theft, urine, and the idea that maybe it’s time for me to find a new apartment

A few weeks ago, I woke up at 5:40am to the sound of someone from one of the upstairs apartments peeing into the ball pit on my patio. The problem, aside from the obvious fact that there was someone’s disgusting drunk urine in there (no one pees in a ball pit sober), was that I couldn’t do anything about it because I wasn’t sure which of the upstairs neighbors was responsible. I thought about going door-to-door and asking, but really, who would ever admit to that?

I thought about exaggerating the whole thing, tearfully telling them that the ball pit belongs to my young daughter and that she’s disabled and that the ball pit is her favorite toy and that she was out there playing when it happened and that she was open-mouth laughing from the sheer delight of having a ball pit and that someone peed in her fucking mouth and that we had to rush her to the hospital because she ingested urine that was 90% vodka – but those shenanigans seemed like a) too much effort and b) something even I’m not dramatic enough to pull off.

Frustrated, I decided to report it to the building manager, but I stopped myself after realizing that a ball pit would definitely fall under one of the eleventy thousand categories of prohibited patio items that make me wonder why they even built patios for this building in the first place (WHY GIVE ME A PATIO IF I CAN’T USE IT??) and that admitting to having such a “hazardous” item would probably get me in more trouble than the mysterious urinators who poisoned my fake disabled daughter. Not worth it.

Also, my building manager people are never actually in their building manager office during normal building managing hours, a fact I learned a week after the ball pit incident when I went to ask questions about the guy two doors down from me whose apartment had been broken into, in the middle of the day, and who was now missing all of his valuable shit.

I mean, whaaaaat??

So, to recap, I’m paying exorbitant amounts of rent money to live alone in an apartment building where thieves break into your living room via your patio and yet the building doesn’t allow you to have anything on the patio to create an obstacle course for the thieves because it’s against the goddamn safety code and then even if you do decide to put things on your patio anyway, people fucking pee all over it.

Alright Antoine Dodson, you’re up.

Posted in: san francisco, wtf?!