Sometimes you get to know more of your tenants than you want. There was Mr. B, elderly but tall and burly, who’d fallen and couldn’t get up. His sparrow of a wife frantically called the rental office. “Please help me get my husband up”. She neglected to mention that he was on his hands and knees, half in and half out of the bathtub, stark naked & trying to get in. Couldn’t get in, couldn’t get out, couldn’t get up.
I didn’t get the whole picture over the phone, so I sent my assistant, S, to help the man up. S, who only weighed 100 pounds herself, now found herself jostling for position in the tiny bathroom, trying, with Mrs. B, to get the Mister up while not touching any personal parts. Which was quite a trick, since a really big butt was filling up the doorway. And try as they might, he wouldn’t budge. S finally called the police for help, which is probably what the wife should’ve done to start with, and we should’ve done once we realized the (ahem) enormity of the situation.
Can you imagine how S felt when the cops came in and got the picture? Kind of like I felt when the police came and saw the deceased Master B. That must’ve been another fun day around the police department water cooler.