What they don't tell you when you get in the leasing industry is that not only do you have to perform the administrative duties of leasing a property; but you have to be an (unwilling) confidante, sometimes friend, mediator, referee, counselor and babysitter. When you put 100+ adults in a small area all common sense seems to go out the window and people start acting like children. They also don't tell you that for every 3 normal residents you have there is 1 not operating on a full deck.
I've Got I.D.
When you fill out an application to live in an apartment you have to identify whether or not you have a pet. When you do that you have to list the type of pet (bird, cat, dog) and the breed of the pet. We also want to know how old, how tall and how heavy your pet is. It's not to be mean. We just know that your downstairs neighbor will appreciate you much more if you don't have a Great Dane running around your apartment in the middle of the night. We also want to know identifying features of your pet. That's so if your beloved dog Ruffles gets loose that we'll know who to return him to.
The company I was working for at the time had recently purchased a new property. We were two weeks from the official takeover so I was at a property close by auditing the files of the applicants waiting to move in as well as the current residents. If someone was a chronic late-payer I made sure to make a note so these things could be brought up when we met with the old company before the purchase.
I came across one apartment that had a rather thick file. Not only were they habitually late payers but they had a very aggressive dog that made working on maintenance requests difficult as the dog had to be removed from the apartment or double-caged to keep it from getting out and attacking the maintenance team. I was looking over the pet rider (a rider is any amendment or addition to a standard lease that can change during the residency. ie: owner no longer has pet, we simply note it on the rider rather than having them sign a new lease.)
As I was reading this rider, I'm noting that the dog is a pitbull mix. As I skim to the physical markings part of the rider I notice: 5'3", brunette, tattoo on left breast, wrist and ankle. Yes dear reader, the resident described themselves and NOT the dog. Good to know, because if she ever got loose on the property, I was sure to know what apartment to send her back to!
We'll see a lot of this particular resident in the future.
Ed McMann
In order to rent an apartment, you have to have money. Not only do you have to have money but you have to have proof of having money. I mean, we're not going to give you your apartment for free. That would be just silly.
I had a prospective resident who would call every month to ask about availability and pricing. The prices never changed but she would always say that she was waiting until the price was low enough for her to move in. Over the course of a year, I got to know her well as she would always tell me about her troubles. And because I have nothing better to do (I mean, seriously, managing a multi-million dollar property is a cakewalk.) she liked to keep me on the phone for as long as she could. One day, I receive a call from her. She was so excited and happy.
Caller: You'll never guess what happened to me. I finally have my money. I am so excited, I came upon a windfall of money. I can finally move in! And I'll pay for my for a year right away. I'm so happy!
Me: Oh, that's so wonderful! I'm very happy for you. When would you like to come in and pick out your new apartment?
Caller: Well, my letter said that I just won $10million and that I have some paperwork to fill out before I can claim my money. But I think I'll have it within the month.
Me: (starting to get suspicious). That's. . . great. So, do you want to schedule an appointment?
Caller: Well, in order to claim my money, I just have to order some magazines. Why don't I call you once I get everything set up.
Me: Did your letter happen to come from Ed McMann?
Caller: How did you know?! Oh this is such a wonderful day.
Me: (shaking my head). How about this, why don't you call the number on the letter. I think this is from Publishers Clearing House. Why don't you call me back when you get all of this sorted out and set up an appointment when you know when you'll be receiving the money and we'll make our plans from there.
Caller: That sounds great! I can't wait to come in. I'll be talking to you soon!
Really, I couldn't burst her bubble. I'm not a monster. I figured that she would realize the truth when she called the 1-800 number on the letter. As much as she kept me on the phone when she called other times, I just couldn't rain on her parade. She was so happy and it was kinda cute.
I Want What He's Having!
Sometimes the crazy doesn't come from the residents. Sometimes it comes from the people that pop in to the office. Sometimes they want information on the property, or are inquiring about employment opportunities, some are looking for their friend's apartment or just want directions. I had made a habit of making sure the leasing office was as welcoming as possible. We had snacks, free coffee, tea or hot chocolate and sodas in the fridge. I'd bake cookies or have popcorn just popped ready and waiting. It was about the experience for not only residents but people who may be interested in renting an apartment.
One spring morning, I was refreshing the snacks. Office hours didn't officially start but I had the door unlocked because I was bringing things in from my car. I look up and standing in the doorway is a gentleman. There wasn't anything remarkable about his appearance but he looked a little lost. I asked him if there's anything I could help him with.
