Yes Means No, Part 3

Adios, “No!” Management.

Unlike you folks, I keep my word. I said I would get out of your hair and I’m almost there. In the next month or so I’ll be living somewhere else. In the future, at every possible opportunity I will remind folks that Yes Communities is a scumbag operation run by psychopaths. At least once I spoke directly to one of your big boys in Colorado and he flat out lied to me, so talking is out. We will communicate only in writing.

I’m not an activist so all you have to worry about is that I am a writer who imagines he has some talent.

You change managers here at Timberland Mobile Home Park every few months. I used to wonder why until I did the research. Several of your former employees let us in the secret: You have a hidden policy that, unless someone kisses all the right asses (or performs even more degrading acts), at the moment they become eligible for a promotion, raise or performance bonus, you fire them. Because we are in a depressed job market, you can always find another idiot to take their place. Thus, you insure high profits and renters suffer major neglect.

That is, unless they suffer major abuse. The latest Bitch Goddess that you sent here to Timberland waltzed in and started handing out threatening notices about the piddliest little imaginary violations like candy, and it’s not even Halloween yet. She gave these to her sniveling secretary who willingly performed her boss’s dirty work and can’t seem to understand why folks got angry. Yet almost none of us have met the manager, because she won’t come out of her palatial throne room. We have to kiss the floor at her feet to seek a divine audience, and are lucky she doesn’t kick us in the nose.

Okay, so maybe I exaggerate, but I’ll probably never know because she is such a damned coward. She didn’t bother to talk to anyone on her own initiative. It was merely the last straw when she insisted I cannot any longer give away free firewood to folks who need it. For the last few years I’ve always kept a good quantity out front where folks could get it without bothering anyone. She never bothered to find out why it was there, but insisted I not keep any on my lot.

As of this writing, I believe I’ve sold this mobile home. I managed to fix all the shit you hid from me when I bought it. I could take you to court over your failure to cut down that rotting cottonwood in my front yard, and you would have to pay my lawyer. But I’m willing to bet you will let it break and fall on someone’s house first. Well I’m standing ready to testify in court against you because there is no excuses for your negligence, because I warned you in Colorado and your local management almost a month ago.

Oh, and one more thing: When I leave I cannot promise the new owner will mow that area your guys haven’t bothered to cut at the foot of the water tower behind my shed in some three years now. Might want to look into that.

So yeah, I’m leaving soon just so you’ll see that there is such a thing as keeping promises in this world.

Signed: The grouchy old sonuvabitch in Trailer 55, Timberland Mobile Home Park, Choctaw, OK