This ain’t no roller disco
NS August 1st, 2007
Moving is not fun. Cleaning a rented flat before final inspection is even less fun. And even less fun than that is arguing with your landlady who barely speaks English about whether or not the floor was already like that when you moved in.
I hate to sound like a right-wing, immigrant-hating, Daily Mail reader, but in between the frustrating language barriers with her and also with the cleaning lady who came to purportedly clean my kitchen and bathroom (but didn’t finish the job and who apparently couldn’t tell me this because she speaks not a lick of English), I’m feeling a bit frazzled and yearning for the ability to understand and be understood.
I have a feeling the landlady might try to charge us for things that we aren’t responsible for (like the leaking pipe or the faulty electrics in the dining area) and I just don’t have the energy or willpower to go through a legal tussle again. So I’m having to bite my tongue and not get all worked up over these things and gracioiusly accept that being screwed out of money by greedy landlords and no-speaky-English cleaning ladies is just a part of life.
