I think I've mentioned before on this blog that the apartment complex where I live had undergone a management change about a year or so ago. Turns out, it wasn't really a big change. The office was staffed by the same morons as the old company. You see, it was simply a corporate buy out, or merger, depending how it went down behind the scenes.
Nevertheless, the only real change was a new paint job on the wood trim of the exterior (the rest is light grey vinyl siding) from dark aqua to pitch black. Oh, and the name officially changed a tad, from "Landmark at Woodland Trace" to simply "Woodland Trace." That's what we were told via the "monthly" newsletter at first. But then I think they got cheap with the signage and printed materials so they actually retained the former name. They just painted over the part of the entryway signs that indicated it was a Landmark Apartment Trust property as that company was the one consumed by the new one, Milestone Management. They eventually replaced the original signage with brand new ones just about two months ago.
But these new signs were up barely a month before one day, when notices were jammed into our doorways. The property had again changed hands. Apparently, this time, Milestone sold us off and we were bought up by our new landlord, Robbins Property Associates.
Here the plot thickens. Through my Columbo-like internet search skills, I found out that: Robbins Property Associates is a division of Robbins Electra. The CEO of Robbins Electra is a man named Joe Lubeck. And guess what company he formerly headed? None other than Landmark Apartment Trust.
When Milestone took over a year ago, the office staff put out notices that things would change for the better, implying the previous management company wasn't doing quite enough to keep us residents happy. True. This place was (and still is) rated very poorly in online reviews. Even maintenance threw the company under the bus when one guy came over and basically said the old way was changing for the better. But nothing really changed. I think Daniel, the closet case who "sold" me this unit had left but the manager was still the same and the office was still a fucked up mess. I'm not sure what else had really changed.
But now that's all water under the bridge 'cause this new ownership is blazing forward. They're on a mission to supposedly convert these 40-year old buildings into shiny, 21st century "luxury" apartments. Within a day of the announcement, all signage had changed. The name is now: "Reserve at Lake Irene." ("Lake" Irene, BTW, like a lot of "lakes" in Central Florida, is nothing more than a pond on the northern border of the property.) Again notices were wedged into our doorways...we'd be under going some major changes.
The website for online payments was closed down with a directive for us to call in or come to the leasing office to give them our email address so we could be giving the new website login information. Huh? I know for me, the old company had this information, why did we need to contact them to tell them what they already knew since surely the bought all our leases with our contact information?
The sewer/water third party billing company the old landlord had been using, even when they were Landmark, was fired and we'd now be paying a tiered flat rate based on unit size. Did this mean an increase in costs for us residents? Of course silly...for my unit size it means about $15 more a month.
Oh, and once the community web portal was up and running, if we chose to pay online, there'd be a $1.95 "convenience" fee. That's right, for a checking account draft. The credit card fee was still 3.5%. I get the CC fee, since they don't want to foot the merchant CC fee themselves, I think that's common in the industry, but a fee for electronic check drafts? The benefit is theirs in such a transaction since they get their money quicker and they aren't charged a fee, as far as I know. So now I have to schlep my ass down to the office each month with an actual paper check. They don't even have a drop box so I can deposit it during off hours.
Yesterday a crew of contractors made their rounds to each apartment to "inspect" the places for "major renovations" which, they said, would commence in about 3 weeks. New kitchen appliances, laminate flooring replacements, new counter tops (no, don't take my Flekstone spray painted cheapo counter tops away, LOL), and new light fixtures throughout. Hmmm. Of course I asked the stupid question, "Will this mean a big increase in our rent?" As an independent contractor, he couldn't definitively say naturally, but with a smirk he said he's known that to be the case in his experience. I'm figuring, as big as these changes are, this new company is going to try and compete with the brand-new, truly luxury apartment complexes that recently were build here in town. If so, were looking at at least a $300/month increase.
But the new management isn't the only irritation. Now these previously quiet neighbors are starting to get to me.
The lady downstairs, Shirley, aka Shaky Filaments, is still super quiet and shit but the other day I saw her struggling to start her mid-eighties rust-bucket Mustang and I had to wait 'till she went back inside before heading out to my car in fear of her seeing me and asking me to help her. Plus, whenever her sister is visiting, the sister comes out and talks non-stop about my car. She loved it so much she bought a Spark for herself. Isn't that great? Who gives a fuck!
The guy I imagined to be a truck driver has moved out of the apartment on the other side of my bedroom wall and there's a young black couple there. The guy must have a very unexpected small dick 'cause he needs to really pound his chick to get it in all the way making their headboard bang non-stop against my wall. She mustn't feel it either 'cause there's no porno flick screeching and moaning on her part. But this doesn't stop them from doin' it all hours in the day, including my sleep time. Oh well, Thumper lives on.
I think the fuck who lives in the apartment opposite my kitchen/dining room wall adopted a cute, little rescue pet. A miniature lapdog breed puppy, from the sounds of it. Awww! How adorable. But the high strung, insecure little thing must have been in a shelter 'cause it cries and whines so loudly and perpetually once it's no doubt left alone while his master goes off to work or out on a date or whatever. Every single fuckin' time. I thought the little crybaby would have grown out of it and learn that their non-stop, high-pitched, full-volume yipping and wailing does nothing. I don't know if the owner knows about this behavior, or just doesn't give a shit since they don't have to hear it. It finally shuts the fuck up once they're home. Only I have to deal with it. And the fucker is twice as loud when it hears me through the wall so now I'm supposed to tippy toe around my own apartment so as not to trigger the little shit? This neighbor, hence forth shall be known as Yippy Ki-yay Motherfucker.
How about the last direct neighbor, the one in the apartment opposite the living room wall? They're still quiet right? True. But I almost never see the bitch even though she goes to work and comes home kinda close to the times I do the opposite. So I've only seen her twice in maybe about 2 years. Both times, she and I are coming or going through the front door to our respective apartments. The doors are separated by about 5 inches between them so during both occasions we were only about 3 or 4 feet from each other. And both times, I turn to her and say "Hello" and she, each time, just kept her back to me while she fidgeted a little too long with her lock so that she didn't have to even acknowledge my presence. And there's no fucking way she didn't hear me. So now she's named Stuck Up Bitch.
Be it ever so humble, mother fuckers, be it ever so humble.