Baffled

That’s been my word of the weekend.  I have no idea how many times I’ve muttered it – a lot.  Just ask Darc, I’m sure he’s sick of hearing it.

Here’s what happened: the manager of our complex called us and said she needed to speak to us about “a sensitive matter.”  Well, naturally we started freaking out.  Darc went to the office to speak to her and she told him that one of our neighbors complained about us.  Naturally she didn’t say who.  She went on to say they were upset about a smell they claimed was coming from our apartment.  You can imagine how horrified we were.  A smell?  From us?  That’s like the ultimate in humiliating.  Definite cringe worthy.  So Darc asked her to please come over and see if she could help us identify what the problem might be so we could address it.  God forbid we don’t want anyone to think we smell!  He also wanted to show her that we’re not living in some kind of squalor here, with trash piled to the ceiling. 

So she came over, walked around – we even showed her the inside of the oven so she could see we didn’t have a mess in there.  That’s what the complaint was – an old cooking oil smell they said happens whenever we open our patio door.  Imagine that with me for a moment, if you will – management checking out the inside of your oven.  Is that like the tenant doctor’s exam or what?  Nerve wracking, to say the least.  She said our over looked fine, our place looked fine, she couldn’t smell anything.  Seems the neighbors said they could smell it all the way at the sidewalk, which is about 10’ from the door.  We were baffled, she was baffled, and said she’d tell them she checked it out and couldn’t find the source of their complaint. 

We know who it is and half wish we could talk to them directly about it, but we know they wouldn’t feel comfortable with that.  They’re good neighbors, and according to the manager, they said we were good neighbors, except for this one thing.  We’re not angry or anything, because absolutely if we were causing a problem we’d want to take care of it.  They pay rent too, you know?  And have a right to enjoy their place same as us. 

I cleaned out the oven that night, just in case – can’t be too careful type of thing.  We went over the next day to talk to her again and tell her that we’d cleaned the oven.  Really, I’m baffled, because we hardly ever open the patio door – Darc and I just don’t do heat very well.  No one else could smell anything so I don’t know what the source of this is, but the manager is sure it’s not us.  So on one hand that makes me feel better – if still baffled – but on the other hand, I feel bad for the neighbors.  I mean obviously they’re smelling something or they wouldn’t have called management, right?  So I don’t know.

What made me laugh the most though was when we went back to talk to the manager a 2nd time, after she kept reassuring us that we’re “not doing anything wrong, don’t do anything different” – Darc looked her straight in the eye and asked, “So, do you think the dead bodies we’ve hidden in the closets could be causing the smell?”

Oh my gosh the look on her face!  Just that split second before she realized he was joking, priceless!  Then she busted up laughing.  🙂

 

 

Some labor day history:  The Sad Story Behind Labor Day and Grover Cleveland – Labor unrest