Man: What's going on over there? (nods towards the pool that is covered in a green tarp)
Me: Oh, we're in the process of uncovering the pool so we can drain it and get it ready for the summer.
Man: Yeah, but what's going on. They're setting up all that stuff.
Me: Oh the tools. Yes, they are rather unusual, aren't they? (Our pool cover attached with a complicated bolt mechanism that required large wrenches).
Man: No, no, the concert they're setting up.
Me: Excuse me?
Man: Yeah, see all the speakers? Do you know who is playing?
Me: No, sorry, I. . . don't?!
Man: Oh well, looks pretty rad. Can I have a muffin?
And with that, as quickly as appeared, he was gone. Muffin in hand happily walking out of the complex.
Coming Soon! Crazier and Craziest!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tales From a Property Manager
I've accumulated quite a few stories over the years I spent working in the property management field. I figured I shouldn't be the only one to benefit from the strange but true stories.
Annie Oakley
Annie got her name because she liked to carry a rifle in a bag wherever she went. Like taking her trash out or paying her rent, this rifle went everywhere with her. One day, I get a call in the office from Annie. She was requesting that we remove the unused outlets from her apartment. Curious, I asked why. Her response:
Annie: Well, Sirhan Sirhan and Hitler use my outlets to communicate with eachother. They're plotting something bad and I don't want to be responsible for their trouble.
Me: I'm sorry, we can't remove the electrical outlets, but I will send a maintenance tech over to your apartment to have a look.
About a half-hour the maintenance guy returns to the office laughing. I asked him how things went. He said that Annie became even more adamant about having the outlets removed. After a good 10 minutes of back and forth he finally compromised by placing electrical tape over the unused outlets. He told her that it was special CIA approved tape and it would stop them from communicating with eachother.
Laundry Thief
It was the end of my work day and I was at a property my company just took over. I was sitting at the desk in the leasing area going over the application with a couple who were looking at renting a two bedroom apartment. As I was going through the paperwork, in walks C with two large trash bags.
C demands that she speak with me now. Seeing that she was clearly upset, I excused myself from the couple, telling them to read over the paperwork and that I would be back with them in a few minutes to answer any questions. I walk over to C and ask her if I could help her.
C: Here (she thrusts the bags at me). Someone stole my laundry basket. I know who it is, it's the damn kids upstairs. I took their laundry out of the dryer and put them in these bags.
Me: What do you want me to do with this?
C: I want you to call them and demand that they give me my laundry basket.
At this point, she's starting to yell. The couple reviewing the paperwork can clearly hear what is going on.
C: This is clearly an issue of theft. I demand that you stop these people from stealing. It's unacceptable and disgusting and if you don't do something about it I'm going to move.
I calmly look at C:
Me:I will most certainly look into the situation. What number can I call you back at? I'm currently helping this couple but I will look into it when I'm through with them.
C: (yelling now) This is absurd. You need to handle this RIGHT NOW. Theft is unacceptable.
Me: (almost nearling my level for no longer being calm) I will absoultely deal with this when I am done with this couple and I will call you when I am through.
C: No, I will wait here. People can't walk around stealing things. I don't want them to get their clothes until I get my basket back.
Me: (up until this point, I was willing to just give her money from petty cash for a new basket, just to get her to leave. But now she's taken it too far and the couple that is sitting close by could be considering whether they want to move into a community with people like her. Then it hits me.)C, you need to leave the office now. Besides, what do you think you just did by bringing me their laundry. You stole it from them and now you want me to ransom their clothing for a $1 basket?
C storms out of the office in a huff. I apologize profusely to the couple and assure them that things like this do not happen here on a regular basis and that we don't tolerate behavior like that and that I will be dealing with the disturbance. Fortunately they had a good attitude about it and were able to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Once the couple left, I called the residents who were missing their laundry. They come down to the office with the laundry basket and tell me that the basket was actually theirs and that it was stolen from them. He then proceeds to show me the bottom of his basket. In faded and scratched sharpie was the residents name and his dorm room # from college. Thankfully HE had a good sense of humor and took his clothes back of him.
I never heard back from C, but from what I understand she left the couple alone from then on out.
Coming Soon: More Tales of the Crazy, Crazier and Craziest Residents
Annie Oakley
Annie got her name because she liked to carry a rifle in a bag wherever she went. Like taking her trash out or paying her rent, this rifle went everywhere with her. One day, I get a call in the office from Annie. She was requesting that we remove the unused outlets from her apartment. Curious, I asked why. Her response:
Annie: Well, Sirhan Sirhan and Hitler use my outlets to communicate with eachother. They're plotting something bad and I don't want to be responsible for their trouble.
