OPINION: If you're like me, you expect a certain style of living in a condo complex. After all, you paid a significant sum for what you assumed would be a peaceful, comfortable existence free of yapping dogs, noisy neighbors and other irritants you thought you'd left behind.
But these, apparently, are different times.
Many of the owners who bought what essentially were tax shelters are now renting them to make money. Instead of young (or old) couples enjoying their time together, we have scads of kids, many who bring their friends around.
Not that I detest the sound of children. Far from it. It's just difficult when, after a long day's work, you sit near the window, ready to simply breathe -- and are startled by the shriek of a kid in the pool. Sounds like an air-raid siren.
It goes beyond that, though.
Pride of ownership isn't a concept for those who leave all the items the signs say you're not supposed to leave in the trash rooms at the end of the hall, anyway. Or don't return carts once they've finished with them, leaving them outside their door -- or even near the elevators -- as if room service is going to pick them up.
Respect for others isn't demonstrated when a heavily perfumed muscle boy brings his boombox (remember them?) to the pool. Or worse yet, when not one but two couples bring their miniature bark machines. If I catch any of those furballs in the water, I'm reaching for my paintball gun.
Our most recent incident annoyance involved a new couple who used their patio for storage space. They had a streetlamp with plastic bags hanging from it, plastic Rubberware coolers piled around the place, and assorted other lawn junk lying around.
Had it been their first week or so, I'd have understood. But a month later it still looked like someone's garage. It was the first thing my wife and I saw every time we looked out our window.
I emailed the development manager, who was here within hours.
"As you know, they are permitted to have certain patio/furniture on the terrace, as each resident is," he said. "However, I will certainly ask them to clean it up."
He said he'd also ask them to be more considerate of their neighbors.
Sure as sunshine, the cleanup began immediately. The place looks lovely now.
Some would have just let it go, I'm sure. But, as I told our ever-attentive building manager, I'm the slippery-slope type. You let one thing go, and the next thing y'know, someone's turned their terrace into a machine shop.
The good news is that everyone got some measure of satisfaction in the end -- at least I hope so. I didn't have to mix it up with strangers (clearly not a wise move); the building manager got to exert his authority while being a very cool guy; and maybe the folks across the way learned a little about the pride we take in our development.
My wife, for one, was thrilled that I'd avoided any conflict whatsoever by going through channels.
"That's what management is there for," she said.
From her lips to God's lease arrangement.
