On Wednesday of this week Kelly and I got a call from our friend Michael, who had hooked us up with the original broker for the fake apt, and who now acts as our contact for this shady deal that should have been over and done with. The crazy landlady decided that we stayed at that apt for 16 days (which is a lie) and we learned that she was demanding we pay for the extra fictitious stay + utilities. We also learned that she knew where we lived could possibly show up at our door to demand it.
My kids were wiggly little munchkins all damn day, and the last thing that I wanted to do was come home and deal with more of this lady’s insanity – especially since it seemed that we’d have to give her even more of our money that she doesn’t deserve. I flew off the handle (like I sometimes do) and decided we would pay her nothing because she’s crazy and threatening our mental health. Kelly took the lead (as she sometimes does) and worked out a deal that we would pay for the 1 extra day that we were there and the utilities, only if the landlord and broker agreed to never bother us again. It took hours of calling and haggling and waiting and sweating and pacing for the deal to be worked out. Eventually we got the call that the deal was accepted. All told we spent another 200 RMB, which is about $30.
Friday after school Kel and I came home to find our electricity out, again. It happened once before, which left us huddling by candlelight for hours until Agent Kathy finally called the management. They re-plugged a wire in our hallway in 1 second and it was fixed. This second time the agents caught us on our way out to “the Wu” (Wudaokou) for some much needed weekend-starting drinks, and made us go back to our apartment so they could see for themselves that we are not idiots. Yes, our meters do have money. Yes, we did flip that switch. Yes, we did try everything you said. Yes, the electricity is STILL out, but thanks for wasting our time.
Then, in true time-wasting fashion, we stood around the center of our complex for nearly an hour while they called everyone from our landlord to the management to the electrical company. Even with a translator telling them “It is the wire that has come loose in the hallway” over and over, they still insisted we wait for the landlord…(and his magical ability to fix electricity??) One of the most frustrating things for me in China is not being able to communicate. Even with someone translating, no one listened to what we were saying.
Eventually my friend Erica came with us back to the apartment to get the card and she fixed our problem by putting the wire back herself. We snuck out to have a night of fun in the Wu. I ate a burger that sounded awesome but tasted too strange to eat. We got a “buy 2 get one free” deal on the strongest dirty martinis. Some crazy drunken Chinese girls let me try their drink (some blue concoction that I saw everywhere) and then pretended to jump out of the window to the dismay of the waiters and acoustic guitarist. We ended up at a bar called Pepper, which most closely resembled a NYC bar with lighting, old-school hip hop and hookah. The entire night Agent Kathy txted me about the problem with electricity in my apt., not in the hall.
Sure enough, the next morning I became the host of Kathy, the landlord, his wife, his 10 year-old daughter, and two electric workers. The entire time I held my breath for them to put together that there is one bed in this apartment, and two ladies. Lalas, we’re called in China. I suppose it didn’t help that I accidentally left out an article Erica had given me about LGBT China from Time Out NY. Whoops
I know what you’re thinking: this bitch is crazy. Moving to China. Being locked in apartments and living by candlelight. I swear, every other person that I know used an agent (even Agent Kathy), signed a lease, and has been living drama-free since day one. Sadly, this isn’t Beijing. It’s just my luck.
Success of the day: Bartering a sick hookah, coals, and strawberry tobacco for 195 RMB ($28) using Chinese numbers and my new phrase: doi shaow /How much.
My kids were wiggly little munchkins all damn day, and the last thing that I wanted to do was come home and deal with more of this lady’s insanity – especially since it seemed that we’d have to give her even more of our money that she doesn’t deserve. I flew off the handle (like I sometimes do) and decided we would pay her nothing because she’s crazy and threatening our mental health. Kelly took the lead (as she sometimes does) and worked out a deal that we would pay for the 1 extra day that we were there and the utilities, only if the landlord and broker agreed to never bother us again. It took hours of calling and haggling and waiting and sweating and pacing for the deal to be worked out. Eventually we got the call that the deal was accepted. All told we spent another 200 RMB, which is about $30.
Friday after school Kel and I came home to find our electricity out, again. It happened once before, which left us huddling by candlelight for hours until Agent Kathy finally called the management. They re-plugged a wire in our hallway in 1 second and it was fixed. This second time the agents caught us on our way out to “the Wu” (Wudaokou) for some much needed weekend-starting drinks, and made us go back to our apartment so they could see for themselves that we are not idiots. Yes, our meters do have money. Yes, we did flip that switch. Yes, we did try everything you said. Yes, the electricity is STILL out, but thanks for wasting our time.
Then, in true time-wasting fashion, we stood around the center of our complex for nearly an hour while they called everyone from our landlord to the management to the electrical company. Even with a translator telling them “It is the wire that has come loose in the hallway” over and over, they still insisted we wait for the landlord…(and his magical ability to fix electricity??) One of the most frustrating things for me in China is not being able to communicate. Even with someone translating, no one listened to what we were saying.
Eventually my friend Erica came with us back to the apartment to get the card and she fixed our problem by putting the wire back herself. We snuck out to have a night of fun in the Wu. I ate a burger that sounded awesome but tasted too strange to eat. We got a “buy 2 get one free” deal on the strongest dirty martinis. Some crazy drunken Chinese girls let me try their drink (some blue concoction that I saw everywhere) and then pretended to jump out of the window to the dismay of the waiters and acoustic guitarist. We ended up at a bar called Pepper, which most closely resembled a NYC bar with lighting, old-school hip hop and hookah. The entire night Agent Kathy txted me about the problem with electricity in my apt., not in the hall.
Sure enough, the next morning I became the host of Kathy, the landlord, his wife, his 10 year-old daughter, and two electric workers. The entire time I held my breath for them to put together that there is one bed in this apartment, and two ladies. Lalas, we’re called in China. I suppose it didn’t help that I accidentally left out an article Erica had given me about LGBT China from Time Out NY. Whoops
I know what you’re thinking: this bitch is crazy. Moving to China. Being locked in apartments and living by candlelight. I swear, every other person that I know used an agent (even Agent Kathy), signed a lease, and has been living drama-free since day one. Sadly, this isn’t Beijing. It’s just my luck.
Success of the day: Bartering a sick hookah, coals, and strawberry tobacco for 195 RMB ($28) using Chinese numbers and my new phrase: doi shaow /How much.
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