If it’s war they want, it’s war they will get

A number of things can quickly take the shine off moving to a big city in a new country. It doesn’t matter that you might have visited a number of times before and you’d always had a great time, once you actually live there it’s a totally difference experience. The magic seems to evaporate, the wonderment vanishes and the amazement and awe transforms into frustration and annoyance. Trying to find a job is almost always guaranteed to have this effect and quite often so is trying to find good, local supermarkets that sell items you’re so used buying with ease back home. And so is finding yourself at war with your new management company because water damage from a leaking dishwasher means your kitchen has to be completely ripped out after just four weeks of moving in. Oh, but that’s just the half of it.

Firstly, a little background. At the time I had been living in Los Angeles in a newly refurbished apartment just a stone’s throw from Venice Beach. After a little under one year, a decision was made for a number of reasons to instead resort to Plan B, which basically meant moving to New York. It had taken two weeks of intense flat hunting back in July to find the new apartment and coincidentally this too was reconditioned, with a new wooden floor and brand spanking new kitchen appliances. Everything that couldn’t fit into a ‘mid-sized SUV’ was either sold on Craig’s List or packed up for shipping and then the 8-day, 3,529 mile journey began through 14 states from the City of Angels all the way to the Big Apple.

Arriving in Battery Park City at about lunchtime on August 15th, I was a little surprised to find workman still in the apartment. However, I was assured that they were just completing the final touches so continued with unpacking the car. Despite being equipped with just an inflatable bed, a postage stamp-sized TV and a handful of takeaway menus, my New York Adventure was beginning. The apartment is way up on the 30th floor apartment and offers a pretty amazing view looking south over Battery Park, New York Harbour, Governor’s Island and the Verrazano Bridge. For the first few days I struggled to believe I was actually living in Manhattan and spent hours just staring out of the window. Ever since my first visit in 1997 – and like every single other person who has ever visited New York City – I have been enamoured by its unique appeal.

A few days passed and the rest of my belongings finally caught up with me. In the meantime, I’d ordered one or two IKEA items and in an attempt to save money had opted to take the MENSA test of furniture assembly and put them together myself. It goes without saying that took a few more days. Then one morning I noticed that the kitchen sink appeared to be leaking. I placed some paper towel roll sheets underneath the pipes and left them overnight to confirm this. Sure enough, it was clear there was a problem. About a day after I also noticed pools of water collecting under the dishwasher unit so I contacted the Management Company and they sent a representative around the following afternoon. The sink was fixed with little trouble, but I was told I might need a totally new dishwasher.

All correspondence at this point was over email since a personal visit to the actual office of the Management Company only resulted in a painful attempt to conduct conversation through what genuinely seemed to be bullet-proof glass with a low-ranking employee and a phone call resulted in the same low-ranking employee taking a message that would ultimately never be returned. I began to write to a lady by the name of Roseann, since I was told she was apparently responsible for dealing with customer relations. After a number of emails sent, I still hadn’t received any definitive response and I was surprised when a worker showed up unannounced a day or so later with parts to fix the original unit. Finally, I thought my troubles were over, but this was just the beginning.

Roughly two and a half weeks later I first noticed the tell-tale signs of water damage on the floorboards around the kitchen area. Incidentally, this was also after I found mouse droppings on my kitchen floor on two separate occasions. I contacted the Management Company once again and attempted to stress the seriousness of this situation. A number of representatives visited my apartment over the next two days, in ascending order of hierarchy, beginning with the lowliest minion and gradually rising to include the superintendent, building manager, their friends and their friend’s tennis partners. Upon being shown how the damage was clearly radiating out from the sink and dishwasher areas, each one in turn sucked air in through their teeth, exhaled and slowly nodded their head as they agreed the problem was indeed water damage.

At this stage I was getting more than a little frustrated. The apathy displayed by the Management Company was frankly staggering. I had also begun to email a gentleman called Gregory who was the General Manager of Gateway Residential Management LLC, since Roseann barely even replied to any of my emails, let alone ever called me back.

One minion by the name of Kaufman was sent over a number of times during this debacle. Granted he was impeccably presented, with his hipster-looking, tight-and-a-little-too-short-style trousers and smart, shiny shoes sans socks, but he’s barely the other side of puberty. Evidently, this poor boy was sent to convince me that there was no real problem and that this kind of thing happens all the time. Naturally I was a little startled to hear this and raised the issue in an email.

