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So before I left my apartment, I tapped in,
Good morning!
FYI, I’ve decided it’s a definite yes for EF. If you could let me know how to sort that, it’d be great
I liked talking to you last night. I’m glad you called.
Have a fab day and see you tonight.
I tacked an emoji face with hearts around it at the end and hit go.
I then leashed up Cleo, grabbed my bag, shoved my black-rimmed, cat eye Prada sunglasses on my nose (another online reseller score) and headed down to my car.
On my way along the landing, I saw Patsy wearing her work blouse and skirt, though she had Crocs on her feet, because she was out watering the planters.
“Yo!” I called a greeting to her.
“Heya, Raye,” she called back, hoofing it from the pool area to the entry (where she’d also placed a couple big vibrant planters—see? total welcome home).
Uncertain which personality she was going with for the morning, Cleo sniffed Patsy when she got to me.
“Did you see the notice on the notice board?” she asked.
I turned to the glass-fronted bulletin board Bill and Zach had mounted above the mailboxes. They also maintained it.
It had business cards for housekeepers and dry cleaners, and a rotating array of takeout menus of new restaurants and announcements of local concerts and events.
What it did not have was info on pet sitters, since I looked after everyone’s pets in the complex if they went out of town, and I did it for free (though, everyone paid me with gift cards and such).
On it was a bright-pink sheet of paper that shared Dreamweaver Inc. had purchased the complex.
I got closer to the bulletin board, mumbling, “Oh snap.”
“I know, right?” Patsy said. “It’s a done deal. John Campos is out, and this corporation is in.”
John Campos was our, apparently former, landlord.
I was listening to her, and also wondering if that was legal—selling a complex like ours without notifying the tenants— and being proficient at multi-tasking, also reading.
And further, not believing my eyes.
First, the notice assured us that rents would not change.
Then, the notice told us there would be upgrades to the complex happening beginning Monday, and we should be advised that there would be workers and delivery people on the property, and soon, we would have to assist in their endeavors by moving our cars.
Next, it listed all the things that were going to happen in the coming month or two.
Things that made it shocking…nay, downright impossible that rents weren’t going to rise.
In other words, the pool deck was going to be lifted and a new cool deck installed. This winter, the pool was also going to be drained and new pebble finish applied, with a pool light upgrade. Topping that, the courtyard furniture was going to be replaced and the barbeque area updated.
Further, the exterior of the complex was going to be painted, solar panels added that would reduce our electrical bills, and a new sign erected.
Onward from that, new, updated security fences and gates would be installed, along with cameras trained on the parking lot.
If that wasn’t enough, the blacktop of the lot was going to be replaced with a heat reflecting surface. JuiceBoxes to charge electric cars were going to be affixed in the carports, metered to the unit the space belonged to. A compost bin was going to be built in a corner of the parking lot. Window boxes were going to be fitted to the outer building windows and the greenery planted would be maintained by building management. And a new recycling service had been contracted, so the four narrow rooms (upstairs and down) at the two north corners of the complex that held the garbage chutes would have new recycle containers, compost collectors and a plastic bag bin.
“Did I wake up in an alternate universe?” I asked the bulletin board.
