I spent the last two years in a cozy apartment within a modest building. The place lacked a communal laundry facility, but it did offer connections for a personal washer and dryer. Given my job at an animal refuge, where I often end up quite soiled, investing in these appliances seemed essential.
Just the other day, after a playful yet muddy chase with one of our resident wild boars named Bacon, the necessity of having my own laundry machines was undeniable.
My boyfriend, Rick, had just proposed, and we were thrilled about him moving in with me. However, upon sharing our news with the landlord, Miles, he declared that the rent would double, justifying it by claiming, “they have two incomes.”
“This isn’t fair!” I argued. “Why should our rent double just because I’m getting married?”
Miles was unyielding. “That’s the policy. Take it or leave it.”
After deliberating, Rick and I concluded that the new rent was unaffordable. I relayed this to Miles.
“We can’t manage the doubled rent,” I insisted.
Miles’s response was stern. “You’re breaking the lease terms. You’ve been noisy and disruptive with parties.”
I was taken aback. “That’s not true! We’ve never thrown parties!”
Nonetheless, Miles was adamant. “You have one month to leave.”
I felt defeated as I left. Rick and I searched for alternatives, but it became clear that Miles had other motives. He had likely noticed the enhancements I made with the washer and dryer and saw an opportunity to charge someone else a higher rent under the guise of enforcing rules.
As I packed my belongings, waves of anger and sorrow washed over me. I had cherished my time in that apartment, and now I was being uprooted by sheer greed. Rick consoled me, optimistic about finding a better place.
“We’ll find somewhere better,” he reassured me.
Though hopeful, finding a new place proved challenging. Everything was either too costly or unsuitable. The stress was mounting.
Eventually, Rick and I squeezed into his cramped apartment temporarily. When I moved out of my old place, I took my washer and dryer with me, assuming the issue with the apartment was resolved.
However, the next morning, I was bombarded with missed calls from Miles. I returned his call, and he urgently inquired about the whereabouts of the washer and dryer.
“They came with me,” I informed him.
Miles was frantic. “The rental ad promised a washer and dryer! I’ve charged more because of them! The new tenants expect them, and they’ll refuse the apartment without!”
I was weary and annoyed. “Those are my appliances. I have the receipts and even texts from you acknowledging I bought them.”
He threatened to involve the police if I didn’t return them.
“Go ahead, call them,” I challenged before hanging up.
A colleague suggested I was unreasonable for not informing Miles, but the appliances were mine by right.
The following day, Miles appeared at my door with the police. I was angry yet anxious as I invited them in.
“What’s the situation?” one officer asked.
“He’s claiming I stole from him,” I clarified.
The officer demanded silence from Miles with a stern look.
I took a deep breath and laid out the facts. “I purchased those machines myself. Here are the receipts and text messages proving my purchase and his awareness.”
After presenting my evidence, the officer concluded that the appliances were indeed mine.
“Thank you for cooperating. It looks like you’ve done nothing wrong. Sir, I’d advise you to stop this harassment unless you want to invest in your own appliances,” the officer stated, addressing Miles.
Relief swept over me as the officers and a flustered Miles left. Rick comforted me as we sat, drained from the ordeal.
“You did the right thing,” Rick said gently.
“I know,” I responded, feeling reassured yet still stressed.
Although we hadn’t found an ideal new home yet, a colleague soon tipped me off about a small house nearby. Energized by this lead, Rick and I visited the place. It was quaint, with a welcoming yard and an affordable rent, managed by a considerate owner.
“This is perfect,” Rick affirmed, hopeful.
“Yes, it really is. Let’s make it ours,” I agreed, smiling at the prospect of moving forward, especially when the owner mentioned the lack of a washer and dryer.
Glancing at Rick, we both chuckled. “That’s one thing we’ve definitely got covered,” I said, relieved to finally turn the page on a challenging chapter.
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