Thursday, August 18, 2011

This Month at Crazy Island by Diane Ogden


I call my complex "Happy Hollow," my neighbor calls it "Crazy Island."  The sign out front used to say "Luxury Apartments" until the maintenance guy was instructed to figure out how to stop the front yard from being called "chit island" by the tenants, considering this is the dog building.  So he wenteth out and purchased two VERY LARGE plastic (which retains odors) garbage receptacle's and placed  those big BLACK hunks of smell at the front door entrance which I thought was beyond brilliant, not! And another at the North and South entrances. On hot summer days it is so pleasant when someone opens said black plastic large "chit can" to deposit a little green bag of doo doo. Again NOT!  All one hundred thousand other doo doo's from other dogs comes rushing out of the container and into the air floating over into my apartment or the neighbors depending on the direction of the wind!   Refreshing? Luxury?  And they are not emptied daily or even weekly. That is only the beginning of my happy "tails" of this place.  It is managed by a man who also manages the lowest most crime ridden complex in the city, meaning he treats us luxury tenants like the folks from the lowest end of town with the high crime lights in their yards. We don't have high crime lights we have dog fodder! There is/are no maintenance staff on call at this site.  I cant tell you how many times the fire alarms have gone off in the middle of the night.  It looks like the humane society on strike out front.  Dogs and owners in robes and some less than robes thinking the darn place is going up in smoke all segregated on the front sidewalks with flashlights.  Imagine what those over sized black cans of poop would smell like on fire.  Some of you have imagined the old days when you put a sack of poop on someones porch, lit it on fire and rang the doorbell, then ran like the wind.  Same song, different era.  There was never any fire, just lack of maintenance is all.  I went out into the hall to check for smoke and by Godly if it weren't pitch blackness.  Only ONE of the eight emergency fire lights was working. ONE! Again, maintenance not doing their monthly battery checks for at least ten years. That would be 12 months per year times ten years equals.....120 months now that I have a new battery in my calculator. 
Six months ago they found out the office girl was stealing $.  Yup, she got "away with" six figures...$35,000 of it was my hard earned money.  Turns out it was for drugs. BUT, the manager, knowing he would lose his job brought his accountant wife in and the two of them spent at least two weeks 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, playing cover up machines in the dim lit luxury office.  Then....they called in the men in blue who gave it to the detectives in blue who gave it to the auditors who couldn't find what happened.  Imagine that?  The old boy has been working with the low side of town so long its rubbed off on his ars and moved to his brain.  I still cant believe she got away with it.  P.S.  Hester, Esther's daughter worked here in the office but is being ejected due to her noggin issues.  More on that later as its bigger than the poop receptacles and almost as bad.  The happy news from "crazy island or happy hollow" today is that I think they fixed the underground garage door opener so we can get out now and go to work. But the humongous ginormous chit cans are still sitting downwind!  
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