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-------------------------------------------------------------- Permission granted by author for anyone to distribute this writing free of charge (including translation into any language)...under condition that no profit is made therefrom, and that it remain intact and complete, including title and credit to the original author. Ezekiel J. Krahlin http://www.gay-bible.org -------------------------------------------------------------- DORK UPCHUCK, MY QUEER BUILDING MANAGER (A True Tale From The Castro. Eat your heart out, Armistead!) © 1997 by Ezekiel J. Krahlin The following letter I sent to my "new" building manager, Dork Upchuck, who took over the premises about two years ago. (That's not his real name, but it should be.) I had posted several small signs, announcing a community meeting for concerned neighbors regarding local installation of microwave antennae. Mr. Upchuck saw this as an excuse to bully me, claiming the glue I used (to stick on my notices) is harmful, and that he'll evict me if I don't remove my four signs immediately. (He pounded on my door, which frightened the bejeebers out of me...and when I opened it, he yelled threats, then stormed off.) In fact, the glue is easily removed with a damp sponge, and better than tape...and my half-page size notes were posted in the usual places all residents tack announcements. Since Dork's insane outburst, I no longer trust him or assistants with my rent check...instead I now mail my rent directly to the property owner. I waited three months for an apology, but it never came...hence, this letter of outrage. Enjoy! ......................... July 21, 1996 To Dork Upchuck: Dork, I hope by now you realize it is not wise to take out your neuroses on me, with threats such as evicting me. There was never any real apology from you, other than a quick brush off at the elevator as you rapidly walked away from me. I advise you to never again pull such a stunt...including loudly banging on my door. If anything like this ever happens again, you'll see just how fast you'll be shunted back to Los Angeles...and wind up working as a janitor for minimum wage in East L.A. I gave you ample time to figure things out and conclude that you should give a decent apology to me. You have not, even though Terence interceded on my behalf, and pointed out the error of your way. At this point, the only real apology I'd accept from you, is two months' free rent (or monetary equivalent). After all, since in your world, money talks...then that would seem to be the only equitable solution, and clearing of your karma. As far as your slur about my not respecting property...good heavens man, you have it all bass ackwards! It is the property owner who is guilty of neglect and abuse upon this building and its inhabitants. If San Francisco really enforced its building and health codes, this property would be shut down immediately, and the owner would be hustled off to the Gulag posthaste. (This may even come to pass!) I also want you to know that I don't appreciate your assistant Floyd's rude behavior he showed me, when I came to pay my rent. As you know, I require a receipt when I hand over the money order. This is because--should the money order get lost in the shuffle (blow out the window or otherwise)--I will be the one to get shafted, not you. While money orders are traceable, their presence cannot be known should they get lost prior to depositing them. I attempted to pay my rent on the third of July...but since no one was in the office (though it was open), I did not leave my payment. I noticed payments from other renters sitting on the desk; a vulnerable situation, as opposed to placing them in a locked file cabinet or safe. Numerous times from the third to the fifth, I tried to pay my rent. But either no one was in the office, or the office was closed. I even left a message on the answering machine to the effect that I am trying to pay my rent; and when will someone be there to sign a receipt? No one ever called back. On Friday, the fifth, someone was there, but he said he's not authorized to give me a receipt. So I walked out, then later bumped into Floyd at Walgreen's. I told him my situation, and he said not to worry...just bring it in Monday. Well, Monday was a different story, as Floyd lectured and belittled me about getting my rent here on time! He made crude statements such as: "Tenants are lucky to even get a receipt within a week." (I should have responded, "Those damn peons!", but I wasn't quick enough.) I explained to him that my rent was on time, and waiting for him in my room...and that he has a duty to make rent payment reasonably easy for all residents. He knows where I live, and could easily have come to my door, in the event no one was in the office whenever I tried to pay rent. In a nutshell: I hold great disfavor to a person who is all sweet and smiley one day, then turns on you the next. I choose to keep such inconsistent, and unloyal, people out of my life. Unfortunately, I am subject to dealing with Floyd because he holds the rent log. Please set him "straight" about what professional behavior should be; and how to apply it to all clients. I have lived here since January 1, 1983; and have always paid my rent. In addition, I have fought the worst of the drug addicts and other violent creeps, who occupied this building for about eight years. I even went to court on behalf of this building--in the presence of the property owners--in order to evict a resident from hell. I have also been attacked with a large butcher's knife by a former resident...whom I attempted to keep in jail, but could not. I have a long history of positive input into this residence...and you, new kid on the block, should not get so uppity when it comes to my rights as a better human being than you could ever hope to be. Also--while you may not be aware of this--I have contributed greatly to our lesbian/gay community; even on a global level. Among my good achievements, is my support of the Marines in Somalia, in loving memory of Randolph Louis Taylor...a military hero, a gay rights hero, and my lover. Though I am not sucking up to the media in every direction, I am well known in this city; and have been for over 15 years. I am not only a major leader in the civil rights movement for gay folk...but I am one of San Francisco's best kept secrets. Newcomers like you should step lightly when settling in. To tune you in to some of my latest activities, I enclose three of my latest "poems"...two of which were originally written as letters to the editor...and actually mailed to the places indicated therein. (You see, as an artist, I consider reality itself to be the ultimate canvas...so I regard my letters to newspapers as brush strokes.) As a result, some unusual activity may ensue at this address...such as (possibly) a queer militia takeover, interrogation or arrest by the FBI, mass media focus on my activities, and the return of my fine lover...or nothing much at all. It depends how my brush strokes blend in with the scenery...and how the audience chooses to respond. Randolph...whom I just discovered (quite happily so) did not die, but was detained from getting in touch with me over an issue of betrayal by certain nihilistic elements of the queer community. Sincerely, Ezekiel J. Krahlin enclosures: three poems name change declaration ejk:rlt P.S.: Please notice I never use the medieval terms "landlord" and "tenant", as they smack of serfdom and slavery. I always use descriptors like "property owner" and "resident" (or "renter")...which are much more appropriate in this 20th century, in this democracy. To do otherwise, is to regard other people as less worthy to live than oneself.
The building in question...
click on image for a treat. ---finis ADDENDUM: There is justice in this world (sometimes)! One year and six months after composing my complaint, the following article appeared in the local gay press, regarding Dork Upchuck's harassment towards another individual. Click on the link below, read on, and smile: Upchuck's Upbraiding...204kb scanned article.