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Trophies Thank Those with Thankless Jobs
By Riley
Congratulations to everyone presented with a San Francisco Apartment Association Trophy Award. These awards are given to people who work in an industry where “thank you” is not heard often enough. Landlords, management companies and resident managers hear complaints and threats more than they hear heartfelt thanks. Tenants expect to do what they like in their rental property homes and do not like the idea that someone living amongst them can enforce a lease, demand that they succumb to house rules or, in some instances, introduce them to common sense. Thanks, recognition for a job well done or just a “How are you?” without a complaint are appreciated in any form. The Trophy Awards let professionals in a tough industry know that their work is valued.
In the first months of my employment, I had two experiences with the thanklessness of my position. The very first morning I woke up in my new home, I found vomit in the elevator. Understand that this is a building in an upscale neighborhood; it is not a building in the bowels of a bad neighborhood with transients living in the common areas, or even a building with an ill person who could not control the bodily functions most of us take for granted. As I was cleaning the elevator the best I could in between calls to get the carpet replaced, a couple of tenants walked by and said, “Ewww, gross. Sucks to be you.” Granted, these tenants were the first of the dot-com age; they had no social graces, too much money and too much youth, but still there were no thanks for the fact that I was doing a job that no one outside of a hip bar or a hospital should deal with on their first day.
My next clue as to the thanklessness of my job was a telephone call from a tenant at four in the morning. She had ordered a pizza and could not remember how to buzz someone in on the intercom. I was not so gracious to this tenant and her predicament. In fact, she was the first tenant I “let have it.” After explaining, with hostility and no hint of customer service, that she could go down and let the pizza delivery in herself, I immediately wrote a letter as to the proper decorum in which to conduct oneself within our community. The immediate response was that the old manager did not mind if the tenants called at any time with any request. My response was that the old manager was gone and that I would appreciate some respect for my time. To this day, over a decade later, I still have some tenants who have not forgiven me for being the new sheriff in town and enforcing the rules. They would never think to thank me for bringing their packages to their door instead of leaving them in the lobby, or for keeping the building clean and well run.
As the years went on and those who did not survive the demise of the dot-com era left, I still found that saying “thank you” and/or appreciating a job well done in the building was an action that most tenants did not feel was deserved. Getting a toilet fixed on the same day the problem was reported or keeping the building spotless was expected, and because there was a problem with the toilet in the first place, I must have been delinquent. Certainly, no thanks were necessary.
My next example of thanklessness came from a longtime tenant. When he sees me he says “hello” and then he says the phrase that in recent years makes my shoulders tense up with dread: “Just a head’s up.” On this particular day, I was actually sitting in front of the elevator scrubbing out the door tracks with a toothbrush and heavy duty cleanser; it’s a chore that most of the tenants do not notice or care about, but I notice and I want the tracks to match the rest of the building—clean. He walked up and said, “Just a head’s up, maybe you should clean once in a while because I saw a fly outside on the sidewalk.” I was flabbergasted. Here I was sitting on the floor and cleaning out the tracks on the elevator because it was the only dirt I could find in the building, now I need to make sure that no fly should land on a city sidewalk?
My favorite example of the day-to-day work done without appreciation is one that I believe saved a tenant’s life. It was a normal Sunday morning—all of the tenants were tucked nicely in their units—when I noticed steam coming out of the laundry room. On closer inspection, not only was steam billowing out of the room, but there were gallons of boiling hot water all over the floor. It was a situation that so many of us have dealt with, almost always on a weekend or holiday: the hot water tank bottomed out. No one saw it coming, there was no telltale rust or dripping water; the hot-water system died and, unfortunately, in its demise it flooded the laundry room and left the amenity useless for two days. Of course, normally Sunday is the day of battle in the laundry room. Even though it remains unused on most weekdays and even weeknights, on the weekends it is cut throat. I posted a notice reading, “No wash today due to emergency maintenance,” as there was no way for my plumbing company to get a tank in that day.
The building is large enough to have two huge tanks, so, through bypass, the units still had hot water. I felt I had averted a crisis and was quite pleased with myself. However, that night I saw the light on in the laundry room and in went to explore. Standing in the middle of a huge amount of water was a tenant, in her bare feet, with the plug for the dryer in her hand, one moment away from plugging it in. I yelled, “Stop! What are you doing?” The tenant looked at me like I was insane and said, “Your sign says that there is no wash today, it doesn’t say anything about the dryers.” She stomped off in a huff muttering under her breath that I was rude and should be clearer with my signs. She never uttered any thanks for possibly keeping her from electrocution. She had carefully taken her laundry to the laundromat down the street and brought it back wet to finish her chore; disaster or not, she was going to use the amenity she was used to. I thought I saved her life or at least kept her from the potential of standing in a puddle and getting a jolt before the circuit blew. All she saw in the situation was that now she had wet clothes and I had not allowed her to do what she wanted to do.
This tenant has also asked if she could rip out all the carpet in her unit because it is not organic, or if she could paint all of the rooms cosmic green. I tell her that I’m sorry, but the lease doesn’t allow it, and then I see the same look from that day in the laundry room that says, “All you do is say no.”
The Trophy Awards recognize many who work tirelessly to bring landlords and tenants together. I write my column this month not only to say thank you to those who were recognized, but also to say thank you to those who were not. Cleaning up vomit, answering the telephone at all hours of the night, tirelessly cleaning up after tenants who not only do not see the dirt but also leave a trail, and potentially saving someone from a tragic lack of common sense is the life of a resident manager in San Francisco. To those who were recognized, I strive to be like you and, in future years, to be recognized in the same way. To those who were nominated, I salute you. To those who tirelessly work every day making their buildings a great place to live, I thank you.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of SFAA or SF Apartment Magazine. “Riley” has been a San Francisco resident manager in a large, well cared for building for 12 years. The names of the tenants, as well as the columnist, have been changed to protect the building and all involved from the court system and irate neighbors. Copyright © 2008 by SF Apartment Magazine. All rights reserved.