This post was submitted by Allison

After processing various late rent checks one morning, wondering why DC housing is so expensive, Dorothy, from 915, called my office.

“Hello – Logan Circle Apartments – this is Allison – How can I help you?”

“Hi Allison. It’s Dorothy from apartment 915. Something very disturbing has happened. I’d like for you to come upstairs immediately.”

“Alright, before I go up, let me know what’s wrong just incase I need to call maintenance.”

“OK. Well, there seems to be a large dead animal underneath my carpet in the middle of my living room.”

While many people would feel alarmed by this call, my eyes remained glazed from processing the late rent checks with notes attached that said “Sorry Allison, but you should have told me rent was due,” or “Hi Allison, can you wave the late fee, I have bad credit as it is,” or “Allison, my bank ruined my bank accounts. You’ll have to call Citibank for the rest of my rent.” How these tenants expected me to take these requests seriously when their checks feature Hello Kitty in the background, I’ll never know.

I got up from my desk and walked up nine floors to Dorothy’s apartment. I’d taken to walking instead of riding the elevator because of the excessive amounts of booze and salt and vinegar chips I’d consumed since taking the job. On my way up the stairs, I tried to give Dorothy the benefit of the doubt: Maybe a large animal did crawl up nine floors to Dororthy’s apartment. Maybe the animal smelled Dorothy’s homemade macaroni and cheese, entered her home without her knowledge, crawled seamlessly underneath her carpet, only to die in the living room on its road to perdition. If this is the case, then why has no one else seen this giant rat, raccoon/unicorn?

I knocked on Dorothy’s door, and she let me in. As she was explaining her concern for the health and maintenance of her home, I tried to look for any food or trash laying around. Everything was cleaned. Dorothy then pointed to the spot in her living room where the dead monster ended its journey. The carpet was slightly raised. I stepped on what I like to call a “carpet bubble.” The dead monster Dorothy feared was actually….the carpet pad.

“Hm, well Dorothy. The only thing underneath your carpet is the carpet pad.” I said.

“What? It isn’t an animal? It feels very unusual. Very squishy. Like an animal.”

“Right. Well, sometimes, as carpet gets stepped on, it’s possible for the carpet to separate a bit from the padding, resulting in an uneven, maybe squishy, surface.” To this day, I am annoyed that Dorothy prompted me to use the word “squishy” while on the clock.

“Hm. I’m just very nervous sleeping with this here, at night,” she added.

“Dorothy, I’m 99.9% positive there is not a dead animal under your carpet.” Luckily, this statement ended our back and forth.

On my way back to the office, I saw Amadeo in the lobby.

“What the problem?” Amadeo asked

“ (sigh) Esta señora piensa que hay un monstruo muerto bajo su carpet.” which means, “There is a lady who thinks there is a dead monster under her carpet.”

Amadeo replied, “ROAR.”

When I got back to the office, I wrote Dorothy a note:

“Hi Dorothy:

Thank you for voicing your concerns today. I have scheduled an appointment for maintenance to smooth out your carpet. Please let me know if you see anything else unusual in your living space.”

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