Suspicious Smell

The week started off with a gas leak.

Well, actually, it didn’t just start this week. For over a month, I was smelling gas in the unit when I used the oven and handled it by opening up the patio window, so I’d not gas myself.

And yes, I know it was an issue that should have been immediately addressed so as not to blow up the building, but I had a lot going on during that period, what with all that dental bruhaha, plus other things on my mind, and just didn’t care about the ramifications of smelling gas.

Then, on Monday, while driving out of the complex, headed to the Pain Cave, I began thinking now was a good time for the guys to go in, so I parked out front by the office, went in and reported the leak to Assistant Manager — telling her I’d be back in 45 minutes, but the maintenance guys had permission to enter the unit during my absence.

She got on the walkie-talkie right away telling the guys to check it out.

It must have been an easy fix because, upon my return, I saw no evidence the guys had come in and moved anything, there was no maintenance receipt indicating work had been done, but there also is no longer the smell of gas when the oven is in use. So, I guess they fixed it.

As I was leaving the Assistant Manager’s office, she called after me and asked who in my building had children on the property over the weekend.

"Oh, that was _____ (Ms. Neighbor, downstairs, unit underneath Next-Door Neighbor) grandkids", said I. "Why do you ask?"

"There were complaints".

"You’re kidding. Who complained?"

"Many people".

"Why? They’re good kids. They were just riding their scooters on the walkway around the grassy areas".

"Scooters are not allowed on the property, and children cannot be outside on the property unless they’re accompanied by an adult".

I expressed how sad that was that instead of enjoying watching the kids having fun, as I did, others were disturbed enough to complain and asked that Assistant Manager make clear to Ms. Neighbor that it wasn’t any of us in this building doing the complaining.

If Ms. Neighbor can find something she can afford, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the last straw and she moves.

First it was Illusive Unfriendly (downstairs, underneath my unit) complaining about Ms. Neighbor’s son.

The son had been a frequent visitor and would stand outside, foot of the stairs, talking on his phone long before Illusive Unfriendly moved in. But, when she saw him hanging around outside, she called the office and accused him of stalking her.

I haven’t seen him visit since, and now it’s the grandkids who can’t be outside.

Other than my ignoring a gas leak, neighbors complaining about kids playing, a neighbor’s imaginings of being stalked (this is the same neighbor that imagined I was continuously waking her up 3:30 a.m. bouncing a ball) and with our Karen character behaving herself, there’s not a lot going on around here last few days.