Me: I'm sorry, we can't remove the electrical outlets, but I will send a maintenance tech over to your apartment to have a look.
About a half-hour the maintenance guy returns to the office laughing. I asked him how things went. He said that Annie became even more adamant about having the outlets removed. After a good 10 minutes of back and forth he finally compromised by placing electrical tape over the unused outlets. He told her that it was special CIA approved tape and it would stop them from communicating with eachother.
Laundry Thief
It was the end of my work day and I was at a property my company just took over. I was sitting at the desk in the leasing area going over the application with a couple who were looking at renting a two bedroom apartment. As I was going through the paperwork, in walks C with two large trash bags.
C demands that she speak with me now. Seeing that she was clearly upset, I excused myself from the couple, telling them to read over the paperwork and that I would be back with them in a few minutes to answer any questions. I walk over to C and ask her if I could help her.
C: Here (she thrusts the bags at me). Someone stole my laundry basket. I know who it is, it's the damn kids upstairs. I took their laundry out of the dryer and put them in these bags.
Me: What do you want me to do with this?
C: I want you to call them and demand that they give me my laundry basket.
At this point, she's starting to yell. The couple reviewing the paperwork can clearly hear what is going on.
C: This is clearly an issue of theft. I demand that you stop these people from stealing. It's unacceptable and disgusting and if you don't do something about it I'm going to move.
I calmly look at C:
Me:I will most certainly look into the situation. What number can I call you back at? I'm currently helping this couple but I will look into it when I'm through with them.
C: (yelling now) This is absurd. You need to handle this RIGHT NOW. Theft is unacceptable.
Me: (almost nearling my level for no longer being calm) I will absoultely deal with this when I am done with this couple and I will call you when I am through.
C: No, I will wait here. People can't walk around stealing things. I don't want them to get their clothes until I get my basket back.
Me: (up until this point, I was willing to just give her money from petty cash for a new basket, just to get her to leave. But now she's taken it too far and the couple that is sitting close by could be considering whether they want to move into a community with people like her. Then it hits me.)C, you need to leave the office now. Besides, what do you think you just did by bringing me their laundry. You stole it from them and now you want me to ransom their clothing for a $1 basket?
C storms out of the office in a huff. I apologize profusely to the couple and assure them that things like this do not happen here on a regular basis and that we don't tolerate behavior like that and that I will be dealing with the disturbance. Fortunately they had a good attitude about it and were able to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Once the couple left, I called the residents who were missing their laundry. They come down to the office with the laundry basket and tell me that the basket was actually theirs and that it was stolen from them. He then proceeds to show me the bottom of his basket. In faded and scratched sharpie was the residents name and his dorm room # from college. Thankfully HE had a good sense of humor and took his clothes back of him.
I never heard back from C, but from what I understand she left the couple alone from then on out.
Coming Soon: More Tales of the Crazy, Crazier and Craziest Residents
Sunday, December 5, 2010
We survived the TSA
Remember a couple of posts ago, I was worried about what I was going to tell my 90 year old grandmother about the new TSA process? Well, we had a bit of an issue getting to and from Key West. Let me start by saying that I appreciate the efforts to make flying safe and I understand that these screening efforts are in place because there are people trying to do very bad things. However, I believe that *if* you find something suspicious that you explain the process as you go.
We were flying out of Harrisburg International. One, because it's a smaller airport and two because we only had one stop between there and key west. We arrived at the airport nice and early with the understanding that we'll be flying on one of the busiest days for travel. There really wasn't a huge crowd so we thought getting through security would be a breeze.
As we zig-zagged through the cattle chutes people were being split between the X-Ray machines and the one full body scanner. Mom and Mom Mom went through X-Ray without problem. Brad, Eddie and I were put in the full body scanner line. Brad and I went through without incident. Eddie was pulled to the side. We figured his insulin pump gave them cause to do a pat-down and he was prepared in advance and provided medical documentation stating that he had the pump and vials of insulin.
What we weren't prepared for was after the pat-down when they pulled him into an opaque room and told me I couldn't follow him. I was told to go to my gate or wait at the seating area outside of the security area. This was AFTER I told them I was his wife and after they refused to tell me what was going on. For well over 15 minutes (that felt like hours) Eddie emerges. It seems that something set off the scanner and indicated that there was some kind of chemical that was on the 'list' of potential dangers.
