So this morning there is a For Rent sign on my front lawn. This is what usually reminds me that I need to turn in my lease. I call and tell them that I spaced it off and will try to get it to them before I leave tomorrow.
They inform me that if I don't, they will show it and they will rent it. I think they want desperately to rent it to someone else ... I make fun of them too often. I have yet to find one of them who will so much crack a little bit of a smile at anything I say. This is unusual. It is the grimmest place I have ever been in ... grimmer than the 8th floor of Arthur Anderson in Chicago, where I temped for a few weeks ... and that was grim.
So, I called them, told them I will get the lease to them. I just got a call saying they are going to show the place at 3 tomorrow.
I call ... just because they need funnin, and tilting at windmills is a hobby of mine. I tell her that this is terrible customer service, and they cannot understand why. Which would you rather have ... a known quantity, who always pays on time, who rarely asks for anything to be fixed, who never has a problem with them coming in to do whatever ... or a bunch of college kids?
I finish the call by telling her that I have made fun of them onstage, which I have ... been awhile though ... but hopefully not much longer ... I have the beginnings of a real good song for the Fump. Let's see if I can finish it.