So, last night, I go on a delivery.

Here’s the setup: dude’s at work or whatever, and wants to feed his kids. So he calls in the order. No big deal, he’s done this before. Decent enough tip on the credit-card he uses, so when the food comes out, I bag it up, grab a soda, and head out the door. He’s fairly close by, too, so I’m there in a couple of minutes.

And here’s the pitch: there’s a dog in his driveway. His. It’s big, it’s black, and as soon as I step around the door and start walking to the garage (the door is open, and their walk to the front door is torn up, hence the note: “Go to Garage”), it starts growling.

I’ve got a rule about dogs: if they bark, no big deal. If they growl, their owners can come out to my car and get their fucking food for themselves. No big deal - I’ve got a cell phone, and I dial the number that is on the order slip. Well, either he gave the wrong area-code to whoever took the order, but the response I got from the phone was “at the beep, the time will be…” Um. Not quite what I was looking for. So I honked a few times, no one came out.

Well, fuck me.

Can’t deliver the pizza because of the vicious attack dog; can’t get the people to come out because they provided an invalid phone number and don’t hear me honking; only solution: drive back to the store, right?

Ah, but I am the master of fucking delivering cold pizza. And there, up sideways against the wall of the garage, was a “for sale” sign — with a phone number on it! Okay, so I don’t know whose phone number it was, but I gambled, a kid answered, confirmed the address, and responded “sometimes” when I asked if his dog was friendly. Sometimes your dog is friendly? Glad you thought to stick it in the basement so the pizza wouldn’t have to find out if the dog was deciding to be friendly when he showed up with your food!

Some people. Fuckers!

So early in the week I mused on whether or not I should move when my lease expires at the end of June. I took this internal debate very seriously, and gravely weighed my options. However, upon due consideration, I’ve decided not to move. I would love a balcony or a patio; I would love an in-unit washer/dryer instead of having to share a common facility with the building. All of these things would, in fact, be quite awesome. And particularly given my recent not-so-wonderful dealings with the leasing/management company, I was also looking forward to a fresh-start.

I wonder how much of my desire to move was motivated only by my anger at the leasing/management company? A good deal, I’d imagine.

In any case, I’ve decided not to move. Here’s why:

1. I’ve lived in two apartments with this management company for a total of six years. I really haven’t had many major issues with them at all; in fact, when I moved from my studio, they let me apply me low-as-shit security deposit ($100) over to my current apartment.

2. If I find a job that requires a long commute, I would be willing to put up with that commute for a while — either until the lease ended, or until I got tired of such a long drive that I broke the lease and paid a fine for it. I’d rather not move to Steeplechase, then get a job in Glen Burnie, then move again at the end of my lease to be closer to work. (I’d like to move as infrequently as possible, frankly).

3. It would mean tearing Hogwarts down, and, holy shit, I just don’t have the energy or willpower to do that.

4. This apartment doesn’t have a patio or a balcony, but it’s been my home for close to four years now. I can make it through another year or two or three.

5. With school wrapping up for me, and my job search slowly building a momentum certain to dominate the summer, I don’t need to add any unneccessary stress or worries. I’ve got enough to keep me stressed and worried already. I also certainly don’t need the expense of a down-payment, higher rent, and movers and moving vehicles.

So, as I mentioned, I got my lease renewal letter yesterday. It was a form letter (duh) expressing the management company’s hope that, as a valued resident, I would remain (which was the big clue that it was a form letter). As expected, my rent is going up July 1st. Oddly, my rent is going up by twenty-eight bucks (it usually goes up $25!). In any case, this apartment shall remain ‘home’ for at least another year.

Coming home from work today, two yellow notices of eviction were taped to the front door of my building. As I always do, I stopped to look at them to make sure neither were for me. Neither was — in fact, the letter informing me of the pending end of my lease and my options therein arrived yesterday — but I bet you can imagine how gleeful I was to notice that one of the notices was for my neighbors in Apartment D.

Unfortunatly, the reason cited was not “for driving neighbors bat-shit crazy to the point they take their rage out on us”, but “failure to pay rent.”

Still.

Anyway, this doesn’t neccessarily mean anything. Another of my neighbors — who is a great guy, super friendly, even tips well on the instances I’ve delivered him food — gets an eviction notice for the same reason every month, and he’s still here (just perpetually late).

But I can hope. And I shall!