Tuesday, March 29, 2005

"The Apartment Song"

So this morning's been an interesting rollercoaster of a ride.

Started out with me locking myself out of the apartment. I've only managed this thrice in the two and a half years plus I've lived there. The first time was real late at night, and they charged me $50. The second time was New Year's Eve a few months ago, and I'd given Ev a copy of the key mere hours before, so he was able to come let me back in. Then this morning.

The reason was simple--I usually just leave my keys in my jacket pocket (the jacket I got the summer after my freshman year of high school. I've been wearing it for a decade, and I still love it. That jacket is like my trademark, and the chicks really dig it). During the winter, I wear the jacket every time I leave the apartment, so it's real easy to remember my keys--just put on the jacket, there they are in the pocket.

Well, I didn't wear the jacket this morning. I didn't see a reason, warm as it already was. I slipped on my zip-up hoodie instead (which is another common article of clothing for me. Usually I wear it under the jacket when it's really cold outside, 'cause the layers thing works well). Obviously this was not a necessary arrangement this morning, so I left the jacket hanging on its peg and walked out the front door.

As soon as I pulled the door closed behind me, I realized I didn't have my keys. And my doors are always locked from the outside, 'cause I'm usually terrible about remembering to lock them, so they always remain locked on the outside. I'm already running late for work, so I just hop on the bike and ride to the Writing Center. Once there, I call up the apartment office and talk with the apartment manager, Richie. Richie's a nice guy who thinks pretty well of me, and he says he'll let me back in the apartment if I can come during the morning (he wasn't going to be there this afternoon, so it had to be the morning. Thankfully, my boss is very understanding and let me run back to get let in and grab my keys). When I arrive at the apartment office, Richie tells me that I'm apparently about to be evicted. This comes as a bit of a shock to me, since I thought I'd taken care of this crap a month ago when I took a letter to housing verifying my employment by the university. He said that apparently I have to be employed full time, which I'm not. I'm as close as I can be at the Athletic Department, but they'll never let us be full time.

This understandably upsets me, especially since I knew Ev had lived in the same apartment complex last year and was definitely not a student or employed full time. He worked the same hours I did, and they never had any problems with that.

So I get back to work, a little distraught, and call up Housing. We chat for a bit, and they can't find anything that says I'm getting evicted. So they transfer me to Legal, who apparently are now handling deferments and things of that nature in relation to the university apartments. I chat with a woman in Legal who can't find anything saying I'm going to be evicted. So I'm in the clear. I ask for something in writing, 'cause I know how this place works. The woman says she'll mail me a letter saying everything's kosher this week.

In short, I'm not getting evicted, thank God. Everything's been taken care of, and I can stay in the apartment until the summer. I'm glad, because trying to move and find a new apartment for three to five months is ridiculous. For one, I don't think I could find a lease that would run that short that would be at all reasonable, and I definitely couldn't find a better location. And I just really don't want to have to move and then move again in a few months. It'd be pointless. I'd have just quit my job and moved home before I did that. Thankfully, I won't have to do anything like that, but the whole experience just reminded me why I really dislike this place sometimes.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: The Eagles, "Doolin' Daltins"

5 comments:

Noise Monkey said...

Join us tomorrow when Chuck says:

But I'm NOT supposed to be evicted!

*whump* (as he gets hit with his stuff)

Chuck Cottrell said...

Monkey, when I come to Arkansas next month, I'm coming with a baseball bat. I'm hunting you down in Wal-Mart, and you and the bat shall have a little "discussion." Then I'll probably toss off some pithy one-liner like, "clean up on aisle 4, bub."

Now, if I could just find a bat...

Anonymous said...

Oddly enough, the baseball bats are in aisle four. Whoever said Wal-Mart wasn't convenient?
...Besides myself, I mean. :-p

-Dav-

Anonymous said...

Oddly enough, the baseball bats are in aisle four. Whoever said Wal-Mart wasn't convenient?

...Besides myself, I mean. :-p

-Dav-

Anonymous said...

Great. The system hiccups and posts my comment twice. Now I just look retarded. Not much change from the norm there, I suppose. :-p

-Dav-