Refrigerator Fiasco

Over the past month I have been in a heated dispute with my landlords, honestly I don't know how they sleep at night, because if they treated everyone like they treated me they would have superfluous amounts of unhappy tenants. This entire debacle began in March when after a long mind altering run I came home to grab my favorite icing device, a bag of frozen peas, to soothe my aching muscles. Much to my surprise all I found was the squishy water-logged contents of the bag. This was a Friday night so I called the tenant hot line for emergencies. I kindly described to the people that my refrigerator was having some issues and the lady assured me this would be addressed. 

So five days later, 6 phone calls, one from Daddy Rex, and still no cooling in my refrigerator. Now let's review the situation. I was kindly informed on Sunday that refrigerator melt-downs did not classify as an emergency. Ok, so my water pipes have to be exploding or I must be breathing in carbon monoxide to get any assistance? Fine I thought for sure they would take care of it on Monday.  As I waited for the queen of landlords to respond to my phone calls I just became bitter. You see I am one of those health food nuts, the kind that buys organic flax-seed stuffed pitas, Fage yogurt, and other random organic foods so you can imagine my dismay as I began tossing my malodorous rotting food from my inferno of an ice box. This is where I would like you to imagine sweet Jen, the girl who can't pick a fight, transitioning into MAD DOG PASKO. 

Tuesday morning I had had enough. Dragging my two garbage bags of rotting food into their office I was there on a mission. I told them I wanted to speak to Brenda, the owner. I would like to take this opportunity to create a picture of Brenda. A 50 something year-old woman, hirsute, with little white hairs coming out of her chin, approaching morbid obesity, with salt and pepper hair, and a rather large mouth. It is a wonder I didn't run away when she stepped out of her office to greet me. Yet, I wasn't there to be friends. I just remember I was hot-to-trot. "At one point I asked her what she wanted me to do with all my rotting food?"  She replied,  "Well, its cold enough you could have put your milk  outside."  Oh hey Brenda-baby, maybe if I was Laura Ingalls Wilder that thought might have crossed my mind. I was infuriated. So then I began to raise my voice, and so did Brenda. It continued to progress like this until we were both screaming at each other. Then I just got tonked off, because for the first time in my life I felt a kind of discrimination I had never felt before.

You see Brenda talked to me like I was her 13 year-old child, or an imbecile.  Although I am a well-educated reasonalble woman, If I would have been a man with the exact same problem I would have never been treated that way that I was.  The reverse discrimination I received from the woman was so alarmingly shocking I left the rental place trembling. When I reached the safety of my own car I began to cry. I am one of those women in life who believe they  can do it all. I can use a hammer and nail, mow a lawn, and have no reason to be dependent on a male for any reason. However, leaving Hallmark Rentals that day I realized I had so much to learn about how the world operates.

Which brings us to today. You see they fixed my refrigerator(supposedly). Yet, three weeks later, yesterday to be exact, I wake up and of course my new bag of peas are small squishy balls in the bag and my milk smells like rank socks. Oh yes, so I call and just say my name and the woman on the other end of the phone asks me, "Are you the woman who brought her rotting food in?" So perhaps I am sort of a legend at Hallmark Rental, almost like a David versus Goliath sort of story, but all I know is that in the end I have won.  I am over joyed to announce that today I will be receiving my new refrigerator; and nothing will make my day more than to tell them to send the bill to Brenda, the big bad landlord.