Our Landlord Started Coming Daily to Check on the Apartment – When He Made a Scene about Spilt Coffee, We Had Enough

My bestie Jenna and I found the perfect vintage apartment with a seemingly sweet landlord, Mr. Whitaker. But things took a bizarre turn when his daily “inspections” and unsolicited advice crossed the line into creepy territory.

Hello! My name is Andrea, and anyone who has had to deal with a crazy landlord will relate to my story. So, here we go.

A few months ago, my bestie, Jenna, and I found this adorable two-bedroom apartment. It had that vintage charm, as well as brick walls, slightly creaky hardwood floors, and just this amazing cottage-core potential in the middle of the city.

A beautiful apartment living room | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful apartment living room | Source: Midjourney

The landlord, Mr. Whitaker, seemed like a sweet old guy, too, with gray hair and a kind smile. He looked a little like the grandfather from “Up,” except not grumpy.

I thought it was perfect, so we took it right away and signed the lease. For the first few months, it was bliss.

We decorated with quirky thrift store finds and turned every windowsill into a mini jungle. We even posted our journey on Instagram and did a lot of DIY craft stuff for more decorations. But then… things got weird.

Two people making crafts | Source: Pexels

Two people making crafts | Source: Pexels

It started innocently enough, so we didn’t have time to control things before they exploded. Let me explain a little better.

Mr. Whitaker showed up one day with a toolbox in hand. “Just checking the plumbing!” he said with a smile. That was amazing, right?

It was good to have a proactive landlord, one we didn’t have to call every day for a simple fix. But then he was back the next week. And the week after that.

An old man carrying a toolbox | Source: Midjourney

An old man carrying a toolbox | Source: Midjourney

Soon, it was every. Single. Day. And his excuses got more and more ridiculous.

“Gotta inspect that wiring!”

“Those smoke detectors won’t check themselves!”

“Need to measure the air quality!”

I kid you not, he actually said this, and I had to Google if that was a real thing. Apparently, it was, so Jenna and I didn’t know what to think.

A woman with a puzzled expression | Source: Pexels

A woman with a puzzled expression | Source: Pexels

At first, we tried to be cool about it. We were like, “Maybe he’s just thorough? Or bored? Or really, REALLY into property maintenance?”

But nope, this issue got so much worse.

He came by another day without any kind of excuse and just looked around. Suddenly, he started critiquing our cleaning.

“You know, a little vinegar would get that stain out of the counter right out,” he said, pointing at a spot we didn’t even know existed.

Kitchen counters | Source: Unsplash

Kitchen counters | Source: Unsplash

He also made these passive-aggressive comments about our lifestyle. “Back in my day, young ladies dressed much better with pretty sundresses, not sad, tight pants,” he muttered to me.

I was literally in my work clothes.

And sometimes he just… sat there. In our living room. Watching us like we were some kind of reality TV show.

He wasn’t exactly creepy yet, but Jenna and I were uncomfortable. If I wanted an old grumpy man to complain about my life and choices, I would’ve stayed at home with my parents.

A woman worried and uncomfortable | Source: Pexels

A woman worried and uncomfortable | Source: Pexels

We had to start tiptoeing around our own apartment. It felt like he was here even in the rare times he didn’t show up.

Jenna and I even began to wonder if he was letting himself in when we weren’t around. Now, that was a creepy thought. But we had no proof.

One time, he showed up while Jenna was in the shower, and insisted on checking the bathroom sink right then and there.

I had to play bodyguard outside the bathroom door. Still, Jenna finished and came out quickly, and Mr. Whitaker got to work like this was perfectly normal.

A woman drying herself | Source: Pexels

A woman drying herself | Source: Pexels

Mortifying didn’t even begin to cover how we were feeling, and I was about to reach my breaking point.

Days later, he decided our furniture arrangement was “damaging the floor,” and tried to move our couch himself, nearly throwing out his back.

We had to help him sit down and get him some water. Eventually, we started keeping a log of his visits.

An old man on a couch drinking water | Source: Midjourney

An old man on a couch drinking water | Source: Midjourney

It was our own bizarre diary:

Monday: Checked lightbulbs. Commented on dust.

Tuesday: Inspected windows. Criticized our choice of curtains.

