You are some shady motherfuckers.
Cons Of This Apartment Complex:
- One singular drawer.
- Hands frequently stuck in the 4-inch-wide kitchen cabinets, making me feel like my kitchen is a giant Noa trap.
- Not allowed to have a doormat in an enclosed hallway for continuity’s sake. Management, however, will replace all surfaces of elevator with non-matching faux-paneling that smells strongly of weed for dickbag’s sake.
- Maintenance staff feels it appropriate to comment on my choice of outfit for the day, and to notify other residents (but never myself) that my jeans are viewed as “inappropriate clothing.”
- Apparently a dress code is enforced to go to the mail room.
- Unless you want to wear a speedo, and then that’s totally cool. Carry on.
- 90% of kitchen outlets an unreasonable distance from kitchen (1 next to sink, 9 on the outside of the bar towards the floor)
- Fire alarms will sound if I am wearing a grey shirt, using grey nail polish, wielding a silver sharpie, or have ever/will ever think about smoke or smoke colored items–even hypothetically.
- Once a month, electronic keys go out, and callbox must be used to dial old resident (currently residing in Georgia) to press 5 and let me in to my own apartment complex.
- Fire alarm tests that require all alarms in the entire building to be left on for 45 minutes on an early Friday morning.
- Fire alarm tests that enable non-management/maintenance staff to have a key to my apartment and an apparent all-clear to enter my apartment.
- Security gate that never works, but car thieves that do.
- Security doors, elevators, and locks that apparently do not keep out rapists/robbers.
- Weirdly astroturfed and, by law, off-limits sculpture garden that I think mostly serves as a Pigeon suicide ground right under my patio.
- Air conditioner comes on, the lights in my kitchen go off.
- Rolling office chair and occasional running of disposal creates a loud enough disturbance for my downstairs neighbor to file a noise complaint.
- Can hear upstairs neighbor having presumably violent sex/unbelievably harsh workout on a rowing machine from 5-8 PM daily.
- My dog may not bark at the huge lab that barks at her, but the two asshole bloodhounds outside the grassy pet area are allowed to assault any motherfucker they want.
- Your adorable Pinterest contest where if I post a picture of myself holding an “I Love [redacted]” sign, I could win $150. Blood money, dickduffles.
- Under 99% of the flight paths out of Love Field and DFW Airport, making every hour feel like StarScream has taken a personal and bitter vendetta against my sense of security.
- The flight path apparently does not bother downstairs neighbor, but the IKEA chair better tag a muffler on that bullshit.
- Never visited a fast food restaurant near building that has gotten the order even partially correct. I assume you to be responsible.
- It is not, as far as I know, an entrance to Hell.
That’s not a selling point, assclowns.
Ever had a truly horrendous rental/house experience? What did you do?– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Mayor Gia: “Aw, I love them. Although sometimes I don’t get the joke. Sigh. Damnit, science. Thwarting me again!”