Thursday, June 30, 2011

Sometimes Karma Is A Bitch For A Reason

Once again a week is gone (nearly) and we didn’t manage all the entries we require of ourselves; nor did we write any more stuff, or post any more things, about the other girl. Whatever, we’ll flog ourselves later.

Yesterday we probably would have written but instead we finally checked the mail (something we don’t do sometimes for weeks at a time – we forget). Low and behold in the mailbox was a letter from the local electrical company regarding the property that we own, that we rent to a local woman that has five children and is on government assistance. We know. You’re thinking WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?!

Don’t think for a minute we didn’t get a watered down ‘I told you so” from Fuck Face today when we told him about this situation…and we’re sure if you had been around when we were renting the place out this past October, a few of you would have told The Other Girl to reconsider. She was the boss at the time.

We’ve been getting letters from the electrical company for months, following each one up with a phone call to our tenant, and then to the electrical company, to tell them that we had contacted her; relaying what she had told us – that she was going to call and set up payment plans. (at one point though she had told us she DID call…and then we found out she had in fact not called…)

Guess what? She lied to us; big shock, right? She’s the type of woman who will propagate negative views of people that live on social assistance, so if you’re one of those people you can thank her for our lack of confidence in those such as her/you…etc. (we don’t want to use “them” …it’s apparently judgemental to lump peoples into an “us” and “them” category…)

Anyway, we were a little drunk (duh) when we checked the mail last night, and were already upset because one of us is a fucking freak, and had a bit of an emotional breakdown, that ended with us at work, crying in the washroom for about 10 minutes before we slapped her up, pulled us together and headed home – so by the time we had gotten home we were still…a bit sensitive.

We opened the letter from the electrical company, dated June 7th… (had it really been that long since we checked the mail…we don’t know…) and it said that the electricity had been disconnected on our property due to non-payment of the bill.

Despite the fact that the bill was in her name and we are not responsible for the payment of it, we got very angry and stressed out. We called the electrical company that by some fashion of a miracle was still answering the phone by the time we had ambled home. They informed us that indeed, they had shut off the electricity on the 7th of June (the date that had sent the letter). This meant that if she was still living in our house (and we could only assume she was, rent being paid by the government for the month of June), she had been doing so for almost an entire month without electricity. Fucking dumb bitch. That was what we thought.

We called up Fabulous Person to see if she could give us a ride over to the property and the entire time there we yelled, cussed, tried to make light of the situation and inquired to her…

“Can we yell at her? Will we get in trouble for that?” we asked.

“No, you probably have a right to yell at her at this point”she answered.

“Can we call the worthless lazy cunt names without getting in trouble?” we asked, our blood boiling.

“Probably not a good idea” she answered. Of course we knew she was right.

We got to the property and sure enough…all of our window coverings (which is to say blinds and curtains that we left for her to use) were gone; so we peeked into the house. She wasn’t there but from what we could see it was abundantly clear that she was in the process of skipping out on the lease. The house was mostly empty, there was a sofa up on it’s side.

We checked to see if the BBQ grill that we had left for renters to use was still chained to the house, and it was. We couldn’t get in to check the storage room to see if they had broken in and took anything – we’ll have to do that this weekend when we go put a padlock on the doors (which we are apparently in our legal right to do at this point).

We were furious, obviously, and it being the beginning of the holiday weekend, when we called the government agencies this morning and tried to contact her case worker, we got nothing but answering machines saying not to leave a message because they wouldn’t be checked.

That’s all sorts of awesome.


So, this morning, before the phone calls, as we were leaving for work we begin thinking about karma…we think about it a lot. We all don’t necessarily believe in it, as a whole…but sometimes it’s hard to deny that there is not some sort of balance in the world.

Back when we resided in The Mountain State we were living in a renovated pool house of a motel that had been converted to an apartment “complex” of sorts. We’ve written about this place in one of our big pieces regarding our history, the History of Frank, the time right before we got mis-diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Us, and Body Piercer, were living in the shitty little building behind the KFC, which was basically in the parking lot of the apartment facility. The pool house was small, and you had to go through our bedroom and the bathroom to get to her bedroom. The pool, now empty of water, had simply been filled in with dirt. The tenants were comprised mostly of drug dealers, prostitutes and people on financial assistance (which we were none of). Routinely we would be asked by the “girls” for tampons and if they could borrow the phone. Police officers regularly patrolled the alley that ran between out little “house” and the fast food establishment.

At some point Body Piercer and us decided we would move out…and you guessed it…skip out on the lease and the last month’s rent. We, us, were all of 22 years old, clearly it’s not something we would consider doing now, but at the time…caution was something we routinely threw to the wind.

In the middle of the night we attempted to pack up our dog, a black and white Border Collie-Keeshond mixed breed little darling which The Mother now takes care of, and what little belongings we had and move it on up the trailer park…yep, we upgraded from a renovated pool house in a dingy part of town to a trailer park.

Apparently one of the tenants saw us making our get away and called the landlady who showed up in a fit of anger. She obviously wasn’t happy about what we were doing, and even threatened to keep our dog hostage until we paid the final money we owed her.

In the end she of course didn’t get to keep the dog with her, because let’s face it, that’s fucking stupid and yes, we did end up paying the money we owed her.

It doesn’t change the fact that when we waited for the elevator on the fourth floor of our apartment building this morning, one of us all of a sudden pulled up this memory, and while we had a good chuckle, the first thing we thought was…sure, Karma is a bitch…but she’s usually a bitch for a reason.

There is no conclusion for this so far, we have to wait until next week to make the calls, to deal with this and find a new renter. When all is said and done, last night wasn’t so great (we sorta went into a shut-down mode for a bit), today was much better…but we’re sure this issue is going to become a bone of contention at some point in the near future, and while most of us don’t handle stress nearly as well as others, we can only hope when the time comes we can keep our ducks in order.

Sweet. Check out all those clich├ęs we threw into this entry.

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