For 15 minutes they went through his backpack that had our camera and computer. They ran gloved hands all over him and tested them. All the while not telling him why they were doing it. When it was all said and done, they told him that it was probably the gasoline from the gas station we stopped at on the way to the airport that triggered this extra treatment. They never once told him that he had the right to have someone with him or that he had a right to refuse this extra attention. They made him sign a piece of paper that stated something along the lines of being pleased with the treatment he received. At this time, they were calling for the pre-boarding of our flight. So what was he to do? Miss the flight and potentially not be permitted to fly? Of course he signed it.
Not to mention the fact that I was told nothing and watched 3 different security personnel go into the opaque room that held my husband. Uncertain as to what was going on. As he was being escorted to the seating area where I was anxiously waiting, the security escort told him that he was really sorry and that most of them didn't have a whole lot of training and what training they did have didn't include how to treat the people they were essentially groping.
Since we were leaving for what was going to be a very nice and relaxing trip to warmer weather, we boarded our plane. Thinking that this was just a once and done occurrence, we put this incident out of the way with the intent to voice our concern when we returned. Knowing that Eddie wouldn't be pumping gas on the return flight home, we didn't really think we'd experience the same incident again.
Key West was great. The weather was warm and we had beautiful weather. Mom Mom really enjoyed seeing all of the cats, chickens and houses. We ate fresh seafood, saw stunning sunsets and many ships large and small. Because we were constantly going, Mom Mom's joints were bothering her so she was using quite a bit of ben-gay and horse lineament. And not just a little bit either. We could feel it on our skin just by pushing her in the wheel chair.
The day we left, Mom Mom applied her standard quarter of a tube of ben-gay and horse lineament, packed her bags and waited til it was time to leave the house for the air port. Key West doesn't have the body scanners so we really didn't think we would run into any issues in security. Mom walked through ok, Brad and I walked through ok and Eddie walked through without incident. Mom Mom made it through fine but they had to inspect her wheel chair.
As we are sitting on the other side of security putting our shoes back on and helping Mom Mom, a TSA agent tells Mom Mom that they need to do further screening. THIS was what I was worried about. The agent was very nice and explained exactly what she was doing. She was even a little less gropey when performing the pat-down. She explained that the wheel chair tested positive for chemical traces. They noticed that Mom Mom was older and likely not a terrorist but protocol indicated that they had to test their gloves after the pat-down just in case.
We anxiously waited, praying that Mom Mom wouldn't have to go through the same indignity that Eddie had to. After a minute or so the agent walks up to Mom Mom and asks her if she takes any medication as that was what the machine indicated. So Mom Mom rattled off the booklet of medication she takes on a daily basis. The TSA agent asks if any of them are liquid to which Mom Mom replied no.
This confused the TSA agent, who then mentioned that they will more than likely have to do further screening. As she was walking to get an airport wheel chair to transport Mom Mom to locations unknown, my brilliant brother says 'wait! Does ben-gay count?' The TSA agent said of course, the chemicals could very easily have set off the machines. We all look at each other and laugh. The near entire tube that Mom Mom applied the past week had seeped into the wheelchair, coating it in the chemicals and lotion.
Satisfied with our revelation, the TSA agent released us and let us continue on to our gate. It's amazing what sets off these machines. It's also amazing that most agents have little to no training on how to deal with the people they are 'investigating' and how far they are willing to go based on appearance. So lesson learned, be extremely careful before going through security. Hope that you get someone who has good interpersonal skills and who has been properly trained. And for gods sake, don't coat yourself in ben-gay!!!
We were flying out of Harrisburg International. One, because it's a smaller airport and two because we only had one stop between there and key west. We arrived at the airport nice and early with the understanding that we'll be flying on one of the busiest days for travel. There really wasn't a huge crowd so we thought getting through security would be a breeze.
As we zig-zagged through the cattle chutes people were being split between the X-Ray machines and the one full body scanner. Mom and Mom Mom went through X-Ray without problem. Brad, Eddie and I were put in the full body scanner line. Brad and I went through without incident. Eddie was pulled to the side. We figured his insulin pump gave them cause to do a pat-down and he was prepared in advance and provided medical documentation stating that he had the pump and vials of insulin.
What we weren't prepared for was after the pat-down when they pulled him into an opaque room and told me I couldn't follow him. I was told to go to my gate or wait at the seating area outside of the security area. This was AFTER I told them I was his wife and after they refused to tell me what was going on. For well over 15 minutes (that felt like hours) Eddie emerges. It seems that something set off the scanner and indicated that there was some kind of chemical that was on the 'list' of potential dangers.
