1. Heinous flatmate texted a few weeks ago to ask for my bank details so he could start paying me back what he owes. Only about three months too late! (You may or may not recall that he owes me around $900 – a combination of bills he fell behind on at our old place, plus damages and cleaning. Trust me, I knew he was a filthy pig, but he REALLY pulled out all the stops when it came time to move. I can’t even think about it – it’s too foul to recall.)
It’s been maybe a month now. How much have I received from him? Zilch. Nada. Nothing. I was tempted to send him abusive messages on Facebook, but I refrained. Not worth my time.
2. Shortly after we moved and I finished with uni, I decided to pick my guitar back up after three years of neglect. I bought new strings and put them on…and then I got to the high E, and guess what? I literally COULDN’T restring it, because the entire effing bridge saddle was missing. Just gone, like that. Along with the screw. Don’t ask me how he did it, but he did. (And yes, I know it was him, because he played it. Until he broke a string and never replaced it, and now I know why!)
3. After tossing around the C word, indulging in a bout of angry crying, and some intense surfing of the net – in which I convinced myself I’d have to order parts from overseas for a small fortune – I trotted off to Musicworks, where I originally bought my amp and guitar. A dude with massive tunnels in his ears took my details and told me they would get the part shipped in. Two weeks passed, and nothing. I called them. Another guy said they’d call back. They didn’t. I physically went in to see them.
“They’re on their way. They’ll be here soon. We’ve got your details here so we’ll give you a call.”
All up, it’s been well over a month, so soon better mean WITHIN THE WEEK! I may not be a serious muso, and I may not even be able to play standing up, but I’m still a paying customer, dammit.