The rules of apartment renting don’t apply in a small town.

Take the act of actually paying your rent as a perfect example. If you happen to live somewhere like in Ottawa, failure to pay the rent on your part resulted in a warning of eviction notice on the part of the landlord a week or two later. It doesn’t matter if you have the money and they didn’t try to take it, or they tried and you didn’t have the money. Compare that to somewhere like Pembroke. Apparently, not taking one’s due rent–even if you have the cheque that says you can do so and even if the money exists–is perfectly fine. I might be inclined to say normal. Of course, equally normal–for the building I live in, anyway–is to not actually get your landlord on the phone to figure out if he does, indeed, intend to cash the said rent cheque, or if it’s just going to sit there collecting dust while he does I’m not sure what. I’ve lived here for almost a year now, and I think I’ve actually gotten him on the phone all of twice.

I handed him 6 months worth of rent cheques in April; he’s already cashed two of them. This month’s rent should have been drawn at the latest by the seventh of the month. As it’s currently ten days later, and I still have more money than I should, I’ve spent a large part of today trying to invent a means of geting him to wake up and answer his phone, short of showing up at his front door with cash in hand. If I can’t drag an answer out of the man by Monday, I’m halfway tempted to do just that.

I’ve been contemplating finding an apartment over here that may or may not be slightly cheaper than what I’m paying right now, in an attempt to stop my bank account from sliding in altogether the wrong direction. At the moment, cheaper or not, at this point I’d settle for a landlord that’s actually available. I’m not a huge fan of talking to someone’s voicemail–particularly voicemail on a cell phone. I’m an even less huge fan of it when we’re talking money owed that has not been collected. I’m significantly less of a huge fan when the owner of that cell phone who’s voicemail I’m forced to talk to is extremely bad at returning phone calls. I get the pleasure of having to contend with all three rolled up into one.

Tiny little note to my ever so pleasant landlord. I’m trying to give you money. Or, rather, I’ve given you permission to go right ahead and take my money. I’ve even given you that permission for the next four months. I have money, which you have not taken. Please to be rectifying this situation quickly, lest you like the idea of irritated blind man showing up at your front door. I can oblige, if you’d prefer. Personally, I’d just prefer you take my money. No love, the irritated blind man.

Also: He clearly loves his voicemail. Just called yet again. Is there a legal method for firing your landlord while still keeping the apartment?

Update: Superintendant dood doesn’t have an answer either. Yay multiple levels of stupid. Now we both get to wait for the guy or guys who actually own(s) the place. Go me.

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