Around midday on Friday my landlord called
me. He asked, “How are you?” and he has never asked, “How are you?” in the
twenty years that I’ve known him. I responded, “I’m okay, how are you?"
and I've never given him such a greeting. So obviously something bad was about
to happen. He said that he thought that I made a mistake when I paid the rent
because I’d forgotten that there was a rent increase. I told him that I did not
receive a proper rent increase. He asked what I meant. I told him to read it or
have either his lawyer or his wife read it so they could explain it to him. He
said, “Explain what? I gave you sixty days notice!” I said, “Read the notice.
It says you have to give ninety days notice.” As I expected he began shouting
and calling me an asshole. I told him to relax and follow the rules. "You
wanna follow the rules? You wanna follow the rules? You fucking asshole!” and
he hung up. The rent increase that he’d intended was about $13, which means
that if he submits a proper ninety day notice before February 1 then my
millionaire landlord will lose about $50. I live below the poverty line and lose
a lot more than he does every year from his rent increases and yet when I
receive a notice I do not start screaming and calling him names. I talk to a
lawyer to find out if it’s legal and if it is then I pay the increase. A few
years ago Raja got so stressed out that his stomach literally exploded. He’s a
Hindu and so I would think that he must know people that can direct him to some
yoga classes. I’m qualified myself but I doubt he would be willing to take
instruction from me.
I’d
noticed recently that there wasn’t as much money in my account as usual and
checked to see if I’d gotten my Toronto Housing Allowance for January. I hadn’t
but had forgotten exactly when the deposit is supposed to be made. I checked my
account and saw that the last deposit had been in the middle of December and so
I suddenly got worried that this was another program that Doug Ford had
cancelled. I called my worker but she didn’t even know that I’d been getting
the subsidy. I called the Ministry of Housing and found out that it hasn’t been
cancelled and that it is usually deposited on the 28th of every
month. I checked my account a little further back and saw that my November
deposit had been on the 28th and so I realized that the earlier
December deposit was just a pre-Christmas courtesy.
I
didn’t go outside at all on Friday and spent a lot of the day working on my
review of Shab-e She’r.
In
the evening I rubbed a pork shoulder roast with oregano, rosemary, olive oil,
wine vinegar, lime zest, lime juice, garlic, salt and cumin and roasted it for
two hours. I had a piece for dinner with a potato and two small carrots while
watching an episode of Peter Gunn.
This
story starts with a murder on a movie set. The producer hires Gunn to find the
killer. It turns out the guy who died was not even hired by the casting agency.
Gunn goes to his trailer and talks with the attractive and flirtatious early
middle-aged “interpretive” dancer who is in the process of painting herself for
her act. In the end he figures out that the movie producer is a former hood
that used the set to settle a score. There is a gunfight and of course
Lieutenant Jacoby shows up to save the day. The producer dies.
The
trailer park landlady was played by Tracey Roberts, who became more successful
as an acting coach and theatrical producer than as a film actor.
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