Dear Liz the Landlord,
Hey!
I'd like to say it's been a while since I've seen/heard from you, but alas, I think we both know that is not the case.
What you don't realize is that Mr. Rose and I lived in our last place for over 5 years and basically needed our next door neighbor to wield a semi-automatic weapon before we heard from our landlord. So you can imagine how irritating it is to have you all up in our shit.
It began when you asked to tour the house for the first time in years. You live 20 minutes away and you apparently had never asked to visit the place. I assumed you wanted to make sure we were up to snuff or whatever you country folk do. Just a reminder: The previous tenant wanted to abandon their lease in December, but you said No, I assume because you're a bad planner, and poor with logical decisions? Because either way, two months later, you wanted to come and tour the house.
I, like a total jackass spiffed the place up and tried to convince you, not only that I wanted to live here and that we would take care of it, but that this house was basically ZION. With the Northern Flickers in the trees in the back and the amazing neighbors with real live chickens and the proximity to Bidwell park. What the hell were ya thinkin' not living here??
I take comfort in the fact that you and your husband both stepped in dog doo-doo as you inspected the back yard. Sorry! But it's true! Because a few weeks later we heard from the management company that you wanted to move back in the house, and you wanted to move back in ASAP. Woe unto us that we took over someone else's lease when we moved in, so technically, the longest we could hold you out was June.
You couldn't just let us sulk in the fact that we had sorted through and moved our hoarded lives just four months earlier. No. You began scheduling all sorts of appointments and appraisals to get the place to what you want it to be. First the Tree Guy.
I guess what you'll never know, unless you Google "BAD LANDORD, CHICO, LIZ, ENDED LEASE EARLY, KILLER OF TREES" is that after you left, and after we came back from the breakfast we planned to avoid you, the tree guy was still here - and he was cool! Guess what else? He let us on to your flakey ways. Whats up with cutting down two of the three trees in the front yard? And what's up with scheduling all kinds of extensive work with the nice independent (sort of cute?) tree-scaping guy and then cancelling at the last minute due to lack of fundage? Maybe if you're broke, you should leave the trees alone and focus on cutting down other expenses. You know what I'm saying?
But who are we? We've just been paying your mortgage for the past few months.
Anyways, Funny that you scheduled all sorts of tree work for the Tree Guy on a Friday and once again, I assume you canceled, because no one showed up.
But hey! Why would that stop you from bringing in the paint guy! Perhaps there was a re-prioritization that took place? So you showed up with the paint guy one day. Knocked on our door to say "hey" as though we do not hate you with a bitter passion.
That was two weeks ago.
So when the property management place called us last week to say that you really wanted us to mow your lawn, we basically told them to tell you to go fuck yourself.
Some people might say that it is a sad day when all of the passive aggressiveness that two competitive people can collectively combine culminates in the ill maintenance of a lawn. But I beg to differ. This overgrown lawn we have attached to your home (a home which, incidentally, is wicked cold all the time. Poor insulation job in the remodel? Thought so.) Anyways, this lawn? It's basically our last stronghold. And we're going to do everything we can to ensure that the lasting legacy of this home during our time, on this tiny cul-de-sac, is one of slovenly white folks who are very nearly considering doing away with the grass as a whole and replacing with astro-turf. Does it pain me to be represented with a crappy yard? Yes, it does. Do I feel a deep satisfaction in the fact that in this one instance, there is nothing NOTHING you can do to freakin make me? HELL TO THE FUCKIN YA.
So you can imagine the elation we felt when you had the property management place call back to say that Didn't you leave a lawn mower in the garage? And if not, couldn't we just borrow one from the neighbor? Because our answer was, You are totally right. We will totally mow this lawn.
At 11:59:59pmPST on the very last night of our lease.
Thanks so much for the suggestion!
Smooches,
Schumanator
PS. 'Member that issue where our washing machine was draining every last ounce of water from each load into the garage instead of into the pipes? Still happening. Spider Problems? You got 'em sister. G'Luck!
