in; I just had guests for a few days with lots of stuff," Wiatrak says.
My bitchiness didn't end there. I later went off on the same manager about holding my package from Amazon with my class books in it for two weeks without letting me know, and after winter break, I moved back in with my new guinea pig, Penelope, I had fallen in love with and adopted from my sister even though pets weren't allowed.
Eventually, I got caught with the guinea pig on the surveillance camera (I know, who watches those tapes anyway?). I was immediately served with a pompous letter written in pseudo-lawyer jargon telling me to get rid of the pig or be evicted.
So, I begged. I told her how much the pig meant to me, I offered her money and I cried. Her response? That she could make an exception but she won't because she doesn't like me.
In other words, because I was a bitch.
With two months left on my lease, my very, very generous friend offered to take care of her until I moved out. It broke my heart, but I got through it. My friend took amazing care of her, I snuck her into the building on the weekends when management wasn't there, and when I moved into my new place, Penelope moved back in with me.
When I moved out of the Saxony, I made sure there was not a trace of the pig anywhere in the apartment. But during my walk through, psycho management told me she would not refund any of my deposit because Penelope had once lived there even after admitting our place was impeccably clean.
Eventually she figured out this was illegal and sent me my deposit anyway.
Even though I lost my guinea pig for a couple of months, I'm glad I stood up for myself when I did. I'm glad that I was a bitch, that I didn't lie down and take it just because she said she was in charge, and that I wasn't so nervous I couldn't speak up.
She once said to me, "I don't know who you are or where you come from that you think the rules don't apply to you."
I ignored her and continued begging to keep my pig, but I think that was the defining moment in our relationship. I never said the rules don't apply to me, but I was raised to question the ones that are just plain bullshit.
People who don't believe that will never make a difference. They will walk this earth as nobody's until they die and nobody remembers them.
Even if no one remembers me, at least I'll know I tried. And if at least one person calls me a bitch, I'll know I got somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment