Laura Russell is a well know slumlord even to the proprietors the esteemed web site www.luckyface.org. In the nearly five years that I rented from her, my roof was never leak free for a span of more than a few weeks. In fact every time a hurricane came through it left the gift of a hole in my ceiling where the water had weighed down the drywall to the point of collapse. The hole usually remained for a few months before being repaired. Last year New Orleans was hit by two consecutive hurricanes, and there in my kitchen ceiling were two holes gapping at me like the two large eyes of Laura Russell, and behind those eyes was rottenness.

She operates by suckering new students into her apartments, which look really cool upon a periphery inspection. They are usually old Victorian houses sectioned off into apartments, with hardwood floors and nice looking windows. But once your in and have signed the year lease, the plumbing is proved atrocious, floors give beneath your feet, and the whole fa�ade gives way to a deathtrap. If your break the lease your lose your deposit giving her an extra months rent and she starts the cycle over again. And, of course, you’ll never get your deposit back regardless of how clean, and in what shape you leave the apartment.

Having all this knowledge in my head, and being relatively passive as I am, I saw no need to move over the nearly five years, mainly because I’m too lazy. Also, why move from slumlord to slumlord, if they all keep your deposit, and you pay an extra month’s rent every year. I saw the deposit as my chance to live in the house as I desired, keeping the cleanliness to my standards, and not caring about others. If I wasn’t going to get it back anyway, why worry about the deposit, just use it to justify my lifestyle. The wall murals looked very nice to me.

Slowly over much time I hatched a plan to leave. I wanted to live next door to Clay in a double shotgun if I could. Buying would be nice, but there was a problem. Laura (Clay’s wife, not Laura Russell) and I had the down payment, Rebecca had the credit, and Clay had the future job. All together we made the perfect prospect for a loan from any reputable bank, but taken apart, I had no credit, Laura had bad credit, Rebecca was unstable in her work environment, and Clay was, as of yet, unemployed, so much for buying. We decided to rent for a year or two, and buy in the near future. Clay found a perfect place on Magazine a block from Audubon park, and all the sudden I felt I might could live in that cool a neighborhood.

It was July tenth, the realtor had called and said we were approved and could move in when we liked. Rebecca and I opted for the fifteenth, and Clay and Laura opted for the first of August. I got a call at work from Laura Russell, “Hey Phillip, It’s Laura, I got a call from . . . did you pay rent this month.”

“Yes I did.” I knew then that the realtors had called her to see if I really had put up with her for five years. When I was filling out the application for the apartment, the realtor saw Russell’s name and said she wouldn’t even bother to call her. “We bought from her once, nothing but problems, the whole place was falling apart. She doesn’t fix anything.” As I said her name is infamous. But apparently she had called and Laura had confirmed that my residence was for so long a duration.

I had, in fact, paid my rent and upon confirming that the check was sent, Laura Russell went into a long shpeal about how I must be sending it to an old P.O. box and they all the mail sent there gets forwarded to the new one. “It takes a few days sometimes, We can just wait” she said. Odd that she wouldn’t dare to give anyone her address eh? And why change the box so often? “By the way, I got a call from a realty agency, are you moving out soon?” Now I was intending to move out over the month and just let her keep the deposit which she was going to keep anyway, I told her I’d be out on the first of the month even though my moving day was the fifteenth, five days hence. “Well you know you’re required to give thirty days notice don’t you?”

“Okay,” I said “today’s the tenth, I’ll give you till the fifteen of next month and you can cut me a check for half my deposit.” No skin off my teeth, I wasn’t going to see that money anyway. Once again, I may as well use it, this time as a bargaining chip.

She laughed nervously. “Well it doesn’t really work that way, you have to give your notice on the first of the month. If it rents before the fifteen I’ll be fine with that, but if it doesn’t you’ll have to pay for August too.”

I wasn’t so sure about that first of the month part, but I went home and started cleaning my apartment vigorously. I didn’t want to cheat anyone, and I didn’t want to be an ass either, so I wanted the place to be clean for the next tenet, even though it would be much like a white washed tomb. I got my lease down and checked it. Still perfectly intact after five years, it said nothing about giving notice on the first, it did state that it renewed itself on a monthly basis upon it’s expiration, and written notification of termination was required thirty days before either party exited the contract. With this knowledge I typed up a letter informing her of my discovery and of my imminent departure I enclosed a copy of the lease with the pertinent portions highlighted, and I had two witnesses sign two separate copies as to the date sent, one for me and one for her. I felt pretty good.

On the fifteenth of July, one month before departing the current premises, my new apartment became available for me to move in. I planned on moving in my refrigerated stuff on that evening, having already changed over the power, phone, and all other necessities. I would then leisurely move out over the month and give the apartment a good cleaning, to wipe away five years of my filth. Not that I believed for one second that I would gain my deposit for this, but only because I wasn’t intending on torturing the next guy for my laziness, and I was certain that Laura Russell would do little repair.

The day before this plan was to spring into action I got a call at work. “Phillip, it’s Laura . . .”

“Did you get my check?”

“No we haven’t got it yet, we need that money today, can I stop by this afternoon and pick it up?”

