August 05, 2002~~9:53 p.m.
SCREWED!!!
There are two good things to say about our day in court, and they are: 1. I have been reminded as to why it was that I decided to flee screaming and in a fit of vehemence from law school and 2. that there is only one way for Maria�s budding law career to go and that is UP! Yeah. LimpNoodleSteve won. I know. It�s SUCH a pisser. So to backtrack a tad, about mid-July, I was forced, due to the Whisler Land Company policy of lying, cheating and stealing their way to the top of the list of �Gay and Gay Friendly Realtors� at �Findagaybusinessman.com� or something (seriously�I found them posted on this gay friendly listing site when I did a Google search for �Whisler Land Company� yes, WHISLER LAND COMPANY, our former and shitty landlords whom we unsuccessfully SUED this morning!!! Did you need me to repeat it? NOT FagPosse Land Co. as previously protected in this here diary�but WHISLER LAND COMPANY IN SACRAMENTO CALIFORNIA!!!!!!) to write them a letter requesting the receipts for the four cleaning bills we were charged for, which they had promised us in our fateful meeting with them. I also requested copies of their �high resolution photos� (so-called by Robert Winger in a letter to me and Maria�ha! �high resolution!� ha! They were fucking DIGITAL pictures. I don�t know much, but I think Mr. Wanger�er�Winger was just trying to use a big word in his skimpy letter to intimidate us into not suing him. But alas, we sallied forth with a renewed vigor to kick the shit out of Limpy! So I sent this letter, requesting things Whisler had already promised to send right? And what should I receive in the mail a few days later but only two of the four receipts. Why, you ask? Well, dear reader, one would assume that would be because the other two receipts were likely NON-EXISTENT because the services had never been rendered upon little 1812 H St. And accompanying these two receipts for water-marked linoleum (or, �lino� as Steve says, for short) and dirty blinds was a request for us to pay THEM $106!!! Um, hello? Weren�t you the idiot who returned too much money to us out of our deposit then, Steve Jacksoffalot? Okay. Just checking. So here we were, faced with our looming court date and a bill for an extra $100 which we most CERTAINLY do not have to either of our names. But luckily for us, we figured this contested amount would rear its ugly head in court and the problem would be solved for us the day the rest of the mess would be. So fast-forward to this morning, August 5, 2002, 8:30 a.m., Sacramento County Small Claims court. Maria and I, dressed to the nines, awaiting Limpy�s arrival. We were peering curiously over the ledge of the balcony that looked over the court lobby when we glimpsed the morning light flickering suggestively off Limpy�s balding head. The light danced fearlessly in between the strands of his gray combover�as if to say �hahaha Limpy! You can run but you cannot hide from the rigors of age! Hahahahahahahahahaha!� It was then that our stomachs sank. Until then, we had been hopeful that Steve would be a no-show to our court date and we would be able to scamper off in glee and $400 richer. But it was not to be. LimpNoodleSteve arrived 5 minutes late and in a nerdy Whisler Land Company polo shirt with his glasses attached to the back of his neck with a glasses-keeper. So we all filed into the courtroom, which was saturated with white trash aplenty. I could devote an entire diary just to the fashion faux pas present in that room this morning, not to mention the fake hair clinging for dear life to the trashy blonde woman�s head who was even more pissed off at HER landlord than we were at ours. But I won�t bring that up. I also won�t bring up the plastic mules the Russian lady was wearing, complete with the Largest Band-Aids Ever atop her feet in hopes of protecting herself from the rubbing of plastic on skin. But I won�t bring that up here. No, I will not. We were shown a video about small claims court and how to present our case. Then a law student came out and spoke of the glamour and ingenuity of mediation. Then we were set loose out into the lobby again to �exchange evidence� and �attempt to come to agreements.� �Dammit� we thought. We have to face Steve and there�s no getting around it. We should�ve known that our mini-meeting with Steve would be equally annoying in a mere 22.5 seconds as any other interaction we�d ever had with him, but I was unprepared for just how limp he would be. Whereas we had our folder with all the correspondence all put together for the judge in chronological order, Limpy only had his messy folder with a bunch of shit all shoved into it. And then he opens his wormy mouth and whines, �I have this piiiicture of the bathroom lino�and the letter requesting the extra $100 from you�and the move-in sheet which does NOT say anything about the baaaaathroom floor!� Um, no shit, huh? We never said the bathroom �lino� (quite possibly, the most irritating word on the face of the planet, especially when uttered in a whine from Steve�s despicable mouth) was stained when we moved in, we�re only saying that it wasn�t our problem that it ended up stained when we left! Then he says, �So that�s it, right?! That�s it! Right? RIGHT?? That�s it!� And he limps off. Um, what the hell just happened here??!! Was it just me or did Limpy try to exert some forcefulness? I THINK that�s what that was, but I�m not sure. All I�m sure of is that he just defies the laws of nature and continues to get more and more FUCKING ANNOYING AS THE DAYS GO BY!!!!! So to make this long, sordid story short, we�re standing in front of a wannabe judge who has already made comments pointing at the fact that he is prejudiced against tenants and VERY pro-landlord. We are doomed. LimpNoodleSteve claims that the �lino� (he says this in COURT about 5 times which only serves to point an even larger arrow to the fact that he is a full-fledged idiot who cannot pronounce the entire word �linoleum�) was in fact moldy, not just water-stained as he had said before, and when the judge looked at our lease, sure enough, the fine print said something about it being our responsibility to prevent mold. Um, hello? The �lino� wasn�t moldy, it was just stained. And what about the black mold growing in my bedroom carpet? Oh yeah. That. Remember when I pointed it out to Limpy on the move-out tour and how he ignored me? And here he is, explaining to the judge (who, we have a theory, he was giving head to only moments before) that Whisler is �very concerned about mold.� Whatever. Fuck you, dude. So basically, there wasn�t much more we could say. The judge had made up his mind and Limpy was the winner. We walked out of the courtroom and had to comfort ourselves with the mere knowledge that we wasted a good 2 hours of his Monday morning. It was only later that I wished we�d ridden down in the elevator with LimpNoodle�if only to have the chance to say �Limpy, thanks for the laughs, for being Number One on the shit list for 3 months running, for the gay landlord jokes, and mostly, for the never ending hope that I will meet you at Faces sometime and can finally and without fail say, �Hey LimpNoodleSteve! Sack up recently?� And Maria reminded me of a E. Zapata quote that says something like this: �It�s better to die fighting than to live on your knees.� And in this case, by God, we weren�t going to be on our knees in front of Limpy! Although, according to �findagaylandlord.com,� he apparently doesn�t mind.
|
