Month: May 2020

For anyone not impeccably precise with word choice (so roughly 95% of the English-speaking world), the words “nice” and “kind” tend to get conflated. However, they are far from the same thing. To (perhaps) hyperbolize the difference, to be nice is to act sweetly due to an oftentimes fearful desire to avoid conflict (read: doormat) whereas to be kind is to actively decide to generally treat people respectfully because it’s the right thing to do.

I have been called “nice” by many, many, many people. It tweaks my nerves. Today, I offer a counter to that.

I’m not nice. I’m kind, and I get really frustrated when I am called nice.

I try so very hard to be kind. I sometimes re-word emails for hours to try to avoid any unintentional tonal readings. I use emoticons and emojis so much that if I don’t include them in texts to certain friends, I get responses asking if I’m alright to totally mundane subject matter.

Example:
“Are you ready for that blizzard we’re expecting tomorrow?”
“Yup. I even got a spiffy new shovel.”
“… Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Why? :-?”
“You didn’t use an emoji. I was worried something was wrong.”

My actions are, more often than not, active decisions in which I not only decide what to do but also how to do it in a way that is as uplifting as possible. This is absolutely obvious in a variety of situations. Some circumstances that might highlight just how not nice I am include:

• Unnecessary cruelty towards others.
• Necessary cruelty to others. (Oh wait – that generally doesn’t exit.)
• Me being really tired and dealing with something seemingly intentionally frustrating.
• Tired, idiotic tropes.
• People pretending to know more about things than they do and using such an act to lord themselves over others.
• Lording oneself over others generally (at least when it’s not hilarious).
• Someone apparently intentionally wasting the time of others. (Just why?)

That last point on the list is the reason I’m agitated (and clearly not nice) at the moment. Recently, I have spent a substantial amount of time researching my next move (which is interstate, by the way): looking into the rental market, contacting landlords, researching neighborhoods in my new locale, putting together notes on various options, following up with landlords, scheduling virtual tours, scheduling in-person viewings (#COVID_Complications), updating property notes, putting together tenantability packets, setting up all of the logistics of traveling to view the properties and hopefully sign a lease agreement…

I understand all of the labor involved in finding a new apartment, particularly when a tenant is as picky as I am, especially given that I’m also quite frugal. It complicates things. But I know this isn’t the fault of the landlords; it’s just part of the apartment-hunting game. Thus, I don’t take it out on landlords; they’re generally doing what they can to lure me in to sign a lease with them, and that includes being helpful and kind and responsive.

(As for the likely-horrible landlords, those get weeded out by the simple fact that they are unhelpful and/or unresponsive. If they can’t give me a straight answer to a simple and direct question about a unit, or if they don’t bother to even acknowledge that I have questions before I send an application with money attached, how could I trust that they would send maintenance if my furnace broke down mid-winter? Done; weeded out.)

Therefore, as a general rule, most decent landlords are helpful and kind and responsive to inquiries about vacancies they’re looking to fill.

Most of them.

And with every initial inquiry I submit, I expect that the landlord will be a decent human being and not waste my time or their time. Sometimes I have questions that the landlord doesn’t have the answer to, and I typically accept estimates and guesses. (I frown upon invitations to do additional research with third parties about any specific property because the landlord is too lazy to do it themselves; knowing the property details is part of a landlord’s job in enticing a new tenant. This point could be a post all its own.) Regardless, I expect substantive responsiveness because it’s part of treating people properly.

You already know where this is going.

Most of the landlords I’ve spoken with have been solid (or they haven’t replied at all, which is also fine because that means they weed themselves out). A couple of them have totally shined. They’re fabulous; I hope I remember to send them Christmas cards even if I end up living elsewhere. They answer questions, offer additional information that’s relevant to the questions I asked, and offer paths forward. (I would say they did it all with smiles, but I didn’t actually see the emotions in the emails, and even if I could, I’m quite certain one of them was being very kind while grinding her teeth to deal with one of my follow-up questions.) Overall, good experiences thus far.

A few of them have half-responded. Partial responses (answering some questions but not others) get the benefit of the doubt on the first reply; if the next email doesn’t rectify the deficiencies in my reply, ya’done, we’done, no mo’. I ain’t got time for lies, deceit, and intentional omissions. No niceness about it; I’m not wasting my kindness on another email with some jerk.

But how does this apply with phone tag?

One of the landlords I was trying to connect with requested phone call contact. So, I sent an email so he would have a copy of my questions and then called. No answer; that’s fine, I left him a voicemail. He’s busy, he’ll call back, and he has my email with my inquiries and my contact information as a reminder that I want to talk with him.

Later that day, I finalized plans to go for in-person viewings. I sent a follow-up email to notify this landlord and request a timeslot to see the unit. So, at this point, I had sent two emails and had left one voicemail.

Three days later, after finalizing viewing times with every other landlord on my list, I get a non-descript reply to my second email. It answers zero of my questions (from either my first email, with substantive inquiries, or my second email, just asking about a viewing), imparts irrelevant information, and asks me to call. Okay…? I already did, and I left a voicemail; I gave you my phone number both via email and via voicemail. Why didn’t you just call me?

I called him again at about the same time his email had come through (it was next-day ’cause I’m a bad millennial who missed the email on the day of) figuring he would likely be available then. Again, no answer. I left another voicemail. Four-and-a-half hours later, I tried again and got the deny call button. (In case you’re wondering how I could tell, it rang once then went immediately to voicemail. That’s a dead give-away.) Granting him the benefit of the doubt, I figured he was with a client and would call me back after.

Well, over two hours later, still no dice, so I sent a follow-up email. My email correspondence is so warm that it often borders on unprofessional. (Sometimes it crosses that line. It’s a very unclear line. But as long as it’s kind-hearted and the other correspondents receive it well, I figure it’s fine.) I sometimes send smileys in work emails. If I can spread a little cheer with necessary correspondence, why wouldn’t I? (#BeJoyful.)

My (probably final) follow-up email was not so cheerful. In fact, it highlights the fact that I am not a nice individual. Specifically, I pointed out all of my attempts to reach him, his lacking attempt to respond to my inquiry, and a brusquely-phrased “can I see it or not?” which ended, effectively, with, This is your last chance because I will not tolerate any more of your shenanigans. (I deleted the language about digital footsies, annoyingness, and unprofessionalism [and, “Do you even want to rent this unit?] because that borders on disrespectful and came clearly enough through the rest of the email.)

I was kind. I was kind six times: my three phone calls, my two emails, and interpreting his one email. Come that seventh time, I was done. Do not waste my time and pretend that, basically, I’m not doing my due diligence. If he cannot respect me as a human being, or for the time I have put in to craft specific and tailored questions, or even for the revenue that dealing with me would generate for you, then I will not tolerate him. One targeted email (which did include an olive branch, should he bother to read it), and the correspondence is over.

(I’ve got way options than that one, anyway, so it didn’t do me any harm.)

So to bring this back around, I am a kind person, but I am certainly not a nice person. My default is quite cheery, hopeful, and respectful. However, I will not be a doormat; I have zero interest in interacting with people who actively disrespect others – including (finally) myself. My time is too precious to waste on people who don’t value it.

And yours is, too.

Recap (because even venting should have a purpose):

• Be kind, but don’t be nice.
• Grant the benefit of the doubt.
• Don’t let others get away with treating you disrespectfully. You always have the option of walking away.

~ ~ ~

A friend recently told me that I should vent instead of bottling emotions because bottling causes them to fester and result in problems. This post is my attempt to see if there is anything to such madness. So, welcome to the dark recesses of my mind…
For the record, I still think this is weird.