For 15 minutes they went through his backpack that had our camera and computer. They ran gloved hands all over him and tested them. All the while not telling him why they were doing it. When it was all said and done, they told him that it was probably the gasoline from the gas station we stopped at on the way to the airport that triggered this extra treatment. They never once told him that he had the right to have someone with him or that he had a right to refuse this extra attention. They made him sign a piece of paper that stated something along the lines of being pleased with the treatment he received. At this time, they were calling for the pre-boarding of our flight. So what was he to do? Miss the flight and potentially not be permitted to fly? Of course he signed it.
Not to mention the fact that I was told nothing and watched 3 different security personnel go into the opaque room that held my husband. Uncertain as to what was going on. As he was being escorted to the seating area where I was anxiously waiting, the security escort told him that he was really sorry and that most of them didn't have a whole lot of training and what training they did have didn't include how to treat the people they were essentially groping.
Since we were leaving for what was going to be a very nice and relaxing trip to warmer weather, we boarded our plane. Thinking that this was just a once and done occurrence, we put this incident out of the way with the intent to voice our concern when we returned. Knowing that Eddie wouldn't be pumping gas on the return flight home, we didn't really think we'd experience the same incident again.
Key West was great. The weather was warm and we had beautiful weather. Mom Mom really enjoyed seeing all of the cats, chickens and houses. We ate fresh seafood, saw stunning sunsets and many ships large and small. Because we were constantly going, Mom Mom's joints were bothering her so she was using quite a bit of ben-gay and horse lineament. And not just a little bit either. We could feel it on our skin just by pushing her in the wheel chair.
The day we left, Mom Mom applied her standard quarter of a tube of ben-gay and horse lineament, packed her bags and waited til it was time to leave the house for the air port. Key West doesn't have the body scanners so we really didn't think we would run into any issues in security. Mom walked through ok, Brad and I walked through ok and Eddie walked through without incident. Mom Mom made it through fine but they had to inspect her wheel chair.
As we are sitting on the other side of security putting our shoes back on and helping Mom Mom, a TSA agent tells Mom Mom that they need to do further screening. THIS was what I was worried about. The agent was very nice and explained exactly what she was doing. She was even a little less gropey when performing the pat-down. She explained that the wheel chair tested positive for chemical traces. They noticed that Mom Mom was older and likely not a terrorist but protocol indicated that they had to test their gloves after the pat-down just in case.
We anxiously waited, praying that Mom Mom wouldn't have to go through the same indignity that Eddie had to. After a minute or so the agent walks up to Mom Mom and asks her if she takes any medication as that was what the machine indicated. So Mom Mom rattled off the booklet of medication she takes on a daily basis. The TSA agent asks if any of them are liquid to which Mom Mom replied no.
This confused the TSA agent, who then mentioned that they will more than likely have to do further screening. As she was walking to get an airport wheel chair to transport Mom Mom to locations unknown, my brilliant brother says 'wait! Does ben-gay count?' The TSA agent said of course, the chemicals could very easily have set off the machines. We all look at each other and laugh. The near entire tube that Mom Mom applied the past week had seeped into the wheelchair, coating it in the chemicals and lotion.
Satisfied with our revelation, the TSA agent released us and let us continue on to our gate. It's amazing what sets off these machines. It's also amazing that most agents have little to no training on how to deal with the people they are 'investigating' and how far they are willing to go based on appearance. So lesson learned, be extremely careful before going through security. Hope that you get someone who has good interpersonal skills and who has been properly trained. And for gods sake, don't coat yourself in ben-gay!!!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Travel Drama
I'm leaving tomorrow for Key West. I'm really looking forward to the trip and to sun and warm weather. However, I have a raging panic attack that's been here for the last three days. I haven't always been a good flyer. Planes used to scare the crap out of me. In 2007 I was forced to overcome my fear when my job required travel to Texas and Germany and a family trip to Jamaica all occurred within a little over one month.
Since then I have enjoyed travel and flying. Until March of this year. I went on a cruise for my birthday. The cruise itself was fine. The flight home was what terrifying. The east coast was being hammered by storms the day we flew home. In the airport, we sat and watched as flight after flight was delayed. Our flight was not.
The start of the flight home was great, rather unremarkable. But as we got closer to LaGuardia airport we hit terrible turbulence. The plane was shaken left, right, up and down. The winds were so strong that you could feel the plane being pushed backwards. We circled the airport for what felt like an eternity (at least an hour) in this awful turbulence. The plane sounded like it was going to come apart at the scenes. People were getting sick, screaming and crying. I turned my phone and texted Eddie and said that I thought we were going to crash and that I loved him.