Wednesday: ‘Fixed’ a door that wasn’t broken. Left it squeaking.

You get the idea. We were going nuts, but we were also kind of scared to confront him. What if he kicked us out?

A woman confused and worried | Source: Pexels

A woman confused and worried | Source: Pexels

The rental market was brutal, and we loved this place (when he wasn’t in it).

Then came The Day.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. Jenna and I were having our weekend coffee, planning a day of brunch and thrift shopping.

I reached for the sugar and my elbow knocked over my cup. Coffee spilled over our cute little IKEA table and onto the floor.

That was no big deal, but before we could even grab a paper towel, we heard keys jingling.

Keys on a lock | Source: Pexels

Keys on a lock | Source: Pexels

The door flew open, and there was Mr. Whitaker. His face changed so quickly at seeing the mess and got so red, I swear he could’ve stopped traffic.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!” he demanded, and his eyes almost bulged like a cartoon. “YOU’RE RUINING MY PROPERTY!”

I tried to calm him down. “I just spilled my coffee, Mr. Whitaker. We’ll clean it up, no worries!”

“JUST COFFEE?!” he screamed. I’m pretty sure I saw steam coming out of his ears. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DAMAGE THAT CAN CAUSE?! IT’LL SEEP INTO THE FLOORBOARDS!”

An old man yelling | Source: Midjourney

An old man yelling | Source: Midjourney

Jenna and I shared a look that said, “This is it. We’ve reached our limit. No more Ms. Nice Tenant.”

As soon as Mr. Whitaker stormed out (but not before giving us a 20-minute lecture on the “proper way” to drink coffee), we started thinking.

What could we do to stop this?

We spent the rest of the day researching tenant rights, reading our lease agreement with a fine-tooth comb, and coming up with a battle plan.

Reading a document | Source: Pexels

Reading a document | Source: Pexels

And we decided to use a secret weapon: a security system. (Yes, it’s legal in most cases for tenants to install their own security cameras.)

We had someone install it as soon as the system was delivered. It came with motion sensors, cameras, and a loud alarm. It also connected to the internet.

Jenna and I installed the app, and we were ready. It was definitely out of place, considering our decor and general style, but Mr. Whitaker had forced our hand.

A phone with several apps | Source: Pexels

A phone with several apps | Source: Pexels

So, the next day, we activated everything and left for our respective jobs.

Lo and behold, around 11 a.m., my phone started buzzing like crazy. The alarm had been triggered. I checked the cameras, and as expected, it was Mr. Whitaker, who had let himself in.

I called Jenna, and together we decided to call the cops, although we only used the non-emergency line. Then, we each left our jobs early.

A woman at work making a call | Source: Pexels

A woman at work making a call | Source: Pexels

When we got to our apartment, Mr. Whitaker was in a heated argument with two very unimpressed-looking police officers.

“This is MY apartment!” he yelled, his face matching the color of a ripe tomato. “I have every right to be here! I OWN this building!”

The younger cop looked so done, so we approached and introduced ourselves.

“Sir,” he said slowly, “you may own this place, but you have tenants. You can’t just enter whenever you want. That’s not how this works. They have a right to privacy.”

Cops working a case | Source: Pexels

Cops working a case | Source: Pexels

When Mr. Whitaker began sputtering, I pulled out the lease agreement, pointing out the clause about 24-hour notice for non-emergency entry.

The older cop nodded at me as if he already knew that clause would be there. Jenna and I thought this moment was great to point out how Mr. Whitaker often barged in, not taking no for an answer, and made us uncomfortable.

The officer’s frown increased the more we talked.

A cop with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

A cop with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

After a huge sigh, he turned to Mr. Whitaker. “Sir, you’re in violation of the lease terms. These young women have a right to take this matter further.”

I was expecting the old landlord to complain some more, but he deflated like a sad balloon. He probably felt cornered.

He mumbled something about just trying to take care of his property, and I decided to lay it out for him.

“Mr. Whitaker, we appreciate that you care about the building. But there’s caring, and then there’s… whatever this is. We’re responsible tenants. We’ll let you know if anything needs fixing. But you can’t keep barging in like this. It’s not okay.”

A woman with a worried look | Source: Pexels

A woman with a worried look | Source: Pexels

Mr. Whitaker avoided my eyes.

