Ok, so there's nothing like a written rental inspection report featuring a cavalier use of the word "aghast" (and several other less than complimentary adjectives) to drag my grumpy old ass out of semi-retirement.
So two days on, now that my initial homicidal rage has dissipated into a mere slow-burning vengeful rage, I am now somewhat composed enough to vent my spleen safe in the knowledge that it will not result in me hurling my long-suffering Mac through the window to my right.
Write THAT up on your inspection report, motherfuckers.
Before I proceed to share the tawdry details of said rental inspection report, I’ll preface my rant by saying that a) we had managed to have the lino floors completely returned to their original state thanks to a bit of luck sourcing lino offcuts at the eleventh hour (the exact pattern had long been discontinued, according to each and every vinyl floor purveyor we had spoken to on our search), b) we had spent the whole weekend tirelessly cleaning up to avoid any possible recriminations and c) the bitch turned up seven hours early for the inspection.
Now if I had been the one at home, the motherfucker wouldn’t have made it through the front door. She would have been packed up on her merry motherfucking way and told to return at the scheduled time later that day.
But my sweet and naïve Anton is a trusting a soul, and - having nothing to hide - let her in the house to do the inspection first thing in the morning, when he was still in his pyjamas.
Lesson one: REAL ESTATE AGENTS ARE SATAN INCARNATE (ALBEIT, IN SUB-SUB-HUMAN FORM) AND ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED FOR ANY REASON WHATSOEVER. THEY EXIST ONLY TO CALLOUSLY INFLICT NEEDLESS PAIN AND SUFFERING ON THE HUMAN RACE, ESPECIALLY TO SPITE THOSE OF US WITH GOOD HEARTS, HONEST INTENTIONS AND MEANINGFUL EXISTENCES.
So the motherfucker, who we will simply call Margot (as she cowardly refused to divulge her last name, unfortunately she cannot be named and shamed as the witch she truly is) slithered her filthy way into our home and Anton’s trust.
According to his report at the time, Margot did not manifest the level shock and outrage that was to later appear in our written rental inspection report. The Devil is sly. The Devil is duplicitous. The Devil will seduce you with a falsely charming and cordial exterior while all the while it secretly plots to destroy you.
The following are some choice cuts (taken verbatim) from the carve-up that was Margot’s inspection report. In the interests of truth and fairness Mellipop’s version is also contributed in each instance.
MARGOT’S VERSIONBedrooms All rooms in chaos. No sign of order. Beds unmade, mess everywhere. Mainly untidy.
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONBedrooms Margot is playing with the truth a bit here. The bed was unmade. And yes, we only have one bed, not plural “beds”. So one unmade bed becomes “chaos”, “mess everywhere” and “mainly untidy”. Presumably Margot makes her bed the very nano-second she gets up in the morning, every morning. On second thought, no she wouldn’t. The Devil does not sleep.
MARGOT’S VERSIONLoungeroom Furniture has been eaten.
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONLoungeroom Furniture has been eaten. OUR FURNITURE. Mellipop regulars would no doubt have seen the photographic evidence pertaining to what is left of our couch. Anton was supposed to have used our “Break in Case Guests Arrive” throw rug, mostly used in such situations to hide the damning evidence of our dog ownership (ie a less than pristine lounge suite - oh the horror). Though we hadn’t anticipated that our “guest” was going to arrive seven hours early so she got to see the couch in all it’s chewed up glory.
I always hated that couch anyway. It was never going to make it back to Sydney with us.... Any day now, kids.....
MARGOT’S VERSIONKitchen Untidy – dishes undone.
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONKitchen Tidy. Oven cleaned. All laminated surfaces and cupboard doors freshly scrubbed. Dishes done and stacked up on the drying rack. Margot is being a little generous with the truth here again. The Devil is left wanting in attention to detail.
MARGOT’S VERSIONLaundry Ditto (as in, “untidy” from her previous commentary on the kitchen).
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONLaundry For “ditto”, read “did not even enter the laundry”.
MARGOT’S VERSIONBathroom Didn’t bother to inspect it – judging by the rest of the house I had seen enough.
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONBathroom If Margot had “bothered” to do her job properly, the lazy motherfucker would have noted that the bathroom was actually clean, having been doused in Domestos and set ablaze the day before. The Devil is truly a lazy, incompetent, lying cunt. Though to her credit, she was at least honest enough in this one instance to admit that she hadn’t even looked at it before judging the room to be the same calibre of filth as the rest of the house. Nice work.
MARGOT’S VERSIONBack garden A complete wilderness.
MELLIPOP’S VERSIONBack garden There are a healthy abundance of trees, plants and grass (nicely trimmed) in our back garden. Was she expecting some topiary, a Japanese Zen garden or a suburban wog-style expanse of stark white concrete dotted with nude statues of ancient deities?
And good ol’ Margot wrapped it all up by saying:
“I’m sorry but I had nothing to compare against this inspection. As I had never seen it before I could only be aghast at its present condition. I would say any owner would not be happy at seeing the house in its present state”.
All I can say is that if Margot ever tires of her job as a scum-sucking, bottom-feeding real estate agent, she’ll make a great tabloid journalist. Grade-A cunt.
