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2011-04-11 - 8:32 p.m.


My Day Blew Chunks

Here's the chunk blow-by-blow:

1) The calls starting rolling in for the condemned apartment building on our radar. Apparently fliers with our contact info are being passed around at the complex. *stomach churning* 3 intakes completed.

2) Older woman left 5 (count 'em) messages in the space of less than an hour. The first three messages (left on the attorney's voice mail and forwarded to me) said it was about an "urgent matter." The last two were left on the eviction line, each nearly 3 minutes long, with virtually the same details in each. I called her back as soon as I had her info logged into the system (I was terrified she'd leave another message before I could call her back). Once I got to asking her about her financial info...she couldn't remember how much she got for Social Security and how much for Disability. Something about her younger son always movin' her papers around. At one point, she was digging around saying "Jesus Christ! I just had it here!" *regurgitation sequence begins*

3) Called back a hickwad about his eviction situation about 20 minutes before lunch. He started off by saying "it's a long story" and then "you ain't gonna BELIEVE what they done to ME! I mean...you ain't gonna BUUUULEEVE it!" And I'm all "Uh huh, right, so what's the situation?" TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER and 4 pages of notes later, I had the story. And his financial & personal info. But I couldn't type that all up till after lunch because we get in troubs if we work into our lunch hour.

So basically, he's an fuckin' moron. Something about a grandma who needed help in North Carolina, and there have been 3 landlords since he's lived there, and there ain't been no trouble in 5 years. But the landlord got up his face (right before he was leaving for grandma's) about his 2 dogs. He says they are therapy dogs. He's bi-polar, hence they are therapeutic and he's got a doctor's note to prove it. Uh huh. No one never said not NUTHIN' about them dogs before (thems caged AND trained!) Landlord didn't ask no one else to get rid of their dogs (that weren't even therapeutic!) so she's biased and hates him and blah blah. Then he starts mentioning stuff about being behind on his rent for 3 months...and how it's government subsidized...and that rent is $39/month. Yes. THIRTY-NINE DOLLARS A MONTH. He doesn't work, except for odd jobs. His "woman" (yes, he actually referred to her as his WOMAN) doesn't work. They have a kid. They get food stamps. The guy is two years younger than I am. So I'm thinking...let me get this straight: Neither one of you is employed. Your rent is $39/month yet you are 3 months behind on said rent, but you have enough money to feed 2 dogs and drive to grandma's in NC (who offered to pay the back rent if he went and helped her), but you're bitching because this GOV'T ASSISTED PROGRAM THAT KEEPS A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD (which you can't pay for anyway) has a strict policy about having DOGS, service or otherwise. To make matters worse, he peppered the entire conversation with the phase "you get what I'm sayin?!" about 100 times. No man, I don't. *stomach juices rising in back of my throat*

4) Right as I went to pick up the phone to call someone back, I picked up at the exact moment someone had phoned in (I HATE when that happens) so I was all awkwardly, "uh hello? Oh, I mean, yes this is blah blah blah blah blerg blerg." And I have the most excellent timing because GUESS WHO WAS ON THE LINE? A mental patient!! I'm totally not kidding either! Yay! Lucky for me, she was a highly functioning one, as she explained in great detail. She was all paranoid and covert though. I still don't even know why the fuck she was calling. Something about wanting some to have legal guardianship over her because "they" were mean and she was scared...but apparently she's been in some type of "special housing" (as she put it) for 8 years, but only phoned Adult Protection and Advocacy 30 minutes before she called me. After further discussion, she really made it seem like she was NOT in a mental hospital. Kinda like independent living and she LOVED her place (right near Kroger!) except she had to deal with THEM, the mean women who ran the program. I don't friggin' know. I gave her a bunch of resource numbers, she was very polite...albeit talkative with the tendency to overuse proverbs like "no one's watching the hen house..." (although her version was something about chicks) and about 4 other I can't remember but they weren't even frequently used ones. So we hang up...10 seconds later she called back. I ignored it. She called again. Ignore. She called AGAIN. I picked up. She had another question for me. She prattled on for 20 minutes. I felt like I was in an episode of the X-Files with all her covert "I can't tell you, because I'm afraid they'll find out," blah blah more screwy proverbs,"I'm severely mentally ill but I'm smart and people don't like that," THEM THEM THEM, mention of her therapist, something about volunteering at a hospital (since when do they let mentally ill folks volunteer at hospitals???), "I'm a Christian and I don't know if that means anything to you" (I said nothing), "but it means something to me." *SPEW*

Weirdest thing, she's the most intelligent caller I've spoken with in a loooong time. I kept wanting to ask if her real name was Sybil though. Tee hee. (You know, the real Sybil -- Shirely Ardell Mason -- relocated here to Lexington. She passed away in 1998. I've seen some of her artwork up close. A friend of mine was storing a few pieces in his bookstore for a guy who'd collected them for future display).

Anyhoo...all that was about 1/3 of my day.

You don't even wanna know about the dude who keeps coming by and calling about his unemployment appeal. He's all pushy and argumentative and upset over some goddamn sentence in his denial letter citing a case in Wisconsin from 1941. He's a bit like Chris Rock in his intensity -- only not funny. Especially if you were sitting a foot away from him while he bounced around the lobby with his voice booming across the hallways: "This is KEN-TUCKY, a'ight? What does Wisconsin haffa do widdit? Seeum sayin? 1941?! Them discrimination laws din even EXIST then, seeum sayin?" (Whatever the letter is referencing via that case, I think it has to do with a whole other portion of employment law, but I wasn't about to try to point it out to him).

Plus, I'm not a lawyer and I don't even play one on TV.

Boo hiss.


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