![\"\"](\"http:\/\/trendflare.co\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/08\/Screenshot-2024-07-04-at-10.05.45-780x470-1-300x181.jpg\")
<\/p>\nMy bestie Jenna and I found the perfect vintage apartment with a seemingly sweet landlord, Mr. Whitaker. But things took a bizarre turn when his daily \u201cinspections\u201d and unsolicited advice crossed the line into creepy territory.<\/p>\n
Hello! My name is Andrea, and anyone who has had to deal with a crazy landlord will relate to my story. So, here we go.<\/p>\n
A few months ago, my bestie, Jenna, and I found this adorable two-bedroom apartment. It had that vintage charm, as well as brick walls, slightly creaky hardwood floors, and just this amazing cottage-core potential in the middle of the city.<\/p>\n
The landlord, Mr. Whitaker, seemed like a sweet old guy, too, with gray hair and a kind smile. He looked a little like the grandfather from \u201cUp,\u201d except not grumpy.<\/p>\n
I thought it was perfect, so we took it right away and signed the lease. For the first few months, it was bliss.<\/p>\n
We decorated with quirky thrift store finds and turned every windowsill into a mini jungle. We even posted our journey on Instagram and did a lot of DIY craft stuff for more decorations. But then\u2026 things got weird.<\/p>\n
It started innocently enough, so we didn\u2019t have time to control things before they exploded. Let me explain a little better.<\/p>\n
Mr. Whitaker showed up one day with a toolbox in hand. \u201cJust checking the plumbing!\u201d he said with a smile. That was amazing, right?<\/p>\n
It was good to have a proactive landlord, one we didn\u2019t have to call every day for a simple fix. But then he was back the next week. And the week after that.<\/p>\n
Soon, it was every. Single. Day. And his excuses got more and more ridiculous:<\/p>\n
\u201cGotta inspect that wiring!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThose smoke detectors won\u2019t check themselves!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNeed to measure the air quality!\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I kid you not, he actually said this, and I had to Google if that was a real thing. Apparently, it was, so Jenna and I didn\u2019t know what to think.<\/p>\n
At first, we tried to be cool about it. We were like, \u201cMaybe he\u2019s just thorough? Or bored? Or really, REALLY into property maintenance?\u201d<\/p>\n
But nope, this issue got so much worse.<\/p>\n
He came by another day without any kind of excuse and just looked around. Suddenly, he started critiquing our cleaning.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know, a little vinegar would get that stain out of the counter right out,\u201d he said, pointing at a spot we didn\u2019t even know existed.<\/p>\n
He also made these passive-aggressive comments about our lifestyle. \u201cBack in my day, young ladies dressed much better with pretty sundresses, not sad, tight pants,\u201d he muttered to me.<\/p>\n
I was literally in my work clothes.<\/p>\n
And sometimes he just\u2026 sat there. In our living room. Watching us like we were some kind of reality TV show.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t exactly creepy yet, but Jenna and I were uncomfortable. If I wanted an old grumpy man to complain about my life and choices, I would\u2019ve stayed at home with my parents.<\/p>\n
We had to start tiptoeing around our own apartment. It felt like he was here even in the rare times he didn\u2019t show up.<\/p>\n
Jenna and I even began to wonder if he was letting himself in when we weren\u2019t around. Now, that was a creepy thought. But we had no proof.<\/p>\n
One time, he showed up while Jenna was in the shower, and insisted on checking the bathroom sink right then and there.<\/p>\n
I had to play bodyguard outside the bathroom door. Still, Jenna finished and came out quickly, and Mr. Whitaker got to work like this was perfectly normal.<\/p>\n
Mortifying didn\u2019t even begin to cover how we were feeling, and I was about to reach my breaking point.<\/p>\n
Days later, he decided our furniture arrangement was \u201cdamaging the floor,\u201d and tried to move our couch himself, nearly throwing out his back.<\/p>\n
We had to help him sit down and get him some water. Eventually, we started keeping a log of his visits.<\/p>\n
It was our own bizarre diary:<\/p>\n
Monday: Checked lightbulbs. Commented on dust.<\/p>\n
Tuesday: Inspected windows. Criticized our choice of curtains.<\/p>\n
Wednesday: \u2018Fixed\u2019 a door that wasn\u2019t broken. Left it squeaking.<\/p>\n
You get the idea. We were going nuts, but we were also kind of scared to confront him. What if he kicked us out?<\/p>\n
The rental market was brutal, and we loved this place (when he wasn\u2019t in it).<\/p>\n
Then came The Day.<\/p>\n
It was a sunny Saturday morning. Jenna and I were having our weekend coffee, planning a day of brunch and thrift shopping.<\/p>\n
I reached for the sugar and my elbow knocked over my cup. Coffee spilled over our cute little IKEA table and onto the floor.<\/p>\n
That was no big deal, but before we could even grab a paper towel, we heard keys jingling.<\/p>\n
