So, a story I really don't have time to tell--but feel like it: I have a rare vintage motorcycle. Every year it gets harder and harder to find parts for. Back around 2016 it was having charging problems. The battery would run down faster than it would recharge. Various mechanics suggested various fixes for it. One was to replace the stator. Problem is, that they don't make that stator anymore. I found an aftermarket one that was supposed to work, but was told that it didn't--wiring wasn't right. Ultimately I found a shop that looked promising. Good online reviews, nice website, seemed to align with my needs. Brought the bike in--oh, I forgot, it wasn't running either because I hadn't yet learned the trick of shutting off the fuel when parking and letting it run until it dies. That way there's no gasoline in the carb to gum it up and clog it. So I needed to get it running again, I wanted the seat reupholstered, I wanted new tires, and I hoped they'd be able to solve the charging issue. (Disclosure: I'd also hit a small deer at fairly low speed that summer and the charging issues started some time after that.)
They did get the bike running. And the seat reupholstered. But the charging gremlins were more problematic. Such is life. But the worrisome thing was that pretty much every time I'd call them, they'd say "by the way, these tires look pretty bad. You want us to change them?" And I'd say "...Yes." And they'd ask again the next time I called. Eventually we gave up on the charging and I had them install a battery tender on the battery so I could plug it in between rides. I came to pick the bike up at the late side of when they said it would be ready. Took the train, lugging my helmet and jacket. It wasn't ready. They'd gotten the wrong sized front tire. Getting the right tire took another 2 hours--not enough time to go back home but too much time to kill in a warehouse district. Finally got the bike. On the way home, the neutral indicator light started acting up. When I got home, I found they'd managed to route the wire for it right next to the chain and the chain had ripped it loose. I also found that they'd still managed to put the wrong sized tire on the front wheel and the fender and the tire were destroying each other.
Brought it back and they agreed to repair the fender because, again, you can't just buy a new fender anymore, and put the right tire on. That took forever and I got excuses like "we're having trouble with the paint match." When I'd gotten the bike fixed after the deer accident, the body shop I used for my Mustang that I decided to trust with the bike looked at a sticker under the seat and went "Oh, this should be easy. It's a standard paint code for a Honda Accord." When I explained this I was told "yes, but we use *Sherwin Williams* paint. So? Bring the Honda paint code to the Sherwin Williams people and I bet they can match it. Finally, after constant badgering, I was told the bike would be ready for a thing I had the upcoming Saturday. Checked on Friday and was told they had, again, ordered the wrong-sized tire.
I should explain at this point: They not only had the bike, they had the owner's manual, the shop manual, and links from me via e-mail showing what sized tire they needed. At this point I tracked down the right sized tire at another motorcycle shop and planned to offer to bring it to them to install. Except when I got there, the guy had his arm in a sling. He'd been so offended by my frustration that he'd managed to crash his bike in a race the day before and broken his collarbone. So even with the right sized tire, he couldn't change the tire. He suggested I just take the bike to my thing without the front fender.
As it happens, the oil fill cap was also either missing or loose enough to vibrate off, and I wound up spending the rest of the day having oil pour out of the crankcase directly in front of the rear tire every time I needed to use the brakes. It was a lot of fun. At this point I'm just trying to extract myself from this mess so I just kept my mouth shut about that.
A couple other things I need to circle back to: They'd said the forks were a little out of line and offered to adjust them at some point. Since an auto body place had done the work, I had given them the go-ahead. And one of the reasons I wanted the tires changed is because I'd gotten a flat in Hawaii and my shop didn't have the right sized rear tube so they put in a larger size and that tube never held air right. So I'd always have to pump up the rear tire before riding. Well, of course these guys hadn't noticed this so they just used the shitty tube and the rear tire still had a slow leak. So when I finally got the bike back, I forgot to check the rear tire. First time I tried to make a turn, the bike dumped because there was no air in the back tire. And the forks got twisted because they hadn't tightened them properly. I was able to limp it home after finding a station and putting some air in the back tire and eventually found a mechanic who wasn't an idiot. He still couldn't lick the charging problem, but the bike was rideable again. (As I type all this, I do have to wonder if the guy was merely inept or by the end was actively trying to kill me.)
I mention this because naturally, at this point I got on Yelp! and gave the shop a terrible review. And by this point there were other terrible reviews too. Well after each bad review, the owner would get on, be verbally abusive, and accuse the reviewer of being a liar, while spinning his own version of events.
My renter reminds me a bit of this guy. No guilt, no self accountability, hostile and defensive. It isn't his fault that he isn't making as much money as he said he did on his rent application--he hadn't been late in the course of 9 months and there was no reason to not renew the lease, which had nothing, in his mind, to do with his rent problems 3 months before the lease is up. Not, "I can see your concern and understand it. I'm going to make sure things are right between us and show you I'm reliable." Nope. It was "How can you do that to me?!" Well, you lock yourself out about once a month and need me to come let you in. You almost missed paying rent on time the first 2 months you were here. One time you made the check out for the wrong amount and I had to get that fixed. You clearly weren't honest with me on your rental application, and you presently don't meet the criteria to rent from me. I'm sorry if that puts you in a bind, but that isn't my problem. I didn't get you into this mess. It isn't my job to help you through it."
Which brings me to one of my Great Truths: You can't solve some people's problems. All you can do is shoulder the consequences of their problems and free them up to go find new problems to get into.