A confession. I kind of want to kill someone. Maim them, at least. In the very, very least, make them feel two inches tall. In public. Naked in stocks. Tomatoes, anyone? It’s not a person that I’m mad at but a business. We have moved recently, and online predictions came true: the company we rented from has worked overtime to keep all of my security deposit.
Online reviews of the company said to expect this. When we moved in, my wife and I laughed, and said that if we got half back we would be happy. Then we received the disbursement check after moving which was for much less than half. The reason? A broken sink. A kitchen faucet that doesn’t work. And metal heat registers chewed up by our dog.
I complained. A broken sink? What does that mean? It’s a damned cast-iron porcelain sink. The kind someone will dig up with wonder in ten-thousand years after the nuclear blast. It was scratched, they said. Of course, it is scratched. It’s sixteen years old, for god’s sake. And the faucet? Do they remember that I noted it as needing repair on my initial walk-through? No, but they replaced the sink so they needed a new faucet. And c’mon. Have you seen my dog? She weighs six pounds, and like all Chinese Cresteds, she has about three teeth. She couldn’t chew through foil.
I made a stink and blabbed about SC landlord laws and the owner agreed to split the cost of the sink since I had cared for the rest of the house so nicely. So, they are giving me a little more than half of my deposit and my high-minded, go-with-life’s-flow perspective is right out the window. My wife – usually the one needing calming – reminds me that we got what we expected and a court case cost eighty bucks just ot register and I’ll have to take a day off from work and, really, is this worth that much of your life?
Of course not and I know it. The whole thing is silly. But I feel like a sap. I feel like the company knows all this and are seeing how much they can keep. Mostly I just feel like a sap.
Cheers, well, not really.
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