**ATTACK** of the Chronic Complainers

Several of my friends have been getting on me about writing a book based on stories they've heard from me, while working in the apartment industry. For now, I'll just blog about a few of them. 

Anyone that has ever had the pleasure of working in customer service, has most definitely had his/her fair share of dealing with some downright frightening-ass people. The apartment industry is really no different.

The following is an example of a letter that I sent to someone residing at one of the communities I've worked for. I've always called these types of letters "love letters,"or "nasty grahams." These letters are compiled for a variety of interesting and sometimes entertaining reasons; mostly because of a neighbor's complaint or issue.

Dear {Insert Name Here},

We are receiving complaints at our office regarding your pet.

One of your neighbors came to us this morning and indicated that you are keeping your dog on your balcony and that it urinated on the  head of the resident below you, on at least two different occasions. Our maintenance staff also noticed that there are several piles of dog excrement on your balcony, which this is extremely unsanitary. We have included photos for you to review.

We are asking that you please do not keep your pet on your balcony unattended. Please see the Pet Addendum portion of your lease agreement for information regarding pet privileges.

Further complaints of this nature will result in our asking you to remove the pet from the premises.

Sincerely,

Me

CC: Resident File: {I Find It Ridiculous That I Even Have To Address This} Pet Complaint

 

I wish I could say that people were not really this clueless, and at times, vile, and that I was making this stuff up for the purpose of my blog, but unfortunately, I’m not. I have sent out hundreds - maybe even thousands - of these types letters, ranging anywhere from from pet issues to domestic situations. Many people just don't know how to behave, and I'm stuck being the bad guy - simply because I'm doing my job. Trying to make everyone happy all of the time is hard work, and most of the time, impossible! I've had to call the police on people, both drunk and sober, and physical aggression is never ruled out.

I think the most awkward complaints would be addressing those pertaining to loud sexual encounters. Yikes. Hey, by the way, can you please keep it down when you are having sex at three in the morning? The neighbor below you is complaining that you are being really, really loud and you two weren't the ones that were "up all night," if you catch my drift.

My biggest disappointment in human interaction, though, is coming into contact with people who are blatantly rude. For no reason at all. Maybe they were picked on in school as a child, or maybe they weren't given enough hugs by daddy growing up, but it's especially difficult to experience "attitude" that is thrown in the faces of the people that are trying to help. I see it every single day. I see it at work. I see it in stores, checking out. I see it while commuting to and from work. I see it everywhere. It's senseless and diabolical!

Then comes the complaining. The increasing level of unwarranted complaining and whining that I have endured and/or witnessed over the years is actually mind-bending. Some people can and will complain about things that I would never even think to complain about. This is why there are so many frivolous lawsuits - because people can be petty and ridiculous.
 

I must say that my favorite instance of verbal, physical, and psychological abuse - while being forced to maintain **superior customer service** - would be while dealing with a woman named Alice.* 

Alice is quite frankly, the nastiest and most hateful woman that I have ever come into contact with, in my entire life. Alice was so mean and so rude, that I would literally have nightmares about the woman at night, and panic attacks while driving in to work. She always reminded me of that one mean person (neighbor, teacher, bully, etc) that everyone was scared to death of as a child, growing up. I've also referred to her as The Wicked Witch on more than one occasion.

 

Alice would speak to me like I was snotty two-year old, incapable of completing the simplest of tasks. She would stomp into the office wearing an evil scowl so frightening, that it would scare even the evilest of movie villains. Alice would bark out her demands, and then make me repeat them back to her - because, in her mind - I was I was completely and totally incompetent and ridiculous. She would stomp out, and slam the office door, practically shaking it clean off of its hinges.I  don't know, maybe she had some sort of vitamin deficiency.

Alice was also nice enough to continue to refer to me as “new management,” completely oblivious of my seven-year tenure with the company.

One Monday morning, I drove into work. As I pulled in, a car was already parked in our leasing parking lot, waiting for our office to open at 9:00 am.

Shit. It was Alice. My heart freaking stopped.

I gathered my things and got out of my car, and headed into the office. Alice followed me, practically walking on my ankles with each step of her stride. I was SO not ready for her, this early in the morning.

Alice was there to pick up her packages. OK, I thought. Easy enough. Deep breaths.

Her packages, for some reason, usually weighed around 150 lbs. I never understood what in the world she was always ordering that weighed so damn much. Judging be the decor on her balcony, her taste was very similar to what one would see in a funeral home. She was was probably here to pick up one on her funeral home flower arrangements or cast iron cemetery decorations. 

I looked for her packages but could find nothing, and my heart started really pounding when I had to break the news to her. This was a fate worse than death - and I was the unfortunate soul that had to inform her of the bad news. Why did this woman have this affect on me?

Usually, the driver for UPS will make his rounds around the property, drop off notices to the residents that weren't home, and then drop all of packages off at the leasing office afterwards.

