Turn Left…um…Eventually
(The continuing race toward an adjective-free America)
I don't have a normal hobby, like collecting stamps, or training pit bulls to chew each other and write their name so they can sign their royalty checks over to NFL quarterbacks. But I do like to keep the old mental faculties well-oiled. So this week, I learned several new ways to get sued.
Now, don't scoff. Some of the ways I learned to get sued are pretty bizarre (literal translation: "the government must be involved"). For example, I can now get sued for phone malpractice!
What did you do this week? Can you get sued for phone malpractice?
What I'm talking about, of course, is that even-more-than-normally-simple-minded government program known as the Fair Housing Act.
Now, before you pop a blood vessel and start suing me for just talking about suing me, let me point out that I have nothing against the construction or intent of the original Fair Housing Act in 1968, nor its 1988 upgrade (Fair Housing, Version 2.0, civil Service Pack 3).
But what began as an honorable attempt to insure equality has, of course, mutated. It has morphed beyond recognition – as unchecked, overfunded government programs inevitably do – into that dread ghoul, that beast which cannot be fed.
Political Correctness.
Case in point. Let's say you're someone who owns an apartment complex. As you might imagine, potential tenants will call you. Hopefully. Otherwise, you will soon be someone who once owned an apartment complex.
That's not entirely true, of course. Rather than failing at owning an apartment complex, and then gracefully going out of business to try something else, you could just change your name from "Casa Del Mescalito Horizon Forest Manor Acres" to "Casa Del Mescalito Horizon Forest Manor Acres Savings & Loan," run out and buy a big money rake, and wait for the harvest. Or you could masquerade as a California solar panel manufacturer, collect Star Wars battlecruiser-sized loads of taxpayer cash, and then go out of business. (Oddly enough, these criminals never get sued).
But for now, while you're still running the apartment complex, potential tenants will call you. They'll call you for floor plan descriptions, square footage measurements, Management's views on concealed weapons permits, prices, deposits, directions, and to inquire about permission to bring their "baby," Lurker, a 285-pound Argentine Dogo with the larynx of a ticked-off banshee, a "pesky" intestinal imbalance and an actual FBI rap sheet.
And there's the rub. Thanks to the federal Hurt Feelings police at the Fair Housing Authority, you're hamstrung. You can no longer offer intelligent, helpful, informative answers to your tenants' questions.
Did you know that you can no longer refer to a large closet as a "walk-in" closet? Yep. According to the federal frumps at Fair Housing, if word ever got out that somebody somewhere had walked into a closet, then somebody somewhere else – somebody that has trouble walking, maybe – might get their feelings hurt. (Of course, people come out of closets all the time, although "walking" might be too pedestrian a term for the activity. But Closet Liberation Theology is handled by an entirely different federal department.)
Nor can you refer to your property as "within walking distance to the mall." See, in the federal government, they think so little of us that they've convinced themselves that we'll never make it without their manic nanny-like oversight. And their only solution, their only reaction, is to over-react: not every single human can walk, so let's just not mention walking, and then maybe walking will just go away.
I don't know how walking will go away, because, well, walking went away, right? But there's an entirely different federal department handling that. (It used to be NASA that handled such time-travel conundrums, but NASA now has the operational budget of a nine-year-old's lemonade stand, only with less pending lawsuits.)
It gets more weird. That largest bedroom in each apartment? You know, the one with the, um…the, uh…the drive-in closet? You can no longer refer to that room as the "master" bedroom. (However, there are specific IRS exemptions available if you are a gainfully employed Argentine Dogo rooming with your master, who happens to be an NFL quarterback.)
Next to be outlawed, I suppose, will be any references to the sitting room. Not everybody can just sit whenever they bloody well care to sit, you know. Especially if you're one of those enterprising apartment communities in the Rust Belt, pulling in a little extra coin by running a meth lab in the on-site Laundromat.
So, to help you fine-tune your telephony skills, here's yet another helpful quiz.
A prospect calls with a question about closet space. The federal Hurt Feelings police won't let you say "walk-in closet." How do you respond?
a) All our closets are walk-in closets. You just can't walk in very far.
b) Our bedrooms boast monstrous closets, once you get shoved in there. Ask about our personalized shoving service!
c) I don't know from "walk-in," but we once offered run-in closets. Made an absolute killing on forfeited security deposits.
While researching your competition, their saleswoman quotes this phrase from their marketing brochure: "Many residents have large dogs or alarms that will automatically call the police department." How do you respond?
a) Just pure coincidence, I guess, that you guys are running that "secret" meth lab in the Laundromat?
b) If your place is anything like my place, calling the police department is a briskly optimistic exercise.
c) Cool! Where can I get me one o' them phone-dialing dogs?
A prospect calls with a question about bedrooms. The federal Hurt Feelings police won't let you mention "master" bedroom. How do you respond?
a) All our units feature a humorously small bedroom and a ridiculously small bedroom. Legend has it that, once upon a time, someone almost slept in the "humor suite," but we can't confirm that.
b) The standard floor plan offers three sleeping cells; one dominant and two submissive. Were you interested in something more bitter?
c) Be sure to ask about our Simon Legree discount!
What is the proper way to answer a Customer Service phone call?
a) Hi, my name is Ted. Can I help you?
b) Hi, I'm Ted. I can help you.
c) Hi, I'm Ted, and if I can help you, nobody will be more surprised than me.
A prospect is interested in your apartment and asks about proximity to grocery stores. The federal Hurt Feelings police won't allow you to use the expression "within walking distance." How do you respond?
a) There are several grocery stores within alking-way istance-day.
b) Several grocery stores are unbelievably close, if you happen to have eight surface-gripping appendages!
c) Hey, I remember you! I took you to lunch, and you ate lunch twice, in my car, on the way to lunch. I need to hook you up with Kip, the guy who runs our Laundromat.
A tenant with a question about "maximum occupancy" calls to ask, "Somehow, I got pregnant. At what age do you recognize children?" How do you respond?
a) For the purposes of occupancy, we recognize children at birth.
b) For the purposes of occupancy, we recognize children at age two.
c) Somehow, ma'am? Somehow you got pregnant? Any idea who the mother is?
A prospect is interested in your apartment and asks for directions to the property. The federal Hurt Feelings Police won't allow you to mention the obvious landmark, that massive twenty-four-acre Protestant church on the corner. How do you respond?
a) Go three miles on Main, then turn left at the big pointy building.
b) Go four miles on Main, turn around, go back one mile, then turn right.
c) Drive down Main Street until you come to the only intersection within fifty-miles that doesn't have a pharmacy on the corner. Turn left.
A tenant calls with a question about their garage. How do you qualify their question?
a) If the garage is attached, ask the caller for the apartment number.
b) If the garage is detached, ask the caller for the garage number.
c) If the garage is not detached but just reticent, or a bit aloof, ask to speak to an adult garage.
So, there you are, citizens. Don't be idle! Get out there, find your litigious niche, and start getting sued for something!
If you have any other questions, feel free to come see us at El Permanente Los Wages Garden Estates At Blynken West, Phase IV. Just head down Broad Street and turn left at the First United Methodi…uh…just hang a left at the first intersection that has fabulous landscaping, no satellite dish, and a tax-exempt status.
No appointment necessary! Just walk right in and…um…ah…
Just, uh…just…
Please call to make an appointment.
