It was a bright and sunny afternoon, and I was gearing up for an inspection of several rental units newly transferred from another company to our program. I had my clipboard in hand, checklist at the ready, and a camera for documentation—everything I needed for a smooth visit at this oceanfront condo.
I was not prepared for this one. As I knocked on the door, it swung open with a creak, and there she was—a petite woman with a determined look in her eyes.
“Hi there, I’m just here for the inspection!” I said, flashing my best friendly smile.
Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned in slightly, almost conspiratorial. “Inspection, huh? You planning to take pictures?” She asked me before I chance to ask for her permission.
“Well, yes,” I replied, holding up my camera. “Just a few quick shots for our records. Standard procedure.”
That’s when things took a turn. She didn’t miss a beat before declaring, “If you try to take pictures, I’m gonna smash that camera into your head.”
She watched me like a hawk the entire time, making sure I wasn’t sneaking any photos. The inspection was brief—very brief. I made my way out as fast as I could without actually running.
It wasn’t until after I left that I found a note in the file that she was a diagnosed schizophrenic. Apparently, the previous property management company had used all the units they managed in this condominium project to place tenants with mental issues.
Everything is okay now that they all know us, and we know their caseworkers. I have learned to go through entire files, if there are any, before meeting new tenants.
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