Jenna added her two cents. “Being a good landlord doesn’t mean invading our privacy. We just want to feel comfortable in our own home. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

The old grump nodded, but I could tell it was a begrudging agreement, so the cops gave him an official warning. They explained that if it happened again, he could face legal consequences.

Mr. Whitaker nodded again, but it was more serious, although he still looked like a kid who’d been told Santa wasn’t real.

A sad old man | Source: Midjourney

A sad old man | Source: Midjourney

I felt bad for the sad, old man. He might have been lonely, but I don’t regret it because it’s been blissfully quiet since.

He has stuck to the lease terms like they’re glued to his hands. Not only that, but he schedules visits in advance, keeps them brief, and actually waits for us to let him in.

So here’s what I learned: Know your rights as a tenant. Document everything. Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself. And a good security system is worth its weight in gold!

Two women laughing on a couch | Source: Pexels

Two women laughing on a couch | Source: Pexels

Paul McCartney at 82: You Won’t Believe How He’s Changed Over the Years!

In a career that has lasted nearly seven decades, Paul McCartney—who celebrated his birthday in June—is just as amazing today as he was in 1961 when he joined The Beatles.

The frontman of the famous band has changed a lot over his 82 years but remains an incredible entertainer. He still releases hit songs and keeps coming up with new looks.

Keep reading to see how this 80-year-old continues to stay stylish!

During the 1960s, Beatlemania took over, leaving a lasting impact on culture, fashion, and hairstyles that is still felt today.

Wearing sharp suits, The Beatles changed fashion with their iconic mop-top haircuts, featuring side-swept fringes and a textured look. This hairstyle became a worldwide trend and was closely associated with the band.

Over the years, Paul McCartney has worn many different hairstyles, from shorter cuts to shaggy looks, and has sported a beard and mustache. His hairstyles have always followed the trends of each era.

In 1969, the same year he married Linda (who passed away in 1998), McCartney grew a thick beard along with his shaggy red hair. His beard became so popular that it even has its own Instagram page called “Dedicated to the finest beard in rock n roll history.”

McCartney has tried various hair lengths and styles, keeping up with trends while still maintaining his unique look. However, not all of his hairstyle experiments were successful.

According to the New York Daily News, when Paul McCartney was married to Heather Mills (2002 to 2008), he tried to dye his hair himself using a store-bought kit. He made a mess of it in the bathroom of their home in the Hamptons.

Mills was so worried about how bad it looked that she called a Manhattan salon to fix it. The salon said, “She called very upset. People were making fun of the color. He was dyeing his hair with a box color.”

After years of trying to hide his graying hair, McCartney finally embraced aging gracefully. In 2018, at age 76, he surprised fans by appearing on *The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon* with striking silver hair.

McCartney, who had been dyeing his hair brown for about 30 years, decided to let his natural silver shine through. The Daily Mail noted that just months before, he had still been showing off dark hair, but he had started letting some grey show in January as a step towards a more natural look.

Since releasing his acclaimed album *McCartney III* in 2020, recorded during the Covid lockdown, McCartney’s silver hair has become a part of his distinguished and mature appearance.

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In March 2024, Paul McCartney was spotted enjoying the beach in St. Barts with his wife, Nancy Shevell, whom he married in 2011.

At 81 years old, McCartney was playfully running along the beach in a long-sleeved black shirt and sunset-print shorts, with his hair blowing in the wind. Nancy, 64 and cousin of the late journalist Barbara Walters, wore black shorts and a colorful patterned long-sleeved top while wading in the water.

Recently, McCartney posted on social media to wish his father and former bandmate Ringo Starr a happy birthday. Fans quickly commented, calling the men “fab” and praising McCartney’s looks. One fan wrote, “Stop being so cute old man,” while another referenced The Beatles’ song “She Loves You” with “We love you yeah yeah yeah.” Other fans complimented his style, saying, “You look great Paul. Love your threads,” and “You are so handsome.”

McCartney’s hairstyles have changed over the years, but his early mop-top and sharp suits remain iconic. Throughout his career, he has stayed youthful and embraced his role as a music legend, always keeping his unique style and charm.

What do you think of Paul McCartney at 82? Share your thoughts and spread the word so we can hear what others think!

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