I was expecting this. I told her that I didn’t have the check number and couldn’t stop payment on the old one, so if she could wait till I got my bank statement and I could figure out the number I’d be glad to pay her after I stopped payment on the old one. So began a long battle that day over the phone. I figured she would keep my deposit, that is in her character from all the in indications I got from all the friends I made who moved out immediately upon the termination of her lease. But I did not expect her to try to charge me for another month, and turn around and tell me she never got my check for the past month either. Basically she wanted three months rent for one. I was not inclined to give it up. I’m not a hero, and can’t say I’m not nervous in the face of a bully, which she is, but I think I carried myself quite well.

We traded lines like boxers trade licks, sweat dripping from both foes. “I find it highly odd that the first time you don’t receive my rent is the time you hear I’m moving out.” I expected her to retort with the reverse, that it was odd that the first time she doesn’t get my rent is the time she hears I’m moving out, but I was not met with that counter. Instead it was a much weaker defense.

“Well I guess that’s just a huge coincidence.” Oh, that was lame. I was pretty sure now that she had my check and was going to keep all this money. If I complained she would say it was a booking error, and give me the run around till I gave up, banking on the fact that I didn’t have the gumption to take her to small claims court.

If I doubted that she had my check in hand when she made that slip I knew for sure when she asked to drop by and pick up the rent in CASH that afternoon. I told her point blank that I didn’t trust her and asked how could I be certain that she doesn’t have my check now? This of course made her livid. More than usual because I never complained much when my toilet broke or my roof caved in, or my doors rotted off their hinges. Because I’m so passive she was sure she could soak me for everything she could get, three for one! The fact that such a pushover would question her was infuriating.

“This company has been in business for over twenty years, we don’t just keep checks and cash them.” Oh yes, the company, another of her strong-arm tactics. The very word conjures up images of old white men in suits and lawyer filled bureaucracies, which no one can combat. I had heard the company bit before. Once I was sent to the company “office”, to pick up the keys, and it turned out to be the apartment of a lady so advanced in age shouting was required and everything was said five times. The apartment was, of course in one of her building. I wondered if she made this old lady pay rent above her clerical services, somehow having tricked her into thinking that indentured servitude was still legal. Every once in a while Laura Russell will make reference to the accounting department, the repair department, or some other such nonsense. Odd that I had never met representatives of any of these departments in five years. I wonder if her “supervisor” at this nameless “company” would like to know that she demanded the rent in cash that same day.

The company didn’t scare me all that much because I knew the truth. So now she was screaming, “If you don’t pay today the company will evict you!” It’s a convenient wall to hide behind I guess, so I called her on it a bit, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t play any games.

“What company . . . you?”

“NO! THE COMPANY!” very unprofessional to scream like that. I think even she heard how stupid she was sounding at that moment.

“I can be out tomorrow.” And why stay? I had a place to go and once eviction is brought up, why should I bother to stay. My fault in this was I didn’t realize just how much it took the wind out of her sails.

“Then you’ll be abandoning the property.” She said, her voice trailed off almost confused. I didn’t pick up the hint of dismay in her voice quick enough and made my only foolish mistake in the conversation.

“Is that acceptable to you?” I said. And that was all that was needed. Once I gave her the chance to negotiate terms she was back in the fray. Regardless of the fact that her only two leverages, eviction and deposit didn’t seem to matter a fig to me.

“NO that’s not acceptable.” She ranted and raved about cleanup costs and loss rent time and time to advertise. I was at work and the clock was ticking. I then started to lose heart.

“Alright”, I said, “Come by this afternoon, and I’ll cut you a check. Your just gonna bug me about this till you get it.” Her demeanor changed immediately from harsh bully to joyful victor. I didn’t know quite what I was going to do. I hung up the phone and called a few friends and talked it over. I came to the conclusion that I shouldn’t pay a dime and I should leave immediately even though she couldn’t do anything for thirty days. I almost picked up the phone to call her and tell her right then but my distrust stayed my hand. As long as she thought there was money coming, I knew she wouldn’t have any reason to go poking around my apartment. When I got home I called her and said, “I talked to my counsel . . .” nice touch, “and you can evict if you want I’m leaving tonight.” The response was so unexpected it was eerie.

“Okay.” She said in a sing song voice leading me to think there was something in store for me down the road. But that was it. The battle was over. Once I left she kept the deposit, as is her right after abandonment, and it’s over, the lease is broken. Since I wasn’t getting it back anyway, who cares, and if she really didn’t get my check in the mail, all the better for all the stupid first year collage students she cheated.

That evening I was laying in the back of a van under a mattress like some criminal being smuggled across the boarder thinking it all over. I was crammed under there with all my worldly goods piled on top because there was no room to sit. I mulled over the fact that the move was orchestrated great. I had everything I needed lined up in a few hours, I was packed and out before nine that evening with only one night on the lamb. It was recommended to me to stop payment on the check, and with a little deducing I could have figured out the check number, but I resigned to destiny. If she really hadn’t received my check then it was her divine payback for cheating so many in the past, and I hadn’t really done anything illegal by abandoning the apartment, because she kept my security deposit. If she had gotten the check, she would cash it and according to the law of the land, she would be within her rights to keep both because I had broken the lease. She could have it, lest she repent the weight of that check, and the misery of all her ill-gotten gains will only serve to drag her to the deeper parts of hell. At least I keep telling myself that.

The “missing” check was cashed in less than a week, not much to my surprise.

Phillip G.

Literature