After a roller coaster ride of emotions on my part, the big bosses decided and affirmed that we stay in the prison cell that is our flat.
That flat where the ceiling light fell, without any apparent reason whatsoever; that flat whose 2 elevators breaks down every once in a while making me shed some pounds by going up the stairs to the 7th floor; that flat where the real estate people vanishes when problems arise. Yes, we will be staying until March of next year. One month gone, 11 more monthsto go, yey!
The real estate manager told us we could vacate, as we found another flat in a nearby building which we really love, I dream about it every night. We could vacate, and then they return the remaining amount my company has paid for a year’s rent. One big boss blurted out, in my face:
“What makes you think they will ever return the money??”
Yeah, what made me think that they will? But why won’t they? They promised, right? and it’s our deserved money and we vacate the flat after a month of stay so we should get the 11 months remaining rent amount, right? That’s the natural course of the discussion hey, but not necessarily the normal thing in a place called Dubai! Tenant vacates, finds a dream place, asks the previous real estate the remaining money, real estate’s phone can’t be reached, they are nowhere in their offices, the probabilities could go on. Nightmare starts when tenants are at their mercy until tenants give up and go on with their lives.
That is just so shiteously evil.
Two electricians sent by one of the big bosses came to my flat while we were on our way to eat out to forget our misery. They called and we went back. One of them fixed the ceiling light while the other just held the ladder. In a matter of minutes our room is ready for any movie shooting. It was glaringly bright — or maybe we have been used to dining in the semi-dark area after that incident of last week.
The phone rings. The new real estate agent (a very kind and friendly lady who tirelessly listened to my woes, I may add) called after I mailed her to just give the vacant flat to other people as I am not moving in. She informed me that the manager reduced the rent by 10% because he wanted us to have the flat and added he would want to see my daughter’s lovely face every morning! (lip service I know, but it works — I feel a little bit happy)
If only we could! Talk about stress level jumping to monumental proportions. Time to hit the beach again.