I pounded on the door again.
He opened it a crack.
“You have to provide notice of lease violations,” I said. “You can’t just say there were some and not give a person time to correct them.”
“Rest assured I have a paper trail.”
“I never received anything,” I shot back.
“You did. I have video footage of me putting it in your apartment,” he retorted. “Good fuckin’ luck fighting a judge on it.”
The nerve.
I stomped back home. What was I going to do? I had literally tons of dirt and plants in the courtyard. I couldn’t just pack it all up and move it. I had spent years nurturing the plants, coaxing them to grow in the harsh urban environment. But I also couldn’t afford to have an eviction on my record. I literally wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else even halfway decent to rent.
I angrily searched through the tiny apartment. I surely wouldn’t have missed a lease-violation notice. But even though the apartment was small, I had still managed to pack it full of stuff. After half an hour of searching, I found a stack of letters stuck behind the fridge, and in the stack were several notices, which I had assumed were late-rent notices.
“Shoot,” I said as yet another bad decision came around to throw a pie in my face.
I didn’t like dealing with bills or bad news and tended to file those types of letters away to be dealt with when I had been fortified with chocolate and wine. That hadn’t happened, and with all the craziness of the start of wedding season, I had practiced out-of-sight, out-of-mind self-care.
I opened the slightly moldy letter and scanned it.
Amy Reynolds, this is your fourth notice of the following violations: an illegal animal, unauthorized plants, unauthorized pet fish, and junk in the courtyard that must be removed immediately.
“That rat-faced bastard.”
Amy:I’m going to be homeless.
Elsie:Get a lawyer.
Amy:Can’t afford one.
Amy:Also, he sent a ton of notices I ignored.
Ivy:I told you to stop shoving your mail behind the fridge.
Amy:I have a problem!
Sophie:I’ll bake you cupcakes. You can go bribe him.
Amy:It’s hopeless.
Amy:He said he would evict me if I didn’t move out.
Ivy:Low blow. You’ll never be able to rent again!
Grace:You can move in with my grandmother, if you don’t mind her candle making.
Amy:Is she still making candles that smell like her vag?
Grace:*sigh* Yes.
Amy:Hard pass.
Amy:Maybe I should move back to Harrogate. Maybe this is a sign.
Ivy:But we need you here!
