A few posts back I wrote about a queen from Atlanta who we helped rent an apartment. Well before his lease was up he was told that the owner of the apartment was selling it and wanted him to move. Well, he decided to leave the country and hire a lawyer to try and keep the apartment. Why? Well, that is the $100,000 question no one can answer. It absolutely makes no sense. He is NOT Dominican, does not have legal right to the apartment, etc.
For several months he negotiated with the apartment owners lawyer and kept them hanging on a string so that she wouldn't take him to court. Every week he was coming, or sending the key, or there was some other excuse. He was always sending the key by FedEx the next week, but alas the key never materialized. I advised the lawyer to just take his ass to court and kick the fucking door in, but these are decent people and they thought they could reason with him. But how can you reason with a raging alcoholic?
Now, as this is all going on he doesn't pay one dime on the apartment, money for which he is STILL liable. Because of all the problems the mortgage was not paid and the owner was forced to seek the courts help. This alcoholic then devised a plan and called a friend of mine and told him he would pay for his ticket to fly down from NYC and for him to open the apartment and give all the contents (his bed, fan and empty liquor bottles) to his favorite buggaron, Ceasar. Now why would anyone go through all that? Why not just send the fucking key and give up the apartment? Only he, with the help of an extremely competent therapist can answer that question.
This person is one who claimed that he didn't like the whole "buggaron" scene, but would always go out and pick the most hideous ones. You know the kind, ugly, but with a really big dick. He even started some scam foundation that was to help with AIDS prevention. BUT, it was only for "boys" from the age of 18-29. No women, no one older or younger, just boys from that age range. He even went around to solicit money, but when people asked about the programs, where the offices were located etc., he could provide no answers. These people would call me asking what the hell was he doing? He gave me these elaborate brochures to handout to my customers. I promptly threw them in the garbage.
Well, today was finally the day that the apartment was opened. He told them he was sending the key, and he did, but alas it didn't work. He sent the wrong key. The lawyer and owner were so happy, until they tried to open the door. They went and got the prosecutors and got the legal okay to open the motherfucka up. And voila, our long nightmare with the crazy alcoholic is finally over. We can all now breathe a sigh of relief.
Ceasar is there now loading all the empty bottles and things very quickly. I'm sure he wants to get to the pawn shop before it closes. More importantly, we just got off the phone to the person who is going to purchase the apartment and he will be down next week.
Now if we can just remove the alcohol and vomit smell from the place...