March 13, 2013

Why I hate being on call....

As most of you are probably aware by now, I manage apartments. Probably the single thing I hate most about it is the company cell phone that I have to carry at all times. I am also supposed to answer it any time it rings, day or night. The primary reason is because it's the number residents can call 24/7 for maintenance emergencies. I don't mind that so much... those are few and far between, and I can see that as a necessary evil.

What I mind, however, is the fact that the same phone number is the number that people who view our Craigslist ad are directed to call for more information. So when the phone rings, it could be a resident calling with a maintenance emergency, but more often it's someone wanting to know how much it is for a two bedroom apartment. One of these groups of people I can safely ignore for the hour I'm in church, the other I can't. Unfortunately, I have no way of knowing which it is unless I answer the phone. I don't know whose idea this setup was, but I don't like it, and occasions like this morning are why.

This morning I decided to dye my hair, which I've been trying to find a chunk of time to do since I bought the dye a couple of weeks ago. This says something about my life... I can't find an uninterrupted hour in which to put goo on my head and wash it out. But I digress... my point is that I decided I was going to do it this morning, come hell or high water. So I was busily pouring black goo on my head when I hear the company cell phone ringing in on my bed where I left it.

ME: (inside my head) Crap... it's probably a sales call. I'll just ignore it and call them back if they leave a message.

And I go about my business, and I hear the missed call beep. Less than a minute later, it rings again. This usually means one of two things: 1) it's a resident with a maintenance emergency and they're mad that I didn't answer the phone, or 2) it's a sales caller who refuses to accept that the property might not be open for business at 8 AM.  It was also possible that it could have been two separate callers. So I sighed, took off the gloves, and started racing down the hall to get the phone, splattering blue-black hair dye on the bathroom wall in the process. I missed the call, and when I looked at the missed calls it was the same number twice. And it wasn't one I recognized, but that doesn't mean it's not a resident... just means it's not a resident who calls often.

So I started carrying the phone back toward the bathroom and dialed the call I missed. Here's the entire course of the conversation:

ME: Hi, this is Meagan from ___________ Apartments. I just missed a call from this number.
HIM: Oh, yeah. I was looking at your ad on Craigslist for 2 bedroom 1 bathroom apartments and I had a question. What school district are you in?
ME: Centennial.
HIM: Okay, thanks ma'am. (hangs up)

Well, crap. Now to deal with the hair dye on the bathroom wall. At my old apartment in Molalla I had dealt with this before. Spray with Awesome, wipe, done. This is when I discovered that my employer apparently uses cheap paint... it took the paint right off the wall.

I guess it's fortunate that I'm the manager and have keys to the paint room. Is it Friday yet?

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