Saturday, April 11, 2015

Telenovella level disasters
Forget your favorite telenovella - my life just became a new level of messed up. I live for your entertainment.

I am not a person who takes the news well that there are insects living inside the walls of the apartment below mine. I am also not a person who takes the news well that a third restaurant is opening in my little courtyard -- a birreria/beer joint where people will get drunk while live music plays until 1 a.m.

In light of these new and unpleasant developments, I called my landlord who said he would be in touch with the downstairs landlords and come pay me a visit this week. In the meantime, I have become a nervous wreck. It doesn't help that it is the olive blooming season when my eyes swell up and my left ear stops working and I feel like I am underwater. I know, I know it is funny that I picked Tuscany of all places to find out that I had an olive allergy.

This morning I had a really dramatic panic attack thinking about the apartment exchange agreements we have already made with two families for the summer in other parts of Europe.

First I have to back up and explain that during the week I started calling around to different rental agents to get an idea of what's out there -- nothing -- and what the prices look like -- high. I had forgotten that I had saved one advertisement in my computer history, so today I called it. It turns out that the owner of the downstairs apartment's girlfriend, aside from being a horrible, filthy, bad karma person, is also a real estate agent. Luckily I had only explained that I lived in a noisy area when I asked for her name and realized to whom I was speaking. She told me that she already had my number in her phone. I told her that we knew each other and hung up. As I was hanging up, I heard her say Why, what's wrong, you think I did something to you? 

A little while later I got a text message from her and it said that since she considered herself a very upright and upstanding person she was going to give me the opportunity to explain my rude behavior. I wrote a long and impressive text telling her that she was not an upstanding citizen and that she had behaved deplorably by tricking my nice new neighbors to move into an infested apartment, giving us fleas five years ago, and recently trickling black paint onto the new, white umbrella of the restaurant downstairs when she lazily decided to throw black paint at the apartment's terazzo fence.

Before I pushed SEND on my message, I went downstairs to the neighbors to ask them to look at the message for Italian language mistakes and general tone issues. They told me that another other real estate agency said that this is a crazy woman who took off before repaying them money that she owes them and they advised me not to write to her at all. I cancelled my message. F had told me to put her number in my phone just to be sure that we don't call it or pick up a call from her by mistake. I put it in my phone under the letter T for That Bitch.

A few minutes later I heard the unmistakeable but ominous tones of my phone telling me that That Bitch was writing to me. She wrote a long angry message saying that she had figured out who I was. And the best part is, she was completely wrong! That is because I have good karma, I think.  She wrote a bunch of crazy things about some lady and her fiance who had threatened her on a different street some time ago. Whew.

F came up with a plan to save our beautiful apartment which is worth at least 300 euros more than what we pay for it. It all comes down to the good will of our landlord. He could protect us from the noise by putting double glass on the front windows and from the bugs by sending a different rival disinfestation company to make sure there are no bugs in the walls downstairs. In fact, we are beginning to suspect that Norman, the bug man of Lucca, scares people into thinking problems are worse than they are and then only resolving them a little at a time to earn the most money possible. Can you say stress in Italian? In Italian the word for stress is um stress. Now you know.

No comments: