The Rittenhouse Review

A Philadelphia Journal of Politics, Finance, Ethics, and Culture

Tuesday, February 03, 2004  

No, Not the Stewart-Bacanovic Trial

These days I take my moments of satisfaction where I can get them, and I had a supreme such moment just an hour ago.

Thanks to the incredible generosity of a devoted reader, Philadelphia’s answer to the like-minded George Soros and its reasoned counterpart to the demented Richard Mellon Scaife, I was able today to hand my landlord’s agent a cashier’s check that not only brings me up to date with all my obligations but takes me to the end of February.

So the entire exercise through which she’s putting me, viz., going to court next week, is now moot.

What will she do?

Will she continue to seek attorneys’ fees of $450.00 for a complaint she knew or should have known was demonstrably false? Will she conjure up new allegations? Or will she just drop the entire matter?

Stay tuned.

[Post-publication addendum (February 4): More landlord fun. It seems Miss Thing is starting to wake up. Yesterday she sent around a maintenance woman to take care of the six repair requests I filed last week, two of which I took care of myself over the weekend, having grown tired of the wait, and two of which were included in my initial damage assessment report filed some 18 months ago. By the way, did you know my apartment building doesn’t have a recycling program or strategy? I did. I knew that, I mean.]

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