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T-Minus 9 Days and Counting


Entry 07/06/2012 09:52:49 AM – Mentat 660

It looks as though I’m coming to the end of the needless, constant and frustrating drama here at the homestead (although keep in mind at the laundromat at the moment doing what I do on a weekly basis). And it’s going to work out in my favor too. Though more on that as I tell the other stories that are going on. First things first though.

The day before Independence Day and my heading over to my aunt and uncle’s in North Providence, I heard all sorts of noise going on from the apartment across from mine. Turns out that the woman living there had been told it was time for her to move out. Seems that the stories from the landlord I heard on the morning of the 4th of July when he dropped off the new keys for the lock to the back door was that she was running prostitution and heroin out of the apartment and Jim and Julian had been calling the police to the house routinely from the amount of noise that was coming out of the apartment during the “quiet times” in the neighborhood. So with a lot of pressure and some less than scrupulous maneuvering, all of her possessions had been out of the house by the late evening of the 3rd. The landlord went so far as to get the car towed off out of the parking lot on the morning of the 4th while I was working out the issues with my apartment.

During that chat I found out the lie that she had told Mr. Waste-of-Human-Flesh about the landlord had included the utilities in the monthly rent was a complete fabrication and the landlord was in quite a tizzy about it too. Seems that she had tampered with both the gas and electric meters and wasn’t paying for either utility. In fact, the story is that in order for the landlord to stop the costs for electricity, he had switched the fuses off locked up her fuse panel in the basement. Seems that she had broken the lock off and got the power restored. Then it was discovered that the electric meter and gas had been locked with anti-tampering locks and completely shut off.

Then in the late morning yesterday, what I thought was the landlord and his handy-people that come in after a tenant has been moved out was in fact the crazy woman kicking in one of the panels of the door in order to break into the apartment. Of course, the police were called immediately and 4 cruisers showed up in the front of the building as the woman was being talked to and prevented from entering the house again. I remember seeing some time later the landlord and the real estate agent than handles payments and some of the maintenance of the apartment out front talking to her (while she was clearly screaming back at the given her expressions, stance and how red in the face she was), explaining to her that the check was not cashed for this month’s rent and that the locks had been changed to ensure no entry.

I remember seeing the police driving off in one direction and her in another sometime shortly after that. Pity that she didn’t get arrested for breaking and entering too. That would’ve been a sort of cherry on the sundae for her breaking the door to enter a completely empty apartment. But according to the landlord and Jim (who I had talked with later on, on the way out of the house to pick up a gallon of milk) who checked the vacant first floor apartment to see if she got entry into the house that way, “She won’t be back”. Though Jim and I are dubious about it, given that this is a woman of drama.

So, there was more drama after my last entry with Mr. Waste-of-Human-Flesh. In the late evening of July 1/early morning July 2, he had taped a note to the door in typical passive-aggressive fashion stating the following:

To: Michael Baldelli

You are required to pay $350 rent by July 5th, 2012 or be subject to eviction.  If you choose to not pay you are required to vacate the premises on July 31, 2012.

In response to reading this at 4 in the morning and not being in good shape given that the only reason I was up at that time was to head t the bathroom for a tinkle break. So between the adrenaline rushes that I had going for reading such bullshit in a semi-conscious, non-caffeinated state, I had worked on a three-page letter which was supposed to be e-mailed and mailed (as required by the state of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations for any litigation that might in fact develop). This letter explained in detail the oral agreement made when I had first moved in, the responsibilities of rent and utilities were to be half-paid by both of us, and how over the course of this cohabitation, the constant broken and unfulfilled promises on his part to this agreement.

I also explained to him how his threat of eviction was empty (and wouldn’t be honored) and warned in as diplomatic a method as possible that eviction proceedings, or small claims court would not work out to either of our benefit. His is because of all the debts he has accrued and the unpaid child support that he has going on (which can only end badly if he tries to show up in small claims). Me because I strongly believe that I wouldn’t get a cent of what he owes even when I won.

That evening after him leaving for some hours, gets my attention that he will honor my renegotiation of paying half up-front. I didn’t acknowledge him really. I didn’t even pay any attention to him other than the possibility of him coming into my room which is now no man’s land for the likes of him. He said he wanted “peace in the house” (at least that’s what I heard when the music stopped playing into my ears) and went back to the living room for the remainder of the evening.

On the 4th of July as I was sitting here playing a game and biding my time until my uncle came by to pick me up for the annual Briere-family BBQ and fireworks display and when I saw the cats freaking out and running under the bed in my room, I took my earbuds off to hear the landlord outside the door, knocking and trying to get either of our attention.

Answering the door, I apologized that he had to make such a racket outside the door because I can’t hear much with my earbuds in.

