Cease and desist (and how to respond when a lawyer starts throwing out redundant statements)

This may be the best response to a legal threat that I've ever read. And I'm jealous that it never occurred to me to close my letters with "Word to yo mamma."

Score one for the good guys

The following account is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent...and for comedic purposes. As you may or may not know, we recently moved out of the apartment we called home for the last two years. The circumstances that precipitated the move involved a shockingly unreasonable rent hike and overall ridiculousness on the part of the apartment complex management. But we made the best of a less than ideal situation and we found a bigger, better place that is more suited to our current needs. More than anything, I was happy to be out of that particular complex, which we shall refer to as "The Worst Apartment Complex Ever." And how does one gain the distinction of being "The Worst Apartment Complex Ever?" By being like this and doing stuff like this:

Final account statement - Revised
Ledger Account at move-out
Portal ACH payment -- (47.00)
Balance at move-out (47.00)
* See the itemized charges for a complete listing of the work.

Deposit Activities
OSP ACH Deposit (350.00)
Total Deposits on hand (350.00)

Additional charges/credits/payments after move-out
Carpet Cleaning 65.00
Charges For Cleaning Needed 135.00
Drip Pan Replacement 16.00
Keys, (apt, mail, gym, pool) 55.00
Touch up paintq 135.00
Total additional charges / credits / payments 406.00

Final Account balance
Balance at move-out (47.00)
Total Deposits (350.00)
Refunded Amount
Total additional charges / credits / payments 406.00
Total account balance due 9.00
* See the itemized charges for a complete listing of the work.

Edited Final Account balance
Balance at move-out
Total Deposits
Original Refunded Amount
Total additional charges / credits / payments

Variance due or to be refunded
Original - balance due 9.00
Edited - balance due

FAS Prepared
Date 12/29/2011
User B., Amber


Lease information - Unit 15298C
Move-in 08/25/2009
Notice given 10/04/2011
Lease expires 11/17/2011
Move-out 11/23/2011
Move-out reason Lifestyle change for another reason
Lease information - Unit 15298C
Floor plan group
Cancel/Deny date
Lease expires 11/17/2011



Please remit payment within fifteen (15) days via worstapartmentcomplexever.com or mail to: Worst Apartment Complex Ever 15282 SW Worst Ever Blvd Beaverton, OR 97007 If the balance is not paid within 15 days your account will be sent to our collection agency, National Credit Systems, and you may contact them at 1-800-367-1050. They will proceed with collection action which may include credit bureau reporting and possible legal action. Interest will accrue on all outstanding balances at the maximum lawful rate.

Manager


To sum up so far: We paid a $350.00 security deposit when we moved in. When we moved out, our online account had $47.00 in rent that we had overpaid by mistake. According to this invoice, the management was not only keeping the rent we had overpaid, as well as our entire deposit, but they were charging us an additional 9 bucks. Now, if they had merely kept a portion of our deposit, I may not have felt the need to go on a rampage, but they didn't do that. Oh no. They kept all our deposit along with money that was not rightfully theirs, and they still wanted more. My sense of indignant outrage was rightfully kindled at this injustice. We tried a diplomatic approach at first, with Scott going in to speak with the property manager and request an explanation for the outlandish charges. When the property manager blew him off, it was time for drastic measures.

Enter: Pissed off former tenant who actually happens to know when a landlord is acting illegally.


Dear Ms. B.,

I am in receipt of the following final account statement from The Worst Apartment Complex Ever, which was sent via email to myself and my husband, SP, on December 29, 2011. The account statement detailed charges that were assessed against the security deposit we paid at the beginning of our residency in unit 15298 C at The Worst Apartment Complex Ever in August 2009. As you will note, our lease term ended on November 17, 2011, which is the date on which we vacated the unit and returned the keys to an The Worst Apartment Complex Ever agent, thus delivering the unit back to the landlord. The account statement erroneously lists our move out date as November 23, 2011. The final account statement was sent to us via email only on December 29, 2011, which is 41 calendar days from the day after we terminated our tenancy and delivered the unit to the landlord. Pursuant to Oregon law, a landlord is statutorily obligated to return a tenant’s security deposit within 31 days after the termination of the tenancy and the delivery of the rental unit to the landlord. ORS 90.300(11).

The Worst Apartment Complex Ever retained the entire balance of our $350.00 security deposit, based on the accounting statement below. Oregon law states that if a landlord retains any portion of a security deposit, he or she is required to notify the tenant in a written accounting, which must be delivered by personal delivery or first class mail to the tenant, within 31 days after the termination of the tenancy. The Worst Apartment Complex Ever was provided with our current mailing address, as indicated in the accounting statement. As noted above, the accounting statement was sent to us via email only, and was not received until 41 days after the termination of our tenancy. The Worst Apartment Complex Ever has violated the relevant statutes by failing to deliver the accounting statement within the requisite time frame and by the statutorily required manner of delivery.

