First of all, due to a sequence of events, this is an update to the roomie post. I thought it would be appropriate for me to have my stab before P gets to it ;). (Ya hay que esperar la edicion espanola :o))
BAM BAM!
As if there was any other more unpleasant way to be disturbed during a weekend away than by receiving a call from the management. Given the fact that the nature of the call was left in a message so vague that I decided that the return call could wait, unless of course our apartment had gone up in flames, but then I would expect a call every hour on the hour. The fews days following "the call" we played phone tag. I am a black-belt master in that game, no matter what the situation.
After dodging calls for a couple of days I finally decided to have P make the call and see what the hell was going on. Another leaky ceiling, parking space quibble... who knows after all the adventures we've had thus far. Alas, no. This incident was going take the cake of all incidents.
Apparently sometime during broad daylight on Saturday, Albonguilla had the bright idea of going around the building shooting a BB gun. No big deal. Only that it is broad daylight and to top it off there are kids playing around outside. Granted, she is not completed out of whack, we do have very loud and often times quite obnoxious ducks around the area. (These, by the way, are the most ugly ducklings I have ever laid eyes upon -- red warts and all). It is still unconfirmed what exactly she was doing. I will give her props if she was trying to cap a few of these ducks and save all us from the early morning squawking wake up calls. However, there are times and places for everything. This apartment is not the place, nor was the time right. More than the following reason, someone in her mental (and maturity) state should not be allowed to handle a gun of any sort, not even a squirt gun.
Thank our lucky stars that we were out of town, because I would not have wanted to deal with disgruntled neighbors or a crazy BB gun madwoman going around the apartment block. Apparently the management received a handful of complaints on Saturday, hence the call to us. It was confirmed and decided upon that we are not, under any circumstance, to renew her contract. (No problem, thank god!) nor was she going to be offered to move into the vacant apartment opening up next month. We have since learned that the management is not as blood-sucking, money grunges as we thought they were; in fact, it seems that are genuinely concerned about the welfare of their tenants. Best stated, their tenants and ducks.
I do have to comment on the fact that in my opinion is sick to torture such innocent animals. There is no way that these ducks can move or run faster than a human walks. I don't think they are even capable of flying away. The are literally sitting ducks, same as the one you shoot at when you go to the county fair. Only the satisfaction of shooting one of these things down does not come with tokens or a prized stuffed animal for the sig other. Nope, instead it just frightens the neighbors and gives their children nightmares. Yes, without a doubt these ducks are ugly. Uglier though than these ducks is the one who tries to be a hero and kill them off. If we could eliminate everything that bothered us, well, let's just say we'd be slowly diminishing the human race.
*same roomie as the first post; this again was written a while back and I am now sharing my trauma with the public :)
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