“I was referring to the leaking of water from appliances and kitchen pipes. That is a common problem because of clog pipes and water lines in a 400+ apartment complex,” he replied. This still didn’t make me feel much better.

Finally, I managed to convince them that the only way to prevent more damage and ultimately the entire apartment smelling of mold and mildew was to remove and replace the kitchen flooring. It didn’t seem to register with the Management Company that was beneficial to both them and me in the long term.

Then, on Thursday 25th September, two representatives arrived and with an extremely loud circular saw began cutting the floorboards around the units. Straight away this made me wonder if this really was the best course of action – I mean what idiot instructed them to cut around the units?! However, I tried as best as I could to concentrate on something else and decided instead to wait until a cross-section of floor was visible. My theory was this: if the units had been placed first and the floor laid around them, then yes, this unconventional approach could work. But if the floor had been laid and then the units fitted, of course this wasn’t going to work. The flooring under the units would undoubtedly also be water-logged.

As suspected, the units had been fitted on top of the floorboards, which when lifted up revealed huge pools of water. At this stage I called the Management Office repeatedly and asked that Roseann visit the apartment as soon as possible that afternoon, since it was now perfectly clear that the entire kitchen would have to ripped out. I received no reply, despite a number of efforts to contact her. Without a doubt this situation required her presence and she did not even so much as return an email that day.

Young Kaufman was sent to assess the situation instead and since he’s been programmed to downplay any difficulty and devalue every disaster, he became quickly confused and defaulted to calling the Management Company for new instructions. Finally, after everyone from the superintendent, the building manager, their friends and their friend’s tennis partners were called to once again inspect my now-ruined kitchen and they all finally agreed that the only way to solve this was to removed all the units.

Meanwhile, my job was taking me overseas in a few days, so when presented with the option of work starting the very next day – Friday, resulting in me being without a kitchen for the weekend, or waiting until Monday, I chose the latter. Instead, I changed my flight to Sunday to ensure I was no where near my apartment when they took everything out and cut up the floor. Naturally, before I left I had to cover as much as possible in makeshift dust sheets, pack up and move everything in the kitchen cupboards and throw away all food that was in the fridge and freezer.

At this stage I started to raise the issue of compensation and since I had so far been thoroughly unimpressed with the way Roseann, and indeed the entire Management Company, had handled the situation. Kaufman to his credit emailed me a few photographs as the work was undertaken (albeit they didn’t really show much detail) which I was grateful for…and the Management Company made me an offer of $650 compensation.

But upon my return to the apartment, two weeks later, after a seven-hour flight, I found my front door had been left unlocked, two requests had been ignored (the boarding up of a hole and the repair of a faulty electrical socket) but worst of all…the bathroom was left with the light still on, the toilet seat up and drops of dried urine stains were on my bathroom floor. Dried urine. I can’t think of anything quite so utterly disgusting and shockingly disrespectful. I took photographs and emailed the Management Company immediately.

Let’s just say that I’ve been…adequately educated and I return the toilet seat to it’s closed position following use on each occasion. So this was without any doubt not the condition in which it was left.

So, how did the Management Company react when I sent this email..?

“Hi Scott,
I apologize for the below.
We can have someone seal up the hole and do a deep cleaning of your bathroom. Please advise when you are available for Gateway personnel to stop by.
Thank you.”

That was it. Some fucker dribbles piss while having a whizz in my bathroom, doesn’t bother to wipe it up and I all I get from young Kaufman is: “I apologize for the below.” Holy shit, this guy really needs to be sent on a customer relations course. I write an email to Gregory once again in which I express my displeasure with the total lack of any consideration on their side and ask that they revise their offer of compensation.

“If you do not feel comfortable with living at Gateway we respect your feelings and if necessary we can offer to allow you to terminate your lease early at your convenience without penalty,” he replies. Which, in short, equates to “take it, or move out”. I write to him once again, this time without CC’ing anyone else and suggest that: “Perhaps we could meet in person. I feel this matter might better be discussed face to face” to which he replies: ” I am not sure what a face to face meeting will solve.”

Surely if he had suggested that we should meet, given me a cheque for the offered amount of compensation, looked me in the eye, apologised profusely and shaken my hand…then maybe all this could be concluded in a significantly more dignified, respectful and efficient manner.

At this stage though there’s little more I can do. As I understand, the compensation amount will be deducted from next month’s rent. And that’s it. But boy, has it really taken the fun out of being in New York.

On the up side, I think the mouse has moved on.