Complaint Plus Complaint Equals No Help

I got an email this past Wednesday from the property manager – PM – over here where I live. I’d sent emails and made phone calls to her complaining about the neighbors with the loud music and bullying son. PM called me last weekend after the third email I’d sent about the adult male from the offending household standing in the parking lot screaming at my next-door neighbor because she’d asked them to turn down the music. PM received my email and wanted to let me know that she’d address my complaints on Monday, referring to this past Monday.

I didn’t hear anything until I got the email from PN on Wednesday. Her email asked me to meet her in her office on Friday morning to discuss the complaint. I wrote back saying I’d be there around 8:30 unless she told me otherwise. She agreed and I set a reminder in my phone so I wouldn’t forget. I didn’t forget because generally when I set a reminder, write myself a note, or ask someone to remind me of something it never leaves my mind.

Friday morning I got up and go the kids ready for school and on the bus; then I went up to the office. I was there a bit early because I figured I’d get in to see PM, discuss what needed to be discussed, and get back home so I could do my chores and errands for the day. As is my luck she wasn’t at the office yet. The receptionist told me PM had called in a few minutes prior saying she was stuck in traffic. So I sat and waited. She arrived about 20 minutes later, went into her office to put away her belongings, and called me in to speak with her.

Just to make small talk while she gathered her paperwork I simply asked if the traffic was really bad.  Apparently there was a bad accident on the highway and she felt the need to tell me about it; I was just being polite, I wasn’t expecting every single detail. Anyway, she finished telling me about her ride into work and then she began discussing my complaints. She had them printed out and laying on the table next to her. She said she’d addressed the complaints with the neighbors in my complaints and then she began talking about tit-for-tat incidents. Huh?

She started telling me that her job is to try to keep peace amongst the residents in the complex and that she tries really hard not to have to put anything in anyone’s file. Okay, I had no problem with that. She went on to say that her main goal was to try to work things out so that neighbors could be neighbors. Again, that was fine with me. I don’t generally bother with my neighbors; I prefer to keep to myself and let everyone else do their own things. I wouldn’t have even bothered to complain about these neighbors except that my family was being bothered by their antics. Had it not affected any one of us I would never have said a word to anyone.

In any case, PM continued talking about how she just wanted to work with us to make sure that there were no further disturbances and since she’d discussed my complaint – names withheld, according to her – with my neighbors she also had to discuss a complaint lodged against me. Now I understood what the “tit-for-tat” comment was about. She said she couldn’t tell me who filed the complaint against me but she didn’t need to. I’m not an idiot. I’d filed a complaint against them about their son being a bully and about them playing their music in the parking lot too loudly. So, in turn, she went and filed a complaint against me – about my 12-year-old son being a bully. Imagine that.

I told PM that I don’t have a 12 year old; I told her my kids are 10, 9, and 6 years of age. She just said that the complainant thought my son was 12. I can only guess the my neighbor doesn’t even speak to her son about school or she’d have known that my son Zach – the one I can only presume she was complaining about being a bully – is in the same class as her son, who is eight. Both boys are in the fourth grade so Zach can’t possibly be 12. Even if she was referring to Ty she still can’t put puzzle pieces together. Ty rides the same bus to school as Zach and her son. That bus goes to the elementary school and the middle school. The middle school is fifth and sixth graders – 10 and 11 year olds; seventh grade and up, generally 12 years old and older, all go to the high school. Whatever, I’m nitpicking about her not being able to think logically. Eh, it is what it is.

Regardless, I let PM tell me about the complaint and all she said was that my son was being called a bully and would I please speak to him about it. Yes, I would speak to him, but what do I do when the bully continues to mess with my kids? I repeated that I can’t speak to the parents and don’t know what else to do. She said that, if it happens during office hours, I am supposed to call her and she’ll drive up to assess the situation. What the fuck is that going to do? By the time I even get past the receptionist the bully will have run to another part of the yard and changed his story to fit what he wants others to believe. Fuck it.

It just really sucks that I can’t try to get assistance to help my kids without getting a complaint filed against me. Because of that complaint management has to consider it a wash and won’t help me. Ask me again why I don’t trust anyone and have a problem with authority figures. I dare ya. I guess I’ll just have to wait until someone gets hurt by this kid and call the police. I have no other options at this point. And, from now on, I’ll make periodic surprise visits out to the yard, with my phone, so I can take video and try to capture the kid being a little shit. In the meantime I’m not going to stress over it; it’s out of my control so I’ll just wait and see what happens.

Until next time…peace to all.