Emerald Property Management
December 5th, back in Calgary, time to pick up my Damage Deposit from Emerald Property Management. I left no forwarding address, had none, told Marty (the onsite landlord) that I'd pick it up from their head office next time I was in Calgary.
Monday, December 5, this is the next time in Calgary, after a cold night in the Jeep (frozen, -26, didn't unpack the back properly and every time you touched something you got colder and colder, up at 6:30, down to Beano for the long morning coffee and attempt to warm up, waiting for Emerald to open), 9:30, finally, and I go to pick up my cheque.
The landlord - Marty - and I agreed - when I left, it wasn't perfect - perfect for me, not for them, didn't steam clean the carpets, the drapes, didn't clean the inserts on the stove, he estimated the deductions, maybe $75.00 for miscellaneous cleaning, tops, $100 for drapes and carpets, max, cheque would be ready in 2 weeks, 10 business days.
So I'm expecting the cheque to be ready. Oh yeah. Cheque will be ready, it's December 5th, after all...I've been gone over a month. And with that cheque I'll pay child support, do some Xmas shopping, maybe have a meal, and with luck enough gas to get back to the Koot's. (I hadn't picked up the restaurant gig yet.).
I'm at the office at 9:30 - 2nd one there, there's an irate middle aged couple ahead of me, various grievances, an indifferent receptionist, I wait my turn.
They're pretty irate and she's as sympathetic as she can be while putting it all down to "understandable mistakes...paperwork...misunderstanding...you know, we have a lot of tenants...". She's not taking their side, and they're not too sympathetic, but even just eavesdropping you get the clear idea that they've fucked up, repeatedly, big time. And they're gonna do it again. It's a busy little office, people forever coming and going, mostly staff, I don't understand this property management thing but is sure involves a lot of support personal nowhere near the properties to be let...
Finally, my turn. The couple before me, their own experience, it's made me a bit suspicious. I get my cheque, in a white Emerald Envelope. Leaving, on the way out the door, I open it, check the amount, just to be sure before I get to the bank...
WHAT THE FUCK!
I swallow my irateness, all the venom that's rising up, the sarcasm, the bile and vitriol, address the secretary: "Excuse me, this appears to be incorrect, is there anyone I can speak to about this...?"
There's no "appears to be incorrect", it patently is, and my moving out of province has made me an easy target for predacious landlords...
She searches for the number, asks where I live, I give her the old address, my old contact, Marty, apparently he's not the main contact...
She's busy. While she's searching and making calls on my behalf she answers no less than a dozen other calls, all of which seem to be escalating complaints of the sort the couple ahead of me had, mislaid postdated cheques, premature eviction notices, lack of essential services...no one in their right mind wants her job...
Finally she finds it, the number of my contact, I make the call, leave a message.
He calls me back an hour later. "Sorry for the misunderstanding..."...the cheque was only for $100.00 because the other $625.00 was mailed out to my last known address. Really? Really? I mean, why would you mail my damage deposit to the one address you knew I had moved out of? And why would you only mail a portion of it - $625.00 - and keep the other $100.00 at the head office? And - not to be too difficult - why are the cleaning suites/cleaning carpets, drapes fees so out of line with what I was quoted by Marty, the actual, onsite landlord who presumably would be doing all of the above?
He hasn't got any answers...he'll get back to me.
A couple of hours later he does. I've got nothing better to do than drive around Calgary and wait - at the moment it's appearing as if I'll be staying, the gas money to return home, I squandered that on the kids dinner the night before, this cheque, it was gonna pay my way home. Maybe. Not likely.
The reason is...well, there's no reason. They estimated the costs. Took a wild guess. They haven't got the bill yet for the cleaning of the carpets and drapes or the estimate of the time it cost to clean the place from Marty. I'm annoyed, seriously annoyed, I know I'm being fucked...they'll just mail me the remainder, do I have a forwarding address?
NO I DO NOT! And I emphatically underscore the fact that I'm not returning to pick up another cheque, that it's been over 30 days since I vacated the premise and therefore they should have all bills for all related expenses, this is bollocks (politely), but I want my damage deposit back, NOW!, ...
He argues, can't do it, needs to check the charges, I tell him to call the companies, they've done the work, they'll know the billing, I'm returning to BC tomorrow and I want my cheque, and finally, after far, far too much wrangling I get my damage deposit back. Some $961 odd dollars. Fair. But, really, why should one have to argue that long, that hard, for what's rightfully theirs? The reason, simple, if you don't question it they will fuck you, don't question the charges, the incompetence, and the money is theirs, SYSTEMATIC AND PREMEDITATED INCOMPETENCE!
Marty, the old landlord calls me in January to tell me that my damage deposit is ready, he has the cheque, I'm not Emerald, I should be, I just tell him that I've already gotten it...
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- Category: Rants
Couch surfing
A few nights, at the end of the tour, couch surfing. It's got it's advantages, you're not paying rent, it's warmer (when it's -26 outside) than sleeping in the jeep, but it's got it's drawbacks as well.
The first of which is that most people's couches are positioned directly in front of their TV, and you have to wait until their day is done before you can go to bed. And most people seem to watch TV until midnight...or so. And so your night grows long with the idiocy of others that you'd never think to subscribe to but are victimized by nonetheless.
The TV here, it's always on. Choose whatever you want to watch, just don't shut it off...there's nothing on, it's the local networks, there's no cable here. Bad bible themed channels and Canadian dramas like "Murdoch Mysteries" and "Michael: Every Day" and "City TV" that make you nostalgic for the golden years of Canadian TV-Shows like "The Littlest Hobo" and "The Beachcombers".
But she's got Netflix, and the nephew warned me that I wouldn't believe the shit they watch and sure enough, I'm here, on the couch, I'm watching everything that they watch. And yeah, truly it's unbelievable. It's like they don't understand how the rating system works: "How to make an American Quilt" - the first movie I've seen that I can honestly say was worse than the Titanic. "Under a Tuscan Sun", not bad, but we've kinda killed that, haven't we?. And when I'm given the controls, choose a film, I have to stay within the prescribed limits of romance or comedy, preferably both, thrillers, suspense, action, intelligence, drama, they're all out, and so i end up selecting the "Ridiculous Six", with Adam Sandler, damn that Adam Sandler, it's exactly what I should have expected. Only they're pleased at my good taste...
Now I get recommendations - things like "5 to 7", which is so low budget that you can see bystanders in the background ducking and getting out of the frame, they're not actors, didn't intend on being in this , if they knew what a load of shit this was they'd move a lot quicker, let me tell you, and I'm expected to rave favorably about it, things like "so romantic" and "so true" and "why can't we be more like Americans imagine French people to be like" and all I can think is that this is bloody nonsense and somebody should be held accountable for setting the bar sooo low...
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- Category: Miscellany
Insouciant
Carrying 4 plates, 3 in my right hand, one in my left, I stop at the side-station to grab the pepper mill. The nephew's behind me, he's grabbed a couple of the side dishes, one in each hand, like a truck stop waitress...
"How long have you worked here? And still only 2 plates?" I ask. He shrugs.
"Look at me bro...do I have 3 arms?"
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- Category: Conversations
They're not diamonds...
...give the daughter her bucket of garnets for Christmas..."Mined 'em myself" I tell her. She looks blankly at them. "Hurrah" she replies..."They're not diamonds, dad..."
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- Category: Conversations
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