Every now and again though, the driver will do his usual song and dance, head to the office, and then find that no one in the office to accept them.This would usually only happen if he attempted to deliver after hours or both of us (there are only two of us in the office) were on a tour or out on the property, during the really busy summer months.

After I gave Alice the bad news that her packages were not at the office, she actually had the audacity to accuse me of stealing her packages. What? Are you fucking kidding me? A federal offense, no less, but hey, I’m the dumb ass.

Alice then proceeded to PUSH ME (yes, apparently physical violence is now OK in the workplace) out of the way so that she could make her way to our copier to photocopy her UPS slip. I secretly snickered as she fumbled with the buttons on the machine, unable to figure out how to use it. You're so smart, I thought, YOU figure it out!

Frustrated, Alice eventually looked at me and screamed, Why the hell are you just standing there, copy this damn slip for me!!

Absolutely, I stated, while I aggressively snatched the slip from her cold, ridged, fingers. I copied the slip, as she continued to berate me and accuse me of stealing her packages.

I calmly - yet shakily - explained that the UPS driver probably still had her packages on the truck and would be delivering them today. Alice continued to scream, and eventually she threatened me, stating that if they didn't than, "I would most certainly pay."

Wow...

As expected, Alice's packages did arrive that day, and thankfully, maintenance happened to be in her apartment, working on some things when they arrived. They brought the packages in and placed them on her counter for her. When I called her and left her a voicemail to let her know - in addition to an email - she never responded to me, thanked me, or apologized. Nothing. But I was never expecting something like that from her anyway.

Luckily, Alice moved out about a year later. And like all of the other pain in the asses of the world, I never have to deal with her ever again.

Ya know, it really doesn't take any extra effort to be nice to someone, especially someone that you really don't know. It's actually really quite simple: treat others how you want to be treated. That's it!

I understand that everyone has their bad days, but that person - yes, that person who is trying to help you - might also be having a crappy day. It's time that we stick together, love each other, and support each other instead of constantly tearing one another down.

*Name has been changed.

 

 

Noise Pollution

I haven't written a blog in quite a while.

Actually, that's not entirely accurate. I've written several blogs over the course of the past twelve to fourteen months (twenty-one blogs to be exact) but I haven't published any of them. They sit in the "drafts" section of my Blogger account, waiting for me to do something with them. I think some of them are decent, but I also know that they're probably going to be controversial to some.

Millions of people across the country are astonishingly brave, especially when they get behind a keyboard. With that said, why do I have reservations regarding my own writing? Why should I care if I may or may not piss someone off? Everyone else lacks the common courtesy filter. Maybe I should look into that.

Most of the time, I bite my tongue when I know in my heart, I really should be speaking up. For instance, I was in the brand new Fort Thomas Panera (yuumm) a few weeks ago, when I witnessed a cranky older man absolutely laying into the two young girls behind the counter. Over coffee. Coffee. Since when did everyone become so disconnected and rude?

I almost spoke up...

If you're going to get nasty with people old man, how about you stay at home and make your own damn coffee?

But I didn't, dammit. There are many other scenarios where I probably should have opened my mouth, but didn't.The less confrontation, the better, right? Unless you're a blatant asshole, I probably won't call you out (as seen in my previous blogs). Or unless I've has a few beers.

Throughout my entire life, I feel as though I've been somewhat of a peacemaker. The type of person needing and wanting to make everyone around me feel as comfortable as possible. To make people laugh. To make them feel great about themselves.

Until now. Something in my mind has drastically shifted over the course of the last twelve months. Maybe it's the endless array of bullshit that I've been forced to endure time and time again. The constant battle to try to make my friends and family - and even complete strangers - happy. Happier than myself, even.

I'm getting to that point in my life where, I'm not biting my tongue any longer. Nothing in this life is safe or secure. Or nice. Or permanent. So stay tuned; this is just the prologue.

The Stench of Humanity

I have to wonder what the mental capacity must be with the world’s countless inhabitants. I’ve found that I either "see" people as either wildly amusing or jaw-droppingly dreadful. And before I go any further with this, I would like to clarify that I'm not talking about the people who have an occasional tongue slip and say something stupid (GOD knows that have I crammed my foot in my mouth A LOT), or even those irritating, highly opinionated people, because I'm irritating and highly opinionated. Actually, I admire the people who have a no-bullshit stance on life.

 

Like these people, if you want my honest opinion on a topic, I'll to give it to you, straight up. Call it a curse or call it a positive and/or redeeming quality, but it's the one quality that I’m actually proud to have: a no-bullshit persona. But now I'm getting off-topic. 

