Don't read if you dislike long posts.


So, I'm living at a shoddy, damp, dark, cheap place in the ass end of
a big city, but PT is a five minute walk away, and takes me to a long
distance train station, or an airport in no time. Now, if only I had
somewhere to go.

The owners of the building go bust, much merriment ensues. My part in
this is that the bank that they owed monies to wanted rather badly I pay
the rent to that bank's lawyers (not to them, their lawyers) instead of
to the account mentioned in the contract. It only took half a year, a
couple of meaningless form letters, some emails and faxes, a 1cm stack of
paper, and a phone call, to get those lawyers to send me a written notice
signed by the then current person with signing power that the other party
to my contract didn't mind I complied with that bank's wishes.

Another half year later or so, someone who is a fourth or fifth party to
all this (``I wrote the contract'', he explained, but I had never had
had any contact with him before) knocks on the door unannounced and asks
me where the rents for the last year or so are, ``because the new owners
want to know they'll get paid''.

Say what?

I thought I'd paid everything to, ahem, the lawyers of the bank that
made the owners go bust. In fact, I can prove I did. Clearly, they can't
keep their own books very well. Exit Stage Left for that sockpuppet.

The building does get sold, apparently, but again, the owners forget
to tell me about the changes; I heard about an impending sale due to
$sockpuppet, but no official word. So for a christmas (2006) present
I get a letter from the new people demanding monies, and for new year
I give them a call and ask them who tf they are, and more importantly
if they would please establish that they're now party to the contract
instead of... I don't know who, really. They promise to clear it up.


Five months later, I get a immediate termination of lease notice. So
much for their efficiency. I mean, really, they know something went
wrong before; I had told them AND dropped that the previous owners
weren't the quickest on informing me, so naturally for them it's
perfectly alright to assume it's my fault that I didn't receive the
paperwork.

So I call them again, and they try to play the game of ``that was
someone else, sir, really, we don't know''. This was the brand new
local office instead of headquarters half a country away, so it may
have been true. It doesn't make it an acceptable excuse, however.

I went nearly acoherent shouting at them. I should've gone down there
and shouted in their faces, as they richly deserved it, and even while
shouting myself hoarse wouldn't've done much good, I imagine a sore
throat would've felt better. But then of course the nice people with the
white coats would've come and taken me away. It sounds almost sane in
comparison.

As an aside, somewhere after they sent this little idiocy they sent a
letter prattling how nice it was they had a new local office to be of
extra plus better service to me. Why, thank you for that serving of
helpful honesty. I didn't call them for that. Maybe I should have. And
shouted.

Lots of merriment ensues: letters, promises, payment, proof of ownership
--but only partial: the first few months are not covered. So, that is
why getting me the paperwork took so long: it didn't exist yet.

So, I tell them to clear that up, or else I'll not pay for that period,
and give them a deadline to do so. The deadline, at 30 days to merely
answer much more generous than 10 days to move out, passes. I get a
letter clearly timed to get delivered right on the deadline, failing to
clear much up, but cheekily demanding more money. I spent a couple of
drafts and some stressed sleepless nights before the language of the
reply letter was somewhat stretchily fit for polite company again.

At this point I'm convinced they're out to, maybe not get me, at least
annoy me as much as possible, simply because. Well, the only thing I can
come up with is that they're incompetent. Not merely incompetent, but
incompetent and they know it too, but refuse to admit it to themselves.
Which makes them a distinctly special kind of special. This indubitably
makes a nice flipside study to the _unskilled and unaware of it_ paper.
Only I will not be studying it without some orbital delivery system.

Time passes. Little happens. But then!

Lo and behold! They've seen the light! They finally figure out the
way to... make me pay, they think. They sue me in small claims court.
More precisely, they use a legal instrument to claim monies, which I
contradict, so it'll go to court. After I contradicted their claim, they
try to terminate the contract again, on grounds of the disputed money.
This is disputable at best, but hey, dispute and dispute, goes together,
right? Also, they started sending back my letters on silly grounds.

So, here we have a pretty large company, jumping up and down, trying to
kick sand in my eyes, and sticking its fingers in its ears and going
``neener, neener, I can't heeeeeeaaaaaar yooooouuuuu''.

This is of course only right as I've never chosen to do business with
them and they never chosen to do business with me. It's like a big
dysfunctional family, where it's perfectly alright to try and annoy,
piss off, and generally make life impossible for each other as much as
possible just because.

Right before the hearing they come up with the paperwork I've been
asking for all along. It includes a copy of a letter by aforementioned
lawyers that can't keep books but handle money for a bank, supposedly
informing me of the things they needed to inform me of, dated late
January. They have in their possession, which I can prove, a list of
letters clearly stating no knowledge of such a notice being delivered.

One might expect somewhere should've rung a bell and somewhere a thought
along the lines of ``maybe he really didn't receive that, then''. But
maybe their bell repair man was on extended sick leave. Can't blame him.

So, I never got that letter, so it may be a forgery. That, however,
doesn't matter, because on the face of it and the rest of the paperwork
lawyer+me agree to pay the stuff I said all along I'd pay given proof.

The judge looks at it, goes ``oh, a simple misunderstanding then'' and
decides I should pay the demand and they should pay court costs. Which
they appeal, and lose, for extra cost, on the grounds that it's their
own fault they ended up in court in the first place.


So, am I happy? Oh, for a happy ending. Ha. With a certified stupid
landlord? On the same day I learn about them losing their appeal, which
caused a good snicker here, I get a heating bill. The first ever heating
bill. I've been paying rent to the new owners for a year and a half, and
living here for a bit longer, and only now I get a letter from the gas
people. The letter says that the new owners told the gas people I've
been living here, so, hey, they sent me a bill.

For four years worth of gas.

Standard terms of payable within three weeks.

They may be perfectly in their right to do so, even if it is stretching
``reasonable'' a chinese value of little. I, however, don't really
care at this point, as I'm running out of monies, also because of
after-the-fact tax shenanigans courtesy of the company I burned out at.
Be that as it may, being chronically low on cash is still not my main
concern. I chose sanity, not cash, and any price is worth it. But.

I'm getting sick of the little tricks these little people play.


--
j p d (at) d s b (dot) t u d e l f t (dot) n l .
.

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