Landlord Of The Year
So I got back to the apartment last night, and found that there was no power. No lights, no sockets, no cooling in the fridge (stinky milk, but actually that was probably just my fault), NO INTERNET!!!!! (I should clarify that the first few days in this apartment I didn’t have a connection, and it coincided with Dave from work being in town for a few days - two of us sitting desolate in the place acting like our arms had been cut off.)
With visions of having to find a hotel to stay in filling my head, I called my landlord on the offchance. He pointed me to the fuse box in the basement/garage, but nothing there was wrong; the rest of the building had power (he knew, because he lives in it too), so he called the power company, who can’t come in until today (there’s the service culture in action).
So initially he offered to pay for me a night in a hotel, then when I asked if maybe he just had a portable light I could use, he said “I’ll be right round”. Within minutes he’d set up a complex arrangement of extension cables from his apartment to mine, allowing me to get a few lights going and make my way around the place without falling and cracking my head open. All the while apologising profusely for something that he clearly had no control over and reiterating his further apologies on behalf of the power company.
Stop and consider this for a moment. It’s been a while since I’ve had a landlord, but can you honestly imagine one in Britain being so helpful at no notice, outside of ‘business hours’ and even offering to cover you in a hotel for the night? It’s not a mental picture I find easy to paint. He’s a lovely bloke, and it’s a pity I’m only in this place for another few days until our permanent place is available.
September 17th, 2008 at 3:22 pm
He deserves some flowers when you leave. Outstanding landlords deserve love.