It’s official: my *relationship* with my former landlords is OVER, as of yesterday. Meaning, yesterday I finally received my security deposit, thus ending any necessary communication with said landlords. (Never mind that she promised she’d “put the check in the mail first thing in the morning” over two weeks ago. Postal date stamps don’t lie.) I was pretty happy to finally get the check, seeing as how it was for a not-so-insubstantial dollar figure. Even though she couldn’t be bothered to, you know, write in the cents when she was writing the amount. Apparently that’s too time-consuming. I can’t wait for the bank to get all anal-retentive over that one.
The thing that amazed me most, though (although deep inside, I know it shouldn’t), is the vessel she used to mail the deposit. You would think that a professional woman, with her own real estate “business,” could at least spring for a semi-professional envelope, maybe even (*gasp*!) of the security type. Apparently not. No, instead I received my hefty check in the return envelope from her latest bill from her insurance company. Of the window variety, meaning you could see my happy check hanging out inside, because she (naturally) couldn’t be bothered to accompany the check with even a short note of some kind, you know, “Nice doing business with you!” or even, “Have a good life!”
As I thought about it, the whole thing pretty much summed up my entire experience with the woman, the house, everything. It involved her taking the least amount of her time doing as little as possible for as cheaply as possible, to hoop with everyone else. Which makes me ever more glad that I am finally, finally done.
Nice doing business with you, Cornelia. Have a good life.