I spent the last two years in a cozy apartment within a modest building. The place lacked a communal laundry facility, but it did offer connections for a personal washer and dryer. Given my job at an animal refuge, where I often end up quite soiled, investing in these appliances seemed essential.
Just the other day, after a playful yet muddy chase with one of our resident wild boars named Bacon, the necessity of having my own laundry machines was undeniable.
My boyfriend, Rick, had just proposed, and we were thrilled about him moving in with me. However, upon sharing our news with the landlord, Miles, he declared that the rent would double, justifying it by claiming, “they have two incomes.”
“This isn’t fair!” I argued. “Why should our rent double just because I’m getting married?”
Miles was unyielding. “That’s the policy. Take it or leave it.”
After deliberating, Rick and I concluded that the new rent was unaffordable. I relayed this to Miles.
“We can’t manage the doubled rent,” I insisted.
Miles’s response was stern. “You’re breaking the lease terms. You’ve been noisy and disruptive with parties.”
I was taken aback. “That’s not true! We’ve never thrown parties!”
Nonetheless, Miles was adamant. “You have one month to leave.”
I felt defeated as I left. Rick and I searched for alternatives, but it became clear that Miles had other motives. He had likely noticed the enhancements I made with the washer and dryer and saw an opportunity to charge someone else a higher rent under the guise of enforcing rules.
As I packed my belongings, waves of anger and sorrow washed over me. I had cherished my time in that apartment, and now I was being uprooted by sheer greed. Rick consoled me, optimistic about finding a better place.
“We’ll find somewhere better,” he reassured me.
Though hopeful, finding a new place proved challenging. Everything was either too costly or unsuitable. The stress was mounting.
Eventually, Rick and I squeezed into his cramped apartment temporarily. When I moved out of my old place, I took my washer and dryer with me, assuming the issue with the apartment was resolved.
However, the next morning, I was bombarded with missed calls from Miles. I returned his call, and he urgently inquired about the whereabouts of the washer and dryer.
“They came with me,” I informed him.
Miles was frantic. “The rental ad promised a washer and dryer! I’ve charged more because of them! The new tenants expect them, and they’ll refuse the apartment without!”