The door flew open, and there was Mr. Whitaker. His face changed so quickly at seeing the mess and got so red, I swear he could\u2019ve stopped traffic.<\/p>\n
\u201cWHAT\u2019S GOING ON HERE?!\u201d he demanded, and his eyes almost bulged like a cartoon. \u201cYOU\u2019RE RUINING MY PROPERTY!\u201d<\/p>\n
I tried to calm him down. \u201cI just spilled my coffee, Mr. Whitaker. We\u2019ll clean it up, no worries!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJUST COFFEE?!\u201d he screamed. I\u2019m pretty sure I saw steam coming out of his ears. \u201cDO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DAMAGE THAT CAN CAUSE?! IT\u2019LL SEEP INTO THE FLOORBOARDS!\u201d<\/p>\n
Jenna and I shared a look that said, \u201cThis is it. We\u2019ve reached our limit. No more Ms. Nice Tenant.\u201d<\/p>\n
As soon as Mr. Whitaker stormed out (but not before giving us a 20-minute lecture on the \u201cproper way\u201d to drink coffee), we started thinking.<\/p>\n
What could we do to stop this?<\/p>\n
We spent the rest of the day researching tenant rights, reading our lease agreement with a fine-tooth comb, and coming up with a battle plan.<\/p>\n
And we decided to use a secret weapon: a security system. (Yes, it\u2019s legal in most cases for tenants to install their own security cameras.)<\/p>\n
We had someone install it as soon as the system was delivered. It came with motion sensors, cameras, and a loud alarm. It also connected to the internet.<\/p>\n
Jenna and I installed the app, and we were ready. It was definitely out of place, considering our decor and general style, but Mr. Whitaker had forced our hand.<\/p>\n
So, the next day, we activated everything and left for our respective jobs.<\/p>\n
Lo and behold, around 11 a.m., my phone started buzzing like crazy. The alarm had been triggered. I checked the cameras, and as expected, it was Mr. Whitaker, who had let himself in.<\/p>\n
I called Jenna, and together we decided to call the cops, although we only used the non-emergency line. Then, we each left our jobs early.<\/p>\n
When we got to our apartment, Mr. Whitaker was in a heated argument with two very unimpressed-looking police officers.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is MY apartment!\u201d he yelled, his face matching the color of a ripe tomato. \u201cI have every right to be here! I OWN this building!\u201d<\/p>\n
The younger cop looked so done, so we approached and introduced ourselves.<\/p>\n
\u201cSir,\u201d he said slowly, \u201cyou may own this place, but you have tenants. You can\u2019t just enter whenever you want. That\u2019s not how this works. They have a right to privacy.\u201d<\/p>\n
When Mr. Whitaker began sputtering, I pulled out the lease agreement, pointing out the clause about 24-hour notice for non-emergency entry.<\/p>\n
The older cop nodded at me as if he already knew that clause would be there. Jenna and I thought this moment was great to point out how Mr. Whitaker often barged in, not taking no for an answer, and made us uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
The officer\u2019s frown increased the more we talked.<\/p>\n
After a huge sigh, he turned to Mr. Whitaker. \u201cSir, you\u2019re in violation of the lease terms. These young women have a right to take this matter further.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was expecting the old landlord to complain some more, but he deflated like a sad balloon. He probably felt cornered.<\/p>\n
He mumbled something about just trying to take care of his property, and I decided to lay it out for him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Whitaker, we appreciate that you care about the building. But there\u2019s caring, and then there\u2019s\u2026 whatever this is. We\u2019re responsible tenants. We\u2019ll let you know if anything needs fixing. But you can\u2019t keep barging in like this. It\u2019s not okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Whitaker avoided my eyes.<\/p>\n
Jenna added her two cents. \u201cBeing a good landlord doesn\u2019t mean invading our privacy. We just want to feel comfortable in our own home. That\u2019s not too much to ask, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
The old grump nodded, but I could tell it was a begrudging agreement, so the cops gave him an official warning. They explained that if it happened again, he could face legal consequences.<\/p>\n
Mr. Whitaker nodded again, but it was more serious, although he still looked like a kid who\u2019d been told Santa wasn\u2019t real.<\/p>\n
I felt bad for the sad, old man. He might have been lonely, but I don\u2019t regret it because it\u2019s been blissfully quiet since.<\/p>\n
He has stuck to the lease terms like they\u2019re glued to his hands. Not only that, but he schedules visits in advance, keeps them brief, and actually waits for us to let him in.<\/p>\n
So here\u2019s what I learned: Know your rights as a tenant. Document everything. Don\u2019t be afraid to stand up for yourself. And a good security system is worth its weight in gold!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"