He handed me two keys and explained that the door lock to the back door had been changed and that the woman next door had been moved out. He also made a bit of noise about no rent being paid from either of us.

I smiled a bit meekly and nodded, telling him about the financial woes that Mark had caused and that I had been arguing with Mr. Waste-of-Human-Flesh for months about it, finally reaching the end of my patience with it.

The landlord said that he was aware of the monies owed and that he would be filing eviction papers on Mr. Waste-of-Human-Flesh because the landlord was tired of his constantly paying late, holding the check that I would hand in for my rent and the constant lies about promising to pay.

The landlord and I did a little talking about the apartment and the now vacant apartment on the second floor and the landlord said that he’d hate to have to put me through the eviction process as I’ve been constantly on time about payments and have never caused him any trouble in the apartment since the time that I had moved in. So for a check for the rent in full for the month of July and a little more talking and negotiating, he offered to help me with getting Mr. Dead-to-Me out of the house and if there were any difficulties that I could move into the apartment next door so that when the time came, Mr. Dead-to-Me would be the only one evicted.

So while I was watching him make arrangements for getting the now ex-neighbor’s car out of the parking lot, the landlord and I worked out that it was up to me to break the news to him about having to move out or face eviction proceedings. I shook hands with him and went about my way, a bit worried about the dip in the budget this caused.

I also decided to avoid making a scene about it for the day. Part of the reason was because I needed a reprieve from the drama that’s been happening most of the last three weeks. That and I didn’t want to harsh the happy buzz I had going prior to the day-trip to my aunt and uncle’s. Even getting home after a long day of heat, food, fun and frolic, I wasn’t really up to harshing anything by confronting him with the bad news.

The next day, I run into the landlord as he was dropping off paints and cleaning supplies for the handy-people to work on the apartment next week and informs me that he (couldn’t leave well enough alone) and yelled at Mr. Waste-of-Human-Flesh on the phone during Independence Day informing him that he needed to move out by the 15th.

I nodded grimly and said then it’s something I will handle when the deadbeat gets up.

Admittedly I didn’t confront him. I was curious to see whether or not he was going to say something — anything — about the news that the landlord had given me. From the moment he woke up until the moment he had left the house he was as silent as a church mouse and made sure whatever room he was in, the door had been completely closed. When he had finally left the house he made sure not to make a sound, and didn’t even remotely look in my direction before he had moved out.

So locking all the locks on the door including the chain lock, I bided my time until he came home.

He did eventually come home. Near to the time that I was getting ready to bed. I could tell he had been out drinking because when he got through both locks on the door, and realized the chain was also on, he thought that he could jimmy it off the slide. He gave me quite a fight with the door in spite of me telling him to step back from the door so I could open it (no doubt from the paranoia that he thought I wouldn’t let him into the house).

That’s when the delusions started.

“Oh so you’re going to talk to me now?” He slurred.

“I don’t seem to have much of a choice given I had a talk with the landlord and he’s telling me that he’s going to be filing eviction papers because of all this. I had to pay the rent in full to avoid it for another month.” I paused before I continue, “I talked with the landlord and he wants you out of the house by the 15th. When were you going to bring this up? Or were you going to simply skulk around the house avoiding me?”

“I was needing privacy.”

He tried reinforcing it, but I interrupted him.

I sighed, “I’ve lived with you for 9 months now, so don’t lie to me. You were avoiding me thinking that this will blow over and it’s not. It’s the end of the line. You’ve been lying, cheating, swindling, you’ve done nothing for your kids, you owe them too much money. You have positively no integrity, and my father always said, ‘a man without integrity it not a man at all.’

So I’m going to make a proposal. You have two choices. The first is that you have to be out of the house by the 15th — that includes and is especially the paintings in the basement (because it’s been confirmed by a fire inspector that it’s a fire hazard). If you choose to move out you’re going to pay me up front the $900 you now owe me. Your other choice is this, you check into a detox clinic. You get yourself cleaned up and your head straightened out. You can leave your stuff here for the time being so you don’t have to worry about where it can store it. When you get out, when you get a steady job, you can come back here and collect your things. But with either choice — you’re going to be out of here by the 15th. And if you think you’re going to try to gip me I will hold all your possession hostage until you pay me back in full. I’ll give you a couple of days to think about this offer.”

As I walked away I turned around and said to him, “Oh and by the way. If I wanted to lock you out of the house I have 2 locks in my room to replace the ones on the door, and I would’ve done it while you were out drinking.”

I left him alone for the rest of the night.

Today it was a whole lot more quiet. He caught me talking with the landlord about what’s going on with him, which no doubt contributed to his quiet and the way he slinked out of the house again. I’m sort of happy with it. Tomorrow night, I’ll approach him and see where he’s going with this. Either or… T-minus 9 and counting.

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