Imagine yourself stepping out of your apartment, the sun is smiling down on you, birds are singing to welcome in the new day, and then the sweet fragrant smell of…poop hits your nose. You begin to look around at your feet and find not 1, not 2, not even 3, but 10 piles of doggy turds all over the grass in front of your apartment. I’m sure several choice words would come to mind. Well welcome to my world for the past 5 months. Five long, poop covered months. I know who the culprits are, my neighbors, apartment 525 to be exact. You must be asking me, “Why haven’t you called the management?” Oh my dear friend, I have, many times. Supposedly they take action every time, however, the poop keeps coming. I have concluded that my apartment managers are either a bunch of dirty liars or the poop bandits could care less. I have officially reached the end of my rope. To speak freely, the S%^# has hit the fan (pun completely intended). I am taking offers for ideas of how to further handle the situation. Today, I have typed up a friendly letter to leave on their door, if this does not work, no more Miss Nice Jenna. I have had several options given to me:
1) Move (my lease is up in March)
2) Pick up the poop and leave it on a bag on their doorstep
3) Fling the poop onto their balcony
4) Smear the poop right outside their door so they have no choice but to step in it.
Any further options are more than welcome.
A girl can dream, can't she?
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