 

What I’m attempting to describe is so more that that. Unfortunately, there are people that, while the words are billowing from their mouths, I totally pull an Ally McBeal and begin to day-dream...I can't help but look at these poor people and think, how on earth have you managed to make it this far in life without either hurting yourself or getting your ass kicked, or both? Then the awe-factor sets in. People can be such buffoons! I must just have an extremely low tolerance for such a ridiculous level of douchebagery, which is why I could never be a lawyer.

There are various strains of idiot that have recently floated to the societal surface that I would like to tackle, head on. The first type is that the archetypal, haughty, self-promoting, pain in the ass, prima donna with an incredible ability to place him/her herself on the highest pedestal possible. For the purpose of this blog, I shall call this ridiculous individual, Perfect Polly. You've never heard Polly so much as whisper anything derogatory about herself. Come to think of it, you’ve probably never heard Polly tell a joke about herself. That teensy, tiny little joke might somehow paint her in a negative light and bruise her ginormous ego. Polly never can and never will do anything less than awesome – ever, because Polly is remarkable at everything in every possible way. We get it, Polly, you totes rock. 

As Polly is droning on and on AND ON about all of the wonderful things she has done with this and with that, I imagine myself leaning over and punching her right in her throat; but as soon as the image pops into my head, I realize what's REALLY going on here. Polly only acts this way because she lacks the self-esteem that she so desperately wants everyone to think she really has. So I pull my imaginary arm back, and settle down.

 

Now let's go on to the second type, which you might not spot quite as often as type number one, but unfortunately still very much exists in the world: Debbie Downer. Debbie is a rather usual breed of miserable pessimist. She's all too quick to point out the imperfections the very people who are unfortunate enough to be around her. Debbie will relentlessly bitch, cry, whimper, and moan about every element of everything, all of the time. Debbie even manages to find the negative in seemingly charming things like sunshine, daisies, and kittens. Sadly, Debbie will never, ever find peace in her meaningless life because she is just that wretched. Debbie doesn’t appreciate her life or the wonderful things that life has to offer, which really makes me crazy, when considering the countless people out there who are desperately fighting to save their own. Nothing will ever make Debbie happy and she will forever continue to go through life squeezing out what's left of the happiness around her, like a dirty, soggy dish rag.


Because normal people like you and I are somewhat benevolent individuals, I find myself in a desperate attempt find some sort of redeeming quality in Perfect Polly and Debbie Downer. I mean, there has to be something, right? But just as I’m giving myself the ole' benefit of a doubt pep-talk, I get smacked up-side the head with life's giant football, realizing that there will never be anything good about these people, because they're, well, ridiculous. At this point, all I can do is try to ignore people like this and hope that one day, my head doesn't inflate to the size of Polly's, or come to find everything around me as loathesome as Debbie.

 

I'm Sorry...

I'm Sorry.

These two teeny-tiny words are not said (or heard) as often as they should be. When I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and I don't have a problem admitting when I am. Buy many others obviously lack the ability.

Recently, I made the conscience decision to apologize to someone – a friend, of a friend, of a friend – who I had hurt a while back. Not to make excuses for my behavior in the past but mentally, I was in a pretty bad place in my life. I’m certainly not proud of the way that I behaved at that time, but I did learn a valuable life lesson from it. If only I would have just went with my gut and stayed away from a few bad seeds, things would have been a lot different. But I can't go back, so, here we are.

Anyway, I knew that I had offended this woman, because she had made it abundantly clear to anyone who would listen to her – my close friends included. She continued to trash-talk me behind my back on a regular basis and well after the incident occurred. So, two years later, I swallowed my pride (and my fourth Blue Moon), and decided to finally nip this thing in the bud, once and for all. I pulled her aside and I apologized for my wrong doings, and she seemed to take a liking to the fact that I was admitting fault, on my part. In fact, she accepted my apology, and told me that she appreciated the gesture.

I thought for a very brief moment, that she had finally viewed the situation from my perspective. Apparently not. In fact, I couldn’t have been more wrong. The next day, she acted as though nothing had happened and immediately went back to her trash-talking. Apparently now she's upset that "things were brought up from the past," and she's "totally humiliated" because of it. So my question is: weren't these things already brought up from the past when you decided to trash talk me to my friends, not even a month ago? It makes zero sense to me.

Regardless, of this, I’m not completely full of shit. When I tell someone that I’m sorry, for God’s sake, I genuinely mean that I’m sorry. And the truly sad part is that I'm not the only person that should have apologized. There was another person involved! But by all means, go back to kissing that person's ass, why don't you?

After a lengthy conversation with a pretty good friend of mine, we chalked it up to the she's-bat-shit-crazy-factor. The fact that this woman acted as though things were fine one minute, and then completely changed her tune only a few hours later, leads me to believe that this is definitely the case.

***

At this point sweetie, I've said my peace. If you don't accept that then trust me, I'm completely fine with it. But the next time you see me out - right after you've been talking shit for the hundredth time - I'm not going to be so nice. Take your meds.