It's gettin' hawt in hurr (That's a complete lie.) - Apricot

My landlord is a scumbag. Like, my rent is really cheap, and my place is pretty big and has some nice features and whatever. But, despite all of that.. it’s missing one key ingredient.

Heat.

Yes, you’ve read it. It’s missing the essential component of comfortable living in Manitoba, where it’s -40 like, 11 months of the year. 

Anyway, I know I have to have maintenance of like, 20 degrees or something between the 1^st of September, and the 1^st of June. Which, in Manitoba means that for June, when it snows – you’re shit out of luck.

Anyway, so after politely asking my landlord when the heat is going to arrive, and then reminding him a few times that my apartment still does not have the ability to be heated, I have decided to take revenge the  best way I know how – effectively. 

Now, I should note, that I brought a space heater with me when I moved because my office in North Bay was icy at all times. I was worried that my office in Manitoba would be the same – the Landlord also supplied me with a space heater ‘in case I got cold’ when I moved in and I thought: ‘Okay, well I’ll put one in the living area, and one in my bedroom, and that should do me just fine until we get the mess sorted out.’ Well, the heat isn’t working because when they renovated.. or ‘renovated’, they disconnected the radiators, and installed these new efficient electric heating panels. Which, are great – but they aren’t hooked up to anything, so.. they’re purely for decoration. So, they don’t have the new panel hooked up properly, so only half of the outlets in the apartment work, which means I had to be very selective of where I put stuff I needed to plug in. 

If by chance, I plug too many things in, or have too many things running at the same time (for instance, the coffee maker and the toaster) it knocks the power out in the whole apartment, and the panel is locked up in the storage room. Lucky for me, he showed me where the panel was, and which switch to flick should there be an issue. Unlucky for me, he locks it behind these annoying, cheap wood slat doors. I however, am not afraid of a challenge, so I usually climb up on the gate, stick my arm through and mash buttons until the power switches back on in my place. I also swear a lot. 

So, we have the added loveliness of a dodgy power supply, which means that I can’t actually run the two space heaters at the same time (1 in the bedroom and 1 in the living room) because it knocks the power out. So, I am forced to warm up the living room, and actually PRE-HEAT my bedroom when I go to bed, because it’s hard to sleep when your breath comes out in clouds. It’s seriously annoying. 

Anyway, so as we approach the winter season, this will be my first winter in Manitoba, and I’m nervous. I did buy and bring a parka (yes, a ‘two piece’ parka for those of you who keep asking me what kind of parka) but that doesn’t really mean that I want to wear it inside, and also to bed. I’ve come up with some ways that I’m going to get back at the bastard for being annoying about my power supply and heating situation. (and yes, I’ll be calling the tenant board, so please don’t email me phone numbers and make comments about the fact that I’m too daft to figure out the phone to just ring them myself.) 

1.       There is a strict no-dog policy in effect in my building. I’ve decided to have my laptop announce when I get an e-mail, and set the alert as a series of annoying, barking dog noises. I’m then going to hook the computer up to the speakers I have, turn it up to full blast, and spend my work day emailing myself to set off the notification. I’m then going to act dodgy, yell commands like “SIT!” when I’m home, and laugh when the neighbours (who are also afraid of dogs) complain and have the landlord come and check it out. I’ve not set a time limit on this, I think it would be fun to have it go on for the duration of my stay.

2.       I’ve had water issues in the past. The landlord came, patched up the roof and the water was no longer a problem. Well, it’s unfortunate that suddenly every time it rains, there ends up being exactly one large cupful of water on the floor suddenly. I plan to ‘notice the water’, call the landlord in an uncharacteristically frantic, and damsel –in-distress kind of way, and after he drives out the hour it takes to get here, I’ll have him up on the roof looking for the ‘source of the water’. This will go on for a few times, and then I will one day call and exclaim happily that the water is finally fixed, and thank him immensely. Suddenly, hottest day of the year, not a cloud in the sky – water is back! (insert evil laugh)

3.       Successfully  complete the damage-deposit inspection so I can get my cheque back, and then steal inconspicuous things such as the clothes rod in the closet (which is huge, and custom made), some switch plates, the showerhead and perhaps some shelves out of the cupboards. Yeah, that’ll show him.

4.       Again, after completing the deposit inspection, I will then take a very nice and clean paint brush, and some water in a nice bucket, and paint huge wet spots on the newly plastered ceiling.

5.       There’s a weird space above the window in my living room, as well as in the bedroom. Because I’m in a walk-down, the windows are quite high and actually brush up to the ceiling. If you look through the window, there is a small ledge where the new ceiling was built slightly below the cusp of the top of both windows. It should also be noted that I have all the windows frosted out, so you can’t actually see through them anymore. Perfect. This spot is ideal for hiding keys or valuables, in case you have a break in or whatever. It’s also great for hiding a banana in each ledge, because I’m very worried about stealing my beloved fruit. I will then move out, and forget they are up there, and suddenly not understand why the apartment stinks because when I lived there it smelled fine.

6.       I have some strong friends, and I own some cool tools. I’m going to use both to tighten all the taps in the apartment on move out day, soooo tight that they are impossible to unstick via regular human hands/strength.

7.       I’m going to clean the stove so well, that all of the numbers and temperature indicators are cleaned off, and there is no way to tell which nob does what, or how hot the oven is. Nothing a little nail polish remover and a cheap kitchen appliance can’t handle.

8.       I’m going to bake a delicious pizza, and let it cool in the oven.. for about 6 weeks.

9.       I’m going to switch all the breakers on the breaker panel (provided he gets it hooked up finally..) so they are obviously in the ‘off’ position.

10.   I will then remove all of the light bulbs in the entire apartment, and put all of the light covers back on as though nothing was changed. The lights won’t work, and they’ll think: ‘genius, the panel has been switched!’ and switch the panel back. I wish I could see their faces when the success of the panel switching mysteriously doesn’t solve the lighting problem.

11.   I’m going to switch the lock quietly when I move out, and make a big production of handing the keys back to landlord. Meanwhile, I’m going to leave and lock the door with new lock and the new keys, and throw the new keys in the dumpster.   

12.   Red dye in the toilet tank, making the toilet super hard to clean. Or, just red. Or, well, I haven’t thought that one through, but hopefully it stains or is kind of, just a pain.

13.   Finally, I’m going to paint the apartment 1 shade darker than the current paint colour, but adding some of my own mix so it still doesn’t match an actual store colour - so you can’t tell that it’s different (it’s all the same colour) and hang some pictures. Then, when I move out and he goes to paint over the cracks and holes in the plaster, I’m going to laugh at his inability to match up the paint.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking: ‘God Erin, you’re actually just a big fuckin’ dick.’ And my response is ‘Yes, I am a big fuckin’ dick, but I wouldn’t have an issue if I wasn’t stuck in a walk-down in Manitoba, in the winter WITH NO HEAT.’  

Your move, landlord.