Sometimes I can be really stupid, like maddeningly stupid. Take yesterday or the day before as an example: The annual fire inspection was due and since I had to go out the day before yesterday, I gave the key to my flat to my neighbour who also happens to be the maintenance guy for the building. On my way out, I went to the manager's office and let them know who had my key in case the inspector came by.
The manager scoffed in his New Zealander accent, "That's got nothing to do with me".
Wot? The maintenance guy, an employee of the management company who also employs the building manager has nothing to do with you? Seriously, the building manager is usually a nice guy, but he's been pissy for awhile due to the fire inspection. Anyway, he told me that the inspectors would be back the next day.
Yesterday, I woke up early. My clock said 8:49, so I closed my eyes for a little bit. The next time I looked at the clock, it was 9:43. I had to get up to let the fire inspectors in, so I jumped out of bed and waited for them. And waited. And waited some more. At 11:30, I went down to the lobby to check with one of the inspectors. He told me that his buddy was on the 19th floor and working his way down. I gave the thumbs up, and went back upstairs to wait. And wait. And wait some more. Finally, at 3:45 I went downstairs to find the inspectors. They'd gone, bastards. I called the building manager and he told me that he and the inspectors had come to my flat at ten after nine in the morning.
"Did you knock loudly?"
"Oh yes, I knocked so loud that your neighbours opened their doors thinking we'd come to them."
Fire inspections are a big deal. It says so in the notice that the management company hastily posted in the lift. If the flats aren't inspected, our insurance policies are void. That's why I was so concerned about getting the flat inspected in the first place.
"What happened last year?", he asked. "If you had the flat inspected last year, then you're fine. You only need to have it inspected every three years." They don't put that in the notice in the lift. I had to take a deep breath on that one and stop myself from slamming down the phone. I was sitting on the divan trying to stay warm, and I hadn't even had a shower yet because I was afraid that the inspectors would come then.
That's just the prelude to the stupidity. Today, somewhat already irritated by my bank, I set out for my daily fix. On my coffee run I sent out some resumes for jobs that specifically asked for faxed documents. I don't have a fax machine, but there are 3 minimarts and a Western Union in a 1 block radius of my flat, and a fourth mini another block away. One I don't patronize because of philosophical differences, bastards. Another one is hidden among the nail and hair salons, and is further obscured by an abundance of lottery and phone card advertisements covering the window spaces. A third place (the furthest) is the newest minimart and has quite friendly proprietors. I went there to ask for fax service. I figured a 4-page fax would cost me a deuce, or maybe a buck a page. Try a deuce per page for local service. Yup, and there's no way to tell if the fax went through!
In a dazzling display of income skimming, the shopkeeper took my twenty and gave me $4 back, but didn't ring in the sale. A lot of shopkeepers do this. It under-reports income and allows a cash-based business to get away from paying tax on thousands every week. I don't care. All I can do is pay my taxes and hope that they get caught. 2 faxes and $16 later, I bought my coffee and retraced my steps home. On the way, I stopped at the closest minimart to my flat. I'd never been to this one before, but my dad loves it. Seriously, he LOVES this minimart, he'd marry it if it were legal (and it may soon be). He's convinced the owners are millionaires and all they had to do for it was sell lottery tickets and pantyhose, but amazingly its still too much work (responsibility) for him. Right Dad, its so simple to make it rich. I stopped in and asked if they offered fax services. They do, at a buck a page. Sweet. the next time I need a fax machine I'm going there, its closer anyhow. The stupid part is that I stupidly ignored this shop to begin with. Then, I stupidly told them that I had just stupidly paid $2 a page to stupidly send faxes at another shop. How much do you want to bet that this place doubled their price the second I walked out the door?
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2 comments:
david - our minimart is waaay better - you should stop by. We're on east hastings, down by the police station. Seriously, you can't miss it. :)
Anon - its alright, you can use my real name Dax. David is just a name I use to avoid silly questions like "Dax? What kind of name is that?", and so forth. If you care, its French-ish.
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