…wasn’t so big. Wow, how anticlimactic was that?
In all seriousness, thanks to Dad and Baby Bro, the move was incredibly easy. On New Year’s Day, we left the house at 10 a.m. with the first truckload and, after a few more trips, we were done before 1:30 p.m. Sounds easy peasy, right? What wasn’t so easy was the day before: New Year’s Eve. If you followed my tweets, excuse me for repeating myself, but I want to share what happened with those who don’t.
Just after 9 a.m. on NYE, I called the acting building manager (regular building manager is on vacay) to find out when I could pickup my keys. “Want to meet me at 11 a.m.?” she asked. Of course I do! In typical Cait fashion, I arrived 3 minutes early for the appointment. After waiting outside for 18 minutes, watching my hands turn red from the cold weather, I called her back. Hi, this is Cait… we were supposed to meet at 11? “Oh right, sorry. I’ll be right there.”
She arrived at 11:30 a.m. I wasn’t thrilled about the waste of time but ensured my frustration didn’t show on my face. That was, until we got in the elevator. On the ride up, she let me know that the dishwasher wasn’t cleaned and, worse, that it was broken. I asked if she was going to call someone to come fix it. No, you can talk to your building manager when he gets back next week. Ok…
After a quick walk-through of the apartment, it was obvious to anybody with half-decent vision that it hadn’t been cleaned. At all. There were long black hairs everywhere, pubes all over the bathroom (yes, I gagged), and a layer of dust covered everything. I made a few references re: my disgust and she, again, told me to talk to my building manager. A solid effort, on her part.
She handed me my keys and walked me out, with no answers to my concerns. And I’m a little embarrassed to admit this next part but when I got back to my car I started bawling. Only for a minute or two, and out of pure frustration, but I just couldn’t handle it. I knew I was going to do a quick clean of the bathroom and kitchen when I moved in, because… that’s just what you do! But it didn’t feel fair that I had to clean every inch of it, to make it livable.
Thanks to Genna’s advice, I called the property management company and filed a complaint. I told them I wouldn’t be moving in – or paying rent, for that matter – until it was cleaned. Within 30 minutes, a property manager called me to apologize and said he would get the acting building manager to clean the apartment herself. She then called me to confirm and, despite probably being P.O.’d about having to do it, her efforts showed.
I wasn’t going to blog about that fiasco because, at the end of the day, the move went smoothly and I’m happy (although I’ll be happier when my dishwasher is fixed). But I thought I would include it as a message for anyone who may be going through something similar. Whether it’s about moving, working, banking, whatever – if you know you’re entitled to something, ask for it! I could have cleaned the apartment myself. I could not have filed a complaint. And the old me would’ve kept quiet. But the new me recognized that I would have spent 4-6 hours doing a job someone else was supposed to do. And since I technically wasn’t responsible for the apartment that day, I knew it wasn’t my job.
Later this week, I’ll post about unpacking, decluttering, etc. and I’ll try to include a few pics!
Have you ever demanded something you were entitled to?