The Sh*t L*st

Just when I thought I was out of things to fulminate about and against, I found a message on my answering maching this afternoon from one of the leasing office managers (I think everyone working there is a manager) reminding me that I had not returned the guest key that I had checked out and that "it is now over a week due [giggle]."

I immediately returned the call and informed the manager (who is named after a day of the week) that I had turned it on the day it was due. (Why we are not allowed a second copy of our keys is a matter too philosophical to be taken up here.) She replied, "Well, hmmm, the key is not on its hook and it was not recorded as having been turned in."

"I assure you that I turned it in," I said, assuring her that I had turned it in.

"Hmmm... I don't have any record of it," she replied, then paused as if to give me a chance to confess to whole disappearance. "Well," she continued, "I will have to look into this. Will you be signing you lease next week?" Because of some changes in the languages of the lease, brought on no doubt by tenant protests about something or other -- the flyer mentioned terms related to construction and additional residents -- everyone has to resign a lease. I told her that I would. "I'll let you know what I find out then." I can hardly wait.

Incidentally, this was the same key that unlocked my door to flu and misery during the holidays. If they were smart, they incinerated the key and scattered the ashes (but filed a record somewhere of their actions.)