I got home, and because they were painting right in front of my door, and I was on the phone, I sat in my car and waited for them to finish.
Then one of the painters knocked over my tomato plant with his ladder.
"It was an accident! He'll pick it up! Oh I bet he feels really bad!"
"Why is he not picking it up? Did he just LOOK at it and walk away? REALLY?"
"Seriously? There's three grown men walking around GIANT knocked over plant, and NO ONE is going to pick it up?!"
I couldn't take it anymore, and went to rescue my baby I've raised from 6". I literally screamed when I saw that the entire top half was broken, hanging on by a few green strings! I quickly scooped my other plants up and put them inside my house. I know it might seem crazy to some of you, but I had tears in my eyes.
I went back outside and I said, VERY CALMLY:
"You know, you guys, I appreciate what you're doing, and I know you have to move things, but when you're dealing with other people's property-"
"WE TOLD YOUR HUSBAND WE WERE MOVING THEM!
THE WIND BLEW IT OVER!
IT'S NOT OUR FAULT!"
... whoa. Thanks for letting me finish my sentence you jack-ass. Thanks for jumping down my throat, even thought I'm obviously the victim here. And you couldn't say SORRY your plant is broken? SORRY you just lost SEVEN tomatoes because we don't know how to move a ladder?
I didn't want to get in a brawl with three large men, so instead, I drove straight to my landlord's office and made a complaint. Because this is not the first time the maintenance guys have done crap! Last time, they pulled all the weeds in front of my apartment and LEFT THEM in a pile that quickly became bug infested. If it weren't for my precious plants, our APARTMENT would have become bug infested, but my foliage took the brunt of the insects revenge. When I VERY CALMLY asked the kid pulling the weeds next time to just throw the pile of weeds away, he didn't even give me a reaction. Apparently working maintenance for an apartment complex means taking ZERO responsibility for the mess you leave behind for the tenants.
Of course, the office I went to couldn't do anything. They can't replace my plant that I've grown for months and months. All they can do is tell the maintenance supervisor the story.
I almost demanded an apology, but insincere apologies are worse than no apologies.
I cried in the car. Seriously, cried.
And why wouldn't I have? Remember this post?
I'm in mourning. I think I'll wear black tomorrow.