The pilot attempted to land several times, we heard the landing gear come down but we saw nothing but clouds and fog out the window. Not even the blink of the runway lights. LaGuardia kept giving the clear for us to land (we had an amazing flight crew who kept us up-to-date on what was going on.) After being pushed back on the last attempt to land, the pilot came over the speaker system and told us that despite LaGuardia's insistence that we land he was taking us to Philly International (which was closer to home for me than NYC, but was not an option as the airline we flew did not have a gate at PHL.)
Our crew was wonderful. But the stress of our experience caused one flight attendant to have a heart attack. One of the girls I was traveling with passed out from a panic attack brought on by extreme pressure from the experience. They made the call over the system asking for all doctors and nurses to report to the back of the plane. An off-duty attendant who was flying home on the airline took over her duties. Helped find alternate transportation, got everyone free drinks and did what he could to calm everyone down.
I thought I was going to die. It wasn't until we touched down on the tarmac at the airport that I felt relieved. And it wasn't until Eddie got home (he was in NYC waiting to pick us up so he had to drive back to our house while my father-in-law picked me up at the police station in the Philly airport) that it hit me exactly how terrified I was. All I said for a half-an-hour, between the sobs, was 'I never thought I was going to see you again.'
I know that the experience was unique and that it was a result of the weather and not the very capable flight crew. There were other flights that had similar issues and all airports in or around New York were redirected. I know that tomorrow, when I get on the plane that I'll have a safe journey. I know that. That flight should not be what I base all future travel on. So tomorrow, I'll just remind myself that I'm going to have a wonderful vacation with my family and that everything is going to be just fine.
Since then I have enjoyed travel and flying. Until March of this year. I went on a cruise for my birthday. The cruise itself was fine. The flight home was what terrifying. The east coast was being hammered by storms the day we flew home. In the airport, we sat and watched as flight after flight was delayed. Our flight was not.
The start of the flight home was great, rather unremarkable. But as we got closer to LaGuardia airport we hit terrible turbulence. The plane was shaken left, right, up and down. The winds were so strong that you could feel the plane being pushed backwards. We circled the airport for what felt like an eternity (at least an hour) in this awful turbulence. The plane sounded like it was going to come apart at the scenes. People were getting sick, screaming and crying. I turned my phone and texted Eddie and said that I thought we were going to crash and that I loved him.
The pilot attempted to land several times, we heard the landing gear come down but we saw nothing but clouds and fog out the window. Not even the blink of the runway lights. LaGuardia kept giving the clear for us to land (we had an amazing flight crew who kept us up-to-date on what was going on.) After being pushed back on the last attempt to land, the pilot came over the speaker system and told us that despite LaGuardia's insistence that we land he was taking us to Philly International (which was closer to home for me than NYC, but was not an option as the airline we flew did not have a gate at PHL.)
Our crew was wonderful. But the stress of our experience caused one flight attendant to have a heart attack. One of the girls I was traveling with passed out from a panic attack brought on by extreme pressure from the experience. They made the call over the system asking for all doctors and nurses to report to the back of the plane. An off-duty attendant who was flying home on the airline took over her duties. Helped find alternate transportation, got everyone free drinks and did what he could to calm everyone down.
I thought I was going to die. It wasn't until we touched down on the tarmac at the airport that I felt relieved. And it wasn't until Eddie got home (he was in NYC waiting to pick us up so he had to drive back to our house while my father-in-law picked me up at the police station in the Philly airport) that it hit me exactly how terrified I was. All I said for a half-an-hour, between the sobs, was 'I never thought I was going to see you again.'
I know that the experience was unique and that it was a result of the weather and not the very capable flight crew. There were other flights that had similar issues and all airports in or around New York were redirected. I know that tomorrow, when I get on the plane that I'll have a safe journey. I know that. That flight should not be what I base all future travel on. So tomorrow, I'll just remind myself that I'm going to have a wonderful vacation with my family and that everything is going to be just fine.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Please Mr(Ms?) Post Man!
I'm a celebrity gossip whore. I'll admit it. I'm really trying to get better. I completely stopped visiting websites by a certain Queen of All Media when I started to find his posts less about gossip and more about relentless bullying of, well. . .just about anybody. I occasionally find myself wandering over to Pink Is the New Blog as I find his gossip refreshing and not bullying at all. Plus, Trent blogs about his life which I find interesting and he is extremely gracious and real; something that is often lost in LaLa Land.
