I sat back down and laughed to myself. Who did this woman think that she was? She’d probably heard some technical terms from William and now she thought she was an expert. Nope, I didn’t think so. She needed to be put in her place.
“Miss Harris, you don’t know what’s wrong with the system. Leave the technical work to us. I’ll ask William about the job and might even look into it myself. By the way, I have an advanced HVAC certification from a well-known technical school in New York. I’m not just a property manager or pencil pusher just so you know,” I replied.
She appeared surprised by my answer, and then pulled her wallet from her purse and handed me her business card.
“I appreciate you sharing your credentials. You have mine in your hand. Can you read it to me?” she asked sarcastically.
“Stephanie Harris, Technical Forensic Consultants. P.E., Professional Engineer; B.S. Mechanical Engineering B.S., Electrical Engineering M.S.…” I said, before she interrupted me.
“My alma mater is Purdue University, Mr. Goodson. I believe I know how to troubleshoot a simple A/C unit. You are testing my patience, so I am going to give you an ultimatum. If my unit is not repaired and operating normally by the end of this week, then I will do three things. First I will contact the Housing Authority, then HUD, and lastly, I will file a suit against your management company in small claims court. Don’t get it twisted, I live here because it’s close to my job, my church, and I have good neighbors. I pay full market rent for my apartment and I’m not going to allow you to neglect your legal responsibilities. That is all I have to say to you. Good day.” She turned on her heels and walked out. I watched her leave and get into her car.
“William!” I shouted. “Come in here, we need to talk!”
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