Background: I am now in the process of writing a book. Today’s JuicyLessonperday provides a taste of my manuscript which I hope to have ready for publication in early 2014. Most of my book will be about my thirty-four year career as a high school teacher; some of it will also be devoted to family matters.
We had been living in a nice upper duplex in Montreal West since July 1987. We were informed in June of 2011 that we would have to move due to the fact that the landlord’s son wanted to move in. The landlord who sent us the letter informing us of the fact that we were being evicted died in the summer of 2011, just prior to us moving into our new home which occurred in October of the same year.
Our landlord had agreed to pay us a total of $3500 as reparations for our forced move, $1750 on signing the agreement to move and the rest on the day we actually moved. The second payment was to be made in the following manner: they had agreed to turn over the second certified cheque immediately following their stupid inspection. Whether they had the right to inspect the place or not is now a moot point. I had never heard of any landlords carrying out inspections of their properties before but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
About the inspection: they wanted it to occur on the last day of our lease, October 31st to be exact. The time they chose, 6 pm was an additional example of them doing things without enough forethought. What they failed to take into consideration was the fact that it would be dark outside coupled with the reality that three of our rooms – the den/study, the master bedroom, and the living room – had no overhead lighting. We had already moved our stuff into our new home, taking our furniture including the lamps, etc. we had used to supply light to the aforementioned three rooms. To see them show up and try to inspect these rooms in almost complete darkness provided a laugh or two. When they rushed out and returned with a flashlight as well as one of those reading lights which fits around a person’s head was absolutely hilarious.
As it turned out at the end of the inspection, they refused to come across with our money on the grounds that they wanted their plumber to check out our bath tub which they didn’t like the look of. The tub was indeed stained due to the fact that our washing machine actually emptied dirty rinse cycle water directly into it from the washer. The smartest thing I did that day was to leave without the cheque but with the keys.
I ended up phoning the dead landlord’s home. Whereas, previously, the property administrators – those ridiculous twins – had refused to take our calls or texts, insisting that we send emails when we wanted things done, at this point my call was answered by the so-called tenants rights advocate who had already proved to be nothing short of a mercenary, selling his “services” to the highest bidders. They obviously wanted their keys instead of simply changing the locks which is what I would have done in their position. If they wanted to give us a hard time regarding the aforementioned second payment, they could have done that simply by telling us to fuck off and letting us keep the fucking keys. But they’re just too stupid. Oh so dumb in every aspect. I remember this “tenants’ rights person” trying to get us to accept a letter from those idiots after we had our cheque and he had their keys, but I just ripped it up right in his freaking face.
The reason given for kicking us out was that the landlord’s son wanted to live in the place. Did he actually move in? Not if my friends on the street are to be believed. There may be someone living in the upper today, but it remained empty for a good length of time after we moved out. They simply hated us and wanted us gone and were willing to stoop to any depths to get their way. However if they hadn’t kicked us out, we’d still probably would be living there instead of in our own home which we closed on in October of 2011. So when one door closes, another opens. That just the way it is sometimes.