Apartment Managers: Canada’s Answer to Mussolini

September 18, 2020
Can you say fascist dictator?

It’s an old saw that we don’t learn from history, but the repetition of bad behaviour in the extreme during a world pandemic is unconscionable by those in power of anything.

Power. There it is. Tin Pot dictators who have their paw on a tiny little lever they insist is theirs to control. Hmmmm….there’s that other word: control, controlling people because they think they can.

I’ve come to the conclusion that mine is a pangolin. Human, so called, in dirty cowboy boots. There are over 200 people living in what once was a luxurious apartment in the l960s. Try getting your toilet fixed after three - ignored - requests. It’s simply unacceptable.

We’re all under stress. So, when people are given the responsibility to take care of others, let’s say - oh, I don’t know - by being resident managers, they are accountable to those of us who pay rent. Their pay check, basically. It’s not complicated. And, shouldn’t be.

But this guy, the aforementioned pangolin, has a history of preying on single, senior women as a bully and that shit has to stop. It’s just one slap away from being a Me-Too-Thug. In my particular case, his nose is out of joint because I didn’t address him by his first name one day. He wasn’t a pangolin then, but he quickly turned into one two months ago when the maintenance team pronounced my refrigerator dead beyond repair…finally…after two days of ‘being jettisoned to the poo’poo pile of his renowned desk. The pangolin desk of inequity.

One woman friend says the maintenance in her apartment was ignored until she left a gift token at his door. Of course, Mrs. Pangolin is an accessory to all crimes, contributing much to the mayhem of manipulating residents. She who sits outside smoking her cigarettes in defiance of the No Smoking sign.

I solved my problem by going to the Covid Police at City Hall. I said not repairing my toilet was a ‘health and safety issue’ and they agreed. Think of it. That’s what we’ve come to. There are probably 12 fill-valves in the basement, but Pangolin Man deems it unworthy of his time. He’s under stress? I don’t think so.

Just do your job.

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