Everybody stinks (except for you, the person reading this).
So, things have gone down more or less as expected. The meeting of the strata council came and went, and I was not invited to speak in my own defense. But as it turns out, this is a moot point, as it was not I who needed defending.
Rather, my landlord was apparently held to blame for not making any effort whatsoever to control his unruly tenant, Vince. I had expressed a similar sentiment, of course, pointing out how deeply I resented the fact that I had not had it relayed to me that Vince was doing all this terrible crap, and thus was unable to do anything about it. But my landlord simply did not care to become involved, and so let the matter fester.
And so the decision was made to kick out my landlord's remaining tenant - that being me - in order to punish him; he would lose the rent revenue, and need to go to the time, trouble and expense of preparing the suite for a future tenant.
The ironty here is that he was planning on selling the place some time next year anyways, and he likely views this as a blessing; he can now do so earlier, and get out of this landlording business that he had plainly grown bored of anyways.
And so, a punishment comes down solely upon my head to punish two people who will feel no ill effects from it, and who stand to learn nothing from it. Meanwhile, I lose my home of six years.
I can't pretend not to feel a little on the bitter side from all of this.
Another tidbit which has come out of this seems to serve as the final puzzle piece which reveals the whole puzzle to me; I'm told that Vince told someone on the Strata Council about the bedbugs before I did (which, it was suggested, might mean that I was trying to keep secrets and thus deserved to be kicked out on my own faults). This startled me as I recalled clearly going and talking to the noxious president of the council the very day I first learned I had them. So when did Vince have the time to tell anyone?
As it turns out, he knew about them long before I did, but never told me about them, but DID tell others about them. When I told him I had discovered them, he claimed not to have any in his room and affected surprise. Later, when exterminators came around, he still claimed to have none, and so there was no reason for them to enter his room. Later still, when I confronted him about their re-appearance, he again affected surprise, claiming never to have seen them.
During my cleaning out of his crap, I not only found nests of them in his room that plainly went back a very, very long time, I found dozens of empty tubes of hydrocortisone cream (which I may be mis-spelling, but I don't have a spell-checker at hand here and now). This is an itch cream.
It now becomes clear: He got them before I did, and did everything in his power to hide this fact for a full year and a half, even if doing so meant preventing them from being eliminated and meant constant itching for a year and a half.
It's never been more clear that he is actually mentally ill.
Now I just need to exterminate them all in the time I have left before I have to move, in order to make sure I don't carry Vince's curse with me to my new home. Because if even a couple of them cling to any bit of furniture I bring with me, I could continue to syffer from Vince's madness for many, many months to come.
Rather, my landlord was apparently held to blame for not making any effort whatsoever to control his unruly tenant, Vince. I had expressed a similar sentiment, of course, pointing out how deeply I resented the fact that I had not had it relayed to me that Vince was doing all this terrible crap, and thus was unable to do anything about it. But my landlord simply did not care to become involved, and so let the matter fester.
And so the decision was made to kick out my landlord's remaining tenant - that being me - in order to punish him; he would lose the rent revenue, and need to go to the time, trouble and expense of preparing the suite for a future tenant.
The ironty here is that he was planning on selling the place some time next year anyways, and he likely views this as a blessing; he can now do so earlier, and get out of this landlording business that he had plainly grown bored of anyways.
And so, a punishment comes down solely upon my head to punish two people who will feel no ill effects from it, and who stand to learn nothing from it. Meanwhile, I lose my home of six years.
I can't pretend not to feel a little on the bitter side from all of this.
Another tidbit which has come out of this seems to serve as the final puzzle piece which reveals the whole puzzle to me; I'm told that Vince told someone on the Strata Council about the bedbugs before I did (which, it was suggested, might mean that I was trying to keep secrets and thus deserved to be kicked out on my own faults). This startled me as I recalled clearly going and talking to the noxious president of the council the very day I first learned I had them. So when did Vince have the time to tell anyone?
As it turns out, he knew about them long before I did, but never told me about them, but DID tell others about them. When I told him I had discovered them, he claimed not to have any in his room and affected surprise. Later, when exterminators came around, he still claimed to have none, and so there was no reason for them to enter his room. Later still, when I confronted him about their re-appearance, he again affected surprise, claiming never to have seen them.
During my cleaning out of his crap, I not only found nests of them in his room that plainly went back a very, very long time, I found dozens of empty tubes of hydrocortisone cream (which I may be mis-spelling, but I don't have a spell-checker at hand here and now). This is an itch cream.
It now becomes clear: He got them before I did, and did everything in his power to hide this fact for a full year and a half, even if doing so meant preventing them from being eliminated and meant constant itching for a year and a half.
It's never been more clear that he is actually mentally ill.
Now I just need to exterminate them all in the time I have left before I have to move, in order to make sure I don't carry Vince's curse with me to my new home. Because if even a couple of them cling to any bit of furniture I bring with me, I could continue to syffer from Vince's madness for many, many months to come.