Lux Living is a blog written by and for the residents of nearby Stuyvesant Town and Peter Cooper Village. It is a WWII era housing complex that up until a few years ago, was run as if it were a private gated community in the middle of Manhattan. The residents, many of whom were born in the complex and have lived there for decades, have been spoiled rotten by years of over-indulgent amenities including private security, landscaping and all manner of rules and regulations, are now losing their minds as the complex was sold in one of the largest real estate deals in history. Hundreds if not thousands of the long-term tenants are paying as little as $600 in rent, despite the fact that they are successful professionals, doctors, lawyers or well-to-do retirees and new management has set about renting apartments to students, young professionals and non-whites. The following is lifted from a comment thread, in a post ostensibly about noise complaints lodged at other tenants. This is why I hate them:
Ah, Donalda... here's a nice fresh example of her inability to be helpful.
On Wednesday morning I submitted a maintenance request online to have one of the wee halogen light bulbs in the fixture over my kitchen sink replaced. By 9 AM this morning I'd not received a phone call to arrange a handyman visit.
I phoned Donalda and left v.m. (Does she *ever* answer her phone?) A couple hours later someone named Teresa (?) called to schedule an appointment for NEXT TUESDAY.
I chuckled and said, "Really? *I* can install the bulb; I just need a handful of replacements because they keep burning out."
"Is Tuesday at 4:15 good for you? Will you be home or does the handyman have permission to enter the apartment?"
"Wait a second. It would take all of thirty seconds for a handyman to stop by and give me the bulbs. Seriously, this cannot be accomplished until almost five days from now?
"Can I go and pick them up from the workshop or wherever?"
Trough clenched teeth I said Tuesday was fine and hung up. I immediately called Donalda for the second time this morning, left v.m. for the second time this morning, asking her to please call me back ASAP. That was around noon-ish. I've yet to hear back. She knows why I want to chat.
Here's an idea. How about you take some of the tens of thousands of dollars you don't pay in rent every year, get up off of your lazy spoiled ass and take a walk across the street to the hardware store and buy the fucking bulb yourself? You obviously (judging by the multiple phone calls) have plenty of free time.