In addition to its failure to comply with relevant landlord/tenant laws regarding notice and delivery of the final accounting statement, The Worst Apartment Complex Ever has unlawfully withheld a portion of our security deposit in violation of ORS 90.300 (5)(B). The statute states that a landlord can withhold a portion of the security deposit to repair damages to the premises caused by the tenant, not including ordinary wear and tear. We resided at The Worst Apartment Complex Ever for 2 years and 3 months. We had no pets in our apartment and no children. We cleaned the apartment thoroughly prior to vacating the premises. The premises was returned to the landlord in the same condition that existed at the time we took possession of the unit, with the exception of ordinary wear and tear. The Worst Apartment Complex Ever deducted $270.00 from our deposit for “touch up painting and cleaning charges.” Those charges were incurred to correct ordinary wear and tear, and were wrongfully withheld. Furthermore, Oregon law only permits costs assessed for repairs to be billed at a “reasonable hourly rate.” The accounting statement we received does not provide adequate detail as to the hourly rate assessed for the cleaning and painting performed. We do not dispute the amount that was withheld for carpet cleaning, a term noted in our original lease contract. Please provide receipts which detail the hourly rate assessed for the painting and cleaning that was performed.

In addition to the amount wrongfully withheld for repair of ordinary wear and tear, The Worst Apartment Complex Ever wrongfully withheld $55.00 from the deposit for “Keys (apartment, mail, gym, pool).” On November 17, 2011 at approximately 8:00 am, S.P. returned all of the aforementioned keys to an agent of The Worst Apartment Complex Ever. The leasing office was not open at the time he returned them, so he delivered possession of the keys to a Worst Apartment Complex Ever maintenance worker, who indicated he would deliver them to the leasing office.

The Worst Apartment Complex Ever has wrongfully withheld $325.00 from the $350.00 security deposit it received, in violation of ORS 90.300. Under the statute, the landlord has one year to settle the matter and repay the balance owed. If proper settlement is not reached, the tenant may file suit for up to twice the amount of money unlawfully retained. See Ellsworth v. Gladden, 36 Or.App.385 (1978) and ORS 90.300(15). Please remit payment immediately in the amount of $325.00 to SP and RWP. If payment is not received, we will file an action in state court to recover damages pursuant to ORS 90.300(15).

Thank you for your attention to this matter. Please contact me if you have any questions.



Whoa. To which The Worst Apartment Complex Ever responded with:

After reviewing your email, your final account statement has been revised. Your full deposit was submitted for payment to our corporate office today, the check will be cut within 2 business days.

Thank you,

Carolyn C.
Property Manager
Worst Apartment Complex Ever


And that is how the good guys win one.

Impulse buy FAIL

You may or may not have noticed that it has been eight months since my last post. My official stance is that nothing interesting has happened in that time frame, but the truth is that I'm just really, really lazy... and really quite busy. If you care, I'm sorry. But today, something blogworthy actually happened and I even had some spare time to sit around and commit it to print. Scott and I have recently been saving our pennies for a more respectable-sized television. After living for two years in an apartment that came with a 45 inch flatscreen, we recently moved and found it a little disappointing to go back to the modest 32 inch television we purchased as newlyweds. Today, in a perfect storm of awesomeness, we had a bit of a windfall at my job and we stumbled across an ad for a 50 inch plasma on sale for pretty much the exact amount of my recently-refunded bar dues for the last year. (Side note: Being a lawyer is crazy expensive) Thinking only of our amazingly good luck, we headed out on a mission: Assume ownership of said 50 inch plasma television. That was the easy part...well, except for the minor detail of our credit card being flagged for fraud because we've been using it to make lots of unusual purchases lately. Um, Christmas shopping anyone? When we finally made it out of the store with our treasure, we discovered that there are a great many things that do not fit in a Honda Civic, among them, a 50 inch plasma television. Despite our best efforts to adjust seat backs, shift around the television and cajole the car into being just a bit more accommodating, we were utterly unable to fit our impulse buy in our car. No fewer than 10 complete strangers commented on our predicament. My personal favorite was the guy who so helpfully chimed in with "That's not going to fit!" Do you think? Luckily, we are perfectly capable of finding humor in our own logistical ineptitude. But honestly, if you can't laugh at that, what can you laugh at? When we came to the realization that the television was not fitting in the car, no way, no how, we reevaluated our options. Fortunately for us, we have some really amazing friends who are exceptionally generous and kind and considerate...and happen to own an SUV. Special shout out to Kyle and especially Autumn for coming to our rescue. When we got home, we realized that our impulse buy would require some serious rearranging of our only recently assembled living room, but now that it's all set up and the big game is blazing in all its action (Seriously Sooners, this is just unacceptable), I think we can officially say that this is an impulse buy WIN!

