Sunday, December 28, 2008

From the personal files of the Robot: Landlord Hell!


Hey gang, how's it hangin'? I hope you all got some good stuff for Christmas this year and I hope that everyone is well. The holidays haven't been too sweet for Mrs. Robot and me though. For this, I have to blame my landlord. Actually, my former landlord of eight days. He's a real piece of work I tell ya. It's amazing that some people could be so cruel for no apparent reason other than their pride.


When we returned to Los Angeles from our Nashville escapade Mrs. Robot was as pregnant as a cute little thing could be. If you haven't read any of my earlier posts, she was carrying twin babies. Anyway, we ended up renting a house. It wasn't anything special. It had a little yard for my two dogs and washer dryer hookups. That was really our only specification because with her about to give birth, it wasn't like she'd be out walking the dogs and carrying bags to the laundromat.


We called the telephone number from an ad in Craigslist and the guy agreed to meet us at the apartment about an hour later. He said he was out at a dinner, but he could get away. Excited to go look at a place, we hopped into the car and drove over there. When we arrived we met the man who would ultimately become the subject of this story.


Fast forward exactly 11 months later which brings us to the present. The man is either a professional idiot or he's certifiably insane. Our relationship began to sour after our cozy little home became an icebox. The winter was upon us and there was no heat in the apartment at all. Of course we didn't notice this when we moved in, but we did address it shortly after we unpacked the last box. When we told him that we were freezing he suggested that we buy space heaters. We did. When we plugged them in the power blew out. More than once.


Then the babies came and feeling their cold little bodies broke my heart. I'd had enough. I called the landlord and the fact that I was asking for heating must have been too much of a hassle. He told us that if we were unhappy, we could get out of the lease without penalty and we'd get our security deposit back in full. We thanked him for the offer and said that we would consider it. We just wouldn't up and move again with newborns, you know?

Fast forward to now: we decided that the babies could no longer stand the cold so we sent him an email giving him our 30-day notice to move. Well, apparently he's changed his mind and is denying his verbal agreement to let us go. On top of that he's stated that he will be keeping out security deposit as well. Since the actual lease is not up until the end of January, he's keeping our money to pay for that month.

We've sent him emails that detail our plan and his responses, but he's denying everything. Now, he's even trying to accuse of us of, dare I even say it? Having dogs!

That's the funniest thing yet! He knew we had dogs, two of them, when we moved in on our very first day because he was there. Though upon closer inspection it seems as though he's left it off the lease. How convenient.

There is so much more to this, but just writing about it now is making me feel nauseatingly "UN-fun."

I'm just keeping you guys in the loop.


2 comments:

spidercider said...

Make sure you're using every last legal right possible against this slumlord asshole.

Keep up the good work and congrats on the twins!

smoove said...

surely this cannot be happening now that obama has been selected :(