Originally Posted by puzzlebox
The lease agreement I just signed contains a clause specifying that all garbage in the apartment must be placed in some kind of receptacle (as distinct from, say, scattered about the floor, or piled up neatly in a corner). The fact that "PUT YOUR GARBAGE IN A GARBAGE CAN" apparently needs to be written into leases is somewhat disturbing.
My mom and dad used to buy multiple houses to rent, and they have some real horror stories.
I had to deal with one of them (since it was our old house after my dad passed away and I was 20 at the time). My dad had built two sheds in the yard (the one in the back yard was originally a club house for me and my sister when we were little, and was later converted to a shed, and the one behind the house was always a shed, which was used for gardening tools, storing the lawnmower, pool supplies, etc.). The tenant at the time never paid for garbage pick-up (the town didn't have garbage pick-up, so you had to choose a garbage company), and instead put all of the garbage bags (she was living there for over a year, so there was a lot of them) in the shed in the back yard. Once there was no room for any more garbage bags, she apparently stopped using them. When I went over there to clean, there were dirty diapers on the back porch, and some kind of rice mixed with a red liquid mess all between the tracks of the sliding glass doors.
That's not even the worst of it though, my mom and dad have seen worse. This part is really horrible, so I'm warning about it's contents and including a spoiler tag: My dad had a tenant in the 1970's who's dog had apparently had a litter of puppies. The corpses of the puppies were just left there in the cellar (he didn't know if they killed them or just let them starve to death). He had to pick them all up with a shovel and throw them away (and told my mom to stay away from the cellar and only told her about it later), since there was nothing he could do since there were no animal cruelty laws where they lived at the time)
They also once had a house with a cedar closet built in to one of the bedrooms. My mom always told my dad that she loved that closet and would love to move it out of the house and bring it home. Someone else apparently had the same idea, as they moved out of the house late at night (so they could sneak out without having to pay rent) and cut the closet out of the wall, as well as a big hole in the wall in the front of the house where the window used to be so they could get the closet out.
They also once had a tenant who was emptying gunpowder from shotgun shells into an ashtray (I have no idea why) and then apparently forgot about it later and then ashed a lit cigarette into it, causing a fireball which sent him to the hospital.
My parents were unlucky in that they never got a good tenant. I guess not having to actually own a house brings out the worst in people.