It still smarts like it was four minutes ago

When I interviewed for my current job, the hiring partner asked me if I would be willing to take the Washington bar exam and emphasized to me that if I got the job, I would need to. This is because the majority of the firm's practice centers around litigation in the state of Washington. I think when we had this conversation six months ago, I must have said something idiotic, like "Sure, I'd love to take another bar exam!" After I got the job, the subject didn't come up again because new associates are generally expected to prove their worth with the firm for at least a year before the partners feel justified in footing the bill for an associate to take the Washington bar exam. For good reason, too. Evidently, with the lost productivity, wages, bar prep and other such fabulousness, the price tag for an associate to get licensed in Washington hovers around $40,000. Or so I was told. Today. When I was informed that a July 2011 bar exam might be in my future. Part of me is thinking it's pretty darn awesome that the partners are even considering having me take the bar at this point. It means they think I'm a decent enough lawyer to actually send out into the world; to handle the real courtroom aspects of litigation, rather than just the paperwork. And then there's the rest of me, the part that actually heard the words "bar exam." I've heard it said that time dulls even the most painful memories, but I found out first hand today that two years is not enough time to blunt the effect of that particular brand of trauma. I'm pretty sure there is not enough time in all of eternity to make me comfortable with the idea of sitting for another bar exam. Studying night and day for another bar exam. Turning into a horror show caricature of myself for another bar exam. As this conversation ensued in my office between me and one of the partners, he took a step back (presumably after seeing the unadulterated look of panic that surely swept over my face) and inadvertently bumped against the framed certificate that proclaims me a member of the Oregon State Bar. It nearly fell off the wall. I'm pretty sure that's a bad omen.

By any other name

I've been getting positive attention at work lately, which means more and more assignments are being deposited at my desk. I cannot lie; I love it. Of particular awesomeness is the fact that I'm getting to do a great deal of legal research and writing. I know, a lawyer, writing legal stuff. Mind blowing. But there is one tiny detail about this arrangement that bothers me. Or more accurately stated, there is one tiny detail about this arrangement that bothers my inner narcissist. I never get to put my name on my work. All the pleadings, advice letters, legislative analyses and case law synopses that come from my desk are signed by a partner. At some level, I suppose this makes sense. Big deal corporate clients really like to see a name they know and trust affixed to the bottom of a letter containing advice on how to manage their legal affairs. Preferably a name that is also on the wall in the lobby of our office, in big shiny letters. As a student, to me the best part about writing something amazing was putting my name on it and declaring to the world that the novel ideas on that paper had their genesis in my brain. But as a second year associate, I guess the ideas spilling from my brain are still considered a work in progress. I do find it exciting that established attorneys who have been successfully practicing law for longer than I have been alive trust me to come up with legal solutions that will ultimately go out to our clients and shape the way they do business. But this is one of those instances in which the practice of law is annoyingly idiosyncratic. I'm pretty sure in any other context, putting your name on something you did not write is more commonly referred to as plagiarism.

Broadcasting idiocy

In the line of duty, it is sometimes incumbent upon me to read letters from opposing counsel in which grandiose posturing is performed and threats are leveled. As a general rule, lawyers are pretty good with words. I can attest to the fact that this lawyer chooses every word with care because I've had it drilled into me that the subtlest of shifts in semantics can completely alter the meaning of what I'm trying to convey. And then there are lawyers like the guy whose words came across my desk recently and gave me the uncontrollable urge to cram a dangling participle down his throat. The letter contained a threat of penalties against my client...I think. The spelling and grammar were so atrocious that I could only guess at what he was trying to say. And when I thought I finally had it figured out, my annoyance was compounded by the fact that I found myself unable to draft a response that was not dripping with sarcasm. I had to assume that since the guy ostensibly made it through law school and passed the bar, he's probably no dummy. However, if you have something to say and you come to the conclusion that it is important enough to commit to writing, don't you think it might be a good idea to dust off those grade school grammar lessons and fire up your spell checker so you can avoid looking like a complete idiot to the person reading your words? And while I'm being a curmudgeon, can we expand that to all forms of written communication, not just legal blustering? Please and thank you.

And for my next trick, I will turn my face red

Today was such a long day at work. I spent the last hour working on a problem related to a third party lien and for the life of me, I could not make my numbers match up with the numbers of the settlement. The partner who had given me the assignment was on the phone, so I had to wait to ask him how he came up with the numbers he had given me. I waited...and waited...and waited. And still, the little red light on my phone indicated he was still chatting it up with some judge or client or other random person of more significance than myself. I finally decided to set aside that particular project for the moment and I started pulling documents from another file. From the corner of my eye, I saw the partner approaching my office. Without bothering to look up, I say in my usual, slightly too loud voice, "Are you finally finally finally off the phone? I've been waiting forever to talk to you about this lien. I can't figure out how you got the numbers you did and I need you to show me how you came up with these figures..." When I finally looked up, I saw that he was clutching the mouthpiece of his telephone headset and motioning for me to be quiet...because he was still very much on the phone. Ooooooh, I'm such a winner! In a move right out of the cheesiest cartoon, I stopped mid-sentence and clapped my hand over my mouth as my eyes popped out of my head like tennis balls. He had come to my office to get a file I was working on, and the person on the other end of the phone had been privy to my awesomeness. And let's face it, I am awesome. The attorney whose office is next door to mine saw the entire scene and was failing miserably at containing his laughter. Luckily, my boss saw the humor in the situation and we all had a good laugh about it after he finally finally finally did get off the phone.