I used to, every Thursday at lunch, make my way to Target to pick up the Triumvirate of weekly magazines (US Weekly, People and InTouch) when it dawned on me that I could save a LOT of money if I just subscribed to the blasted magazines. Who was I kidding, I was hooked. For the longest time, it was perfect. I'd arrive home on Thursday, snuggle in after dinner and read all the celebrity news fit to print.
Then a strange thing started to happen. I'd get two magazines on Thursday and one on Friday, maybe Saturday. Then one week I'd get People on Monday, US Weekly on Saturday and then nothing. Worried that maybe my magazine slipped between boxes or accidentally went to a neighbor (it's happened before), I'd find myself in Target or the grocery store picking up InTouch. But then on Wednesday the prior weeks InTouch would end up in my mailbox.
I found it odd though, that I was getting my magazines (and really, it rotated each week) nearly a week after publication date and the day before the next issue would hit the news stands. I pay for a subscription to save money and to get them on or before the date they hit the news stands. And now, I'm spending more money to replace the missing magazine. So out of curiosity I called Customer Service of each magazine. Each time, I was told the same story. They try their best to ship their issues as close to newsstand date as possible and that a one to two day delay can be expected but a week was completely out of the ordinary and should not be happening. Because, really, who wants to read week old news?
I suspected that perhaps my mail carrier or someone in the sorting line wasperusing reading my magazines. Looking back, I've lost complete issues of monthly magazines and had to buy from the news stand or gotten copies that were so tattered and had complete pages missing or even pages dogeared.
Today, I found what I suspected, that I was in fact not the first reader of my magazines. As I was reading US Weekly, addressed to me, I happened upon a phone number written in red pen on one of the pages. At first I thought maybe this was something that is printed as part of the article. As I looked closer you could see the indentation from writing on the page behind it. I am LIVID.
Who the fuck do they think they are, stealing my mail?! If you're too cheap to buy the damn magazines - go to the fucking library. Hell, you can even have mine on Friday - AFTER I've read them first. Yes, in the end I get my magazines. But they're MINE, I don't want to read them a week late after you've gone through them. If you're doing that to my magazines, what else are you looking at?
So, added to my Monday To-Do List includes a call to the Post Master. Do I think they'll actually do something? Probably not, since there's no way to tell where in the process thisborrowing theft occurs. But maybe this complaint will at least result in a little bit more monitoring and the timely delivery of my mail.
I used to, every Thursday at lunch, make my way to Target to pick up the Triumvirate of weekly magazines (US Weekly, People and InTouch) when it dawned on me that I could save a LOT of money if I just subscribed to the blasted magazines. Who was I kidding, I was hooked. For the longest time, it was perfect. I'd arrive home on Thursday, snuggle in after dinner and read all the celebrity news fit to print.
Then a strange thing started to happen. I'd get two magazines on Thursday and one on Friday, maybe Saturday. Then one week I'd get People on Monday, US Weekly on Saturday and then nothing. Worried that maybe my magazine slipped between boxes or accidentally went to a neighbor (it's happened before), I'd find myself in Target or the grocery store picking up InTouch. But then on Wednesday the prior weeks InTouch would end up in my mailbox.
I found it odd though, that I was getting my magazines (and really, it rotated each week) nearly a week after publication date and the day before the next issue would hit the news stands. I pay for a subscription to save money and to get them on or before the date they hit the news stands. And now, I'm spending more money to replace the missing magazine. So out of curiosity I called Customer Service of each magazine. Each time, I was told the same story. They try their best to ship their issues as close to newsstand date as possible and that a one to two day delay can be expected but a week was completely out of the ordinary and should not be happening. Because, really, who wants to read week old news?
I suspected that perhaps my mail carrier or someone in the sorting line was
Today, I found what I suspected, that I was in fact not the first reader of my magazines. As I was reading US Weekly, addressed to me, I happened upon a phone number written in red pen on one of the pages. At first I thought maybe this was something that is printed as part of the article. As I looked closer you could see the indentation from writing on the page behind it. I am LIVID.
Who the fuck do they think they are, stealing my mail?! If you're too cheap to buy the damn magazines - go to the fucking library. Hell, you can even have mine on Friday - AFTER I've read them first. Yes, in the end I get my magazines. But they're MINE, I don't want to read them a week late after you've gone through them. If you're doing that to my magazines, what else are you looking at?
