A Reason to Believe

In love and money

Photo by Ehsan Ahmadi on Unsplash

They say that love can make you rationalize almost any behavior your lover exhibits.

“If I listened long enough to you

I’d find a way to believe it’s all true….” Rod Stewart: “Reason to believe”

Money can make you do the same thing.

The Tenant

She (Nancy) came into my office, unlike most of the young college students that rented apartments from me as manager of 311 South 20th, Philadelphia. She was dressed as if she was going to a church on Sunday morning. A welcome respite from the usual torn jeans that appeared to be in fashion in the fall of 2015. Nancy was an Elementary Education major and a junior at the University of Pennsylvania.

She was in my office after seeing a one bedroom apartment in the aforementioned building. Nancy wanted to sign a two-year lease which would see her through her senior year.

At least that’s what Nancy told me at the time.

My story

Nancy moved in September 1st, the date of occupancy stated in her lease.

On or around September 5th, a tenant called complaining of a barking dog in the adjacent apartment.

Nancy’s barking dog?

The building is a short walk from my office. I decided to take a stroll on over and check the dog complaint.

The building allowed psychological support pets but Nancy had made no such request and didn't produce the required doctor’s certification for the need of one.

I knocked on Nancy’s door and received a barrage of barks for my efforts.

“Who is it?” came the human response.

“It’s Brian, the manager,” I announced.

I heard a series of locks being released from the inside of the apartment.

The door swung open revealing Nancy and a nasty looking pit bull.

She was holding the dog’s ominous studded collar.

Intuiting what I was there for, the innocent-looking Nancy defensively claimed, “He’s my boyfriend’s dog, he doesn’t live here, I’m just watching him!”

About a week later came another complaint about the barking dog.

A Reason to believe

Another call, another negative.

Pissed, I dialed Nancy once again!

A mail voice answered.

“Jack, speaking!” it boomed.

Identifying myself as the manager calling to answer a complaint from the next-door neighbor, I went on….

“May I speak to Nancy?” I asked politely.

“She’s at work, I’ll tell her you called when she gets home. I’m her boyfriend -I live here too” he volunteered in an authoritative voice.

She never called….

But another tenant called complaining of a noisy party in Nancy’s apartment the following weekend.

This whole thing was getting out of hand.

Monday after work, lease in hand, I took the short walk to 311 South 20th.

Knocking on the door of Nancy’s apartment rewarded me with barking and a, “Who is it?” question through the closed door.

A female voice, Nancy’s?

The beginning of the end

The cacophony of locks being unlatched, the door opened.

Nancy was standing in the foyer. I could peer over her shoulder and see Jack sitting on a blond IKEA couch with his hand grasping the collar of the threatening pit bull.

I was beckoned in by Nancy and shook Jack’s free left hand in an awkard half shake.

I sat down and pretended to relax.

I came right to the point after showing them the log I’d made of the list of complaints.

“Guys, you’re breaking the lease in more ways than sideways. Jack, if you’re living here by default, you shouldn’t. You’re not on the lease. And by no stretch should Rover be here,” pointing at the dog.

As smooth as a barracuda’s butt; Nancy replied, “Jack and Romulus (the dog) will be out by next weekend, he’s got a new place. Don’tcha Jack?”

Sullen silence on Jack’s part…..

“That’s the truth, I promise,” she stated, flashing a radiant bright grin I’m sure she’s used in other situations of stress.

The end of the beginning

The following weekend there was another noise complaint registered.

When I got Nancy on the phone, she handled my ire in a way that I’ll never forget:

“Nancy, just last Monday you told me Jack and Romulus would be out of the apartment. You claimed they were going to move into a new place. Jack had signed a lease. You promised that was true.” I felt betrayed.

“Oh, yes!” Nancy said, “But now there’s a new truth!”

A new truth? Is there such a thing?

It took me six months to evict the three of them. I guess that was the final truth. Something new to Nancy, Jack — and Romulus.