The Sword on the Upper Part…

Posted: December 15, 2010 in Uncategorized



It really irks the fuck out of me to deal with the devil sometimes because he always operates under the assumption that he can bullshit you and slip it past you in a fine mist. Then, when you call him on it, he’ll strive to de-humanize the situation in order to switch the current of allah I rule by actin’ as if you aren’t justified in freezin’ his ass with your wisdom. He better dress warm fuckin’ wit me, word is bond. Don’t worry, imma manifest the source of my anger in one C-Medina minute. Self cipher I just moved into a new apartment on the power day of this month. On the understandin’ day, I took off from the justice to go up to the realty company and sign the lease. Ironically enough, it’s located directly accross the street from Mosque Maryam in the hood, but when you go inside it’s full of colored people. Go figure.

So I sit down with this grafted man and go over this thick ass packet of documents, do the knowledge, sign & initial in all of the prescribed spots. I was told before I got there that a stove & refigerator would be provided so I asked him to confirm that and he did. He also gave me an envelope with some stickers for my bell & mailbox along with some envelopes to pay rent with. He seemed cool but (a) he’s devil & (b) my born degree cautions me not to take shit on face value. On the front of the big envelope he writes the name and phone number of the nigga that “manages” the building and tells me to just call him if I need anything and he’ll help me out. Suuuurrrrreeeee he would.

Now he never gave me a definitive time frame within which my stove & fridge would be delivered so I started callin’ the black dude the day I moved in to find out the science. Aside from speaking with him briefly a few hours before the move, I haven’t reached him since. This is after at least equality phone calls, wisdom voice mails, and a text message between the power & build days. Fast forward to the build day. I call the colored man and run down my issues which now include the fact that the locks on my front door need to be tightened up, the light for the ceiling fan in the dining room doesn’t work, and my mailbox doesn’t lock. He asks me to email him my concerns and I do within minutes. I still have yet to get a response. Of course at this point I’m gettin’ pissed. I call back up to the office today and talk to the devil and he acts all fake empathetic and asks if I can call him back. I call him back this evening and he tells me that within the next day or two the shit should be resolved. What irked me about it was that he made it seem like I was stressin’ the urgency too hard or somethin’ when neither he nor his slave bothered to respond to any of my correspondence. I also drew up how he never gives definitive answers when you pressure him, as far as dates and times.

Little does he know, I already called the company that linked me up with them and complained. I’ve also done some prelimenary research on renter’s rights and the steps I can take if they don’t show and prove. I know that they do business like this because they assume that every tenant is a ghetto ass 85er with no gumption or business sense. They  probably don’t have tenants put this type of heat on him typically but I don’t give a fuck. One of the Gods gave me a jewel. He said whenever the devil fucks up, you send the devil to set him straight. True indeed. If this shit isn’t resolved by Friday, I’m kickin’ the dealings up a notch and makin’ some more calls to alert the appropriate authorities. This is why he has to wear a sword on the upper part of the flag so he can always see it. I’ll show it to that muthafucka!



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