So, added to my Monday To-Do List includes a call to the Post Master. Do I think they'll actually do something? Probably not, since there's no way to tell where in the process this
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday Flip Off 11/19/10
A couple of blogs I follow Ash and MommaKiss do this, I figured why the hell not. I'm such a lemming, and a late follower. So, without further ado. . .
A big flip off to the man behind me in the theatre earlier this evening. Eddie decided it would be nice to come home with tickets to see Harry Potter before the crowds of people show up, so on his way home from school he picked up our tickets for the 4pm show. We hardly go to the theatre (I have difficulty sitting comfortably in one spot for long periods of time)so I was looking forward to the evening. I'm pretty tolerant of kids talking during movies, getting up and running to the bathroom and all that other stuff. I mean, they're kids, they're not doing it intentionally. What I don't like is adults who are inconsiderate. Every 5 minutes throughout the movie I hear what can only be described as Snuffulupagus with a runny nose. Look. I know it's cold and flu season and sometimes we get runny noses. But seriously, bring tissues if you're nose is running like a faucet or go grab some napkins or something. Nobody wants to hear your nasal juices being forcibly sucked back into your body. Even better, do us healthy people a favor and stay home til you feel better. Harry Potter will still be there when you're able to contain your snot inside your body. Nobody wants to get what you have.
A big flip off to seat kickers. Yeah, Snot Man is also a seat kicker. There is nothing more aggravating than sitting in front of someone who can't sit still. If you are too tall to cram yourself into the row of chairs you need to sit on the aisle. There's nothing like watching a movie and being pushed back and forth by your fidgety feet.
Pretty trivial flip offs for a pretty boring week. But, it was enough to piss me off. No Friday Flip Off next week, I'll be in Sunny Key West. Hopefully with my feet in the sand a drink in my hand and the sun on my face. Or just drunk. I'll settle for that, too.
If you're gonna Flip, make sure you link!
A big flip off to the man behind me in the theatre earlier this evening. Eddie decided it would be nice to come home with tickets to see Harry Potter before the crowds of people show up, so on his way home from school he picked up our tickets for the 4pm show. We hardly go to the theatre (I have difficulty sitting comfortably in one spot for long periods of time)so I was looking forward to the evening. I'm pretty tolerant of kids talking during movies, getting up and running to the bathroom and all that other stuff. I mean, they're kids, they're not doing it intentionally. What I don't like is adults who are inconsiderate. Every 5 minutes throughout the movie I hear what can only be described as Snuffulupagus with a runny nose. Look. I know it's cold and flu season and sometimes we get runny noses. But seriously, bring tissues if you're nose is running like a faucet or go grab some napkins or something. Nobody wants to hear your nasal juices being forcibly sucked back into your body. Even better, do us healthy people a favor and stay home til you feel better. Harry Potter will still be there when you're able to contain your snot inside your body. Nobody wants to get what you have.
A big flip off to seat kickers. Yeah, Snot Man is also a seat kicker. There is nothing more aggravating than sitting in front of someone who can't sit still. If you are too tall to cram yourself into the row of chairs you need to sit on the aisle. There's nothing like watching a movie and being pushed back and forth by your fidgety feet.
Pretty trivial flip offs for a pretty boring week. But, it was enough to piss me off. No Friday Flip Off next week, I'll be in Sunny Key West. Hopefully with my feet in the sand a drink in my hand and the sun on my face. Or just drunk. I'll settle for that, too.
If you're gonna Flip, make sure you link!
Public Grope
Next Wednesday morning, way earlier than I'd like to be awake, I'll be going through security so I can board a plane and go on our family vacation. I'm prepared for the TSA 'Gate Rape' should they require to do one. What I'm NOT prepared for, the challenge I have now, is explaining what is going to happen to my 90-year-old grandmother who has difficulty standing and walking. Which will pretty much assure that she get the special treatment by TSA.
My 90-year-old grandmother who is the furthest thing from a terrorist. Who grew up in an age where touching someone meant so much more than it does now. She worries needlessly so my mom and I are purposefully not commenting on the news reports. But we're going to have to say something to her at some point. I don't want to wheel her right up and say 'surprise MM, you're getting groped for Thanksgiving.
My 90-year-old grandmother who is the furthest thing from a terrorist. Who grew up in an age where touching someone meant so much more than it does now. She worries needlessly so my mom and I are purposefully not commenting on the news reports. But we're going to have to say something to her at some point. I don't want to wheel her right up and say 'surprise MM, you're getting groped for Thanksgiving.
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