He's NOT the Exterminator

People, please, use your brain.

It's the oldest trick in the book -- man comes to door, man says he's the exterminator, man steals your valuables. 

I came home from my birthday dinner in the Boob Room at 33 Restaurant last night and thankfully, I was too tired and a little tipsy to notice that someone had dented in my dead bolt and the door frame had been chiseled and dented. 

When I woke this morning, I put on my flip-flops and walked out the door in search of coffee. It was then that I noticed the banged-up door. I immediately went to the landlord's restaurant and he came over to survey the damage. We asked the blonde dipshit on the first floor if she noticed anyone in the building yesterday, and the dipshit admitted she let in a man claiming to be an exterminator.

"Was he wearing a name tag?" The landlord asked.

"No."

"Did you get the name of the company he worked for?"

"No."

"Did he have any equipment with him?"

"He had a few mouse traps."

She can't be serious. But she was. And she let him in the building, right up the stairs to my apartment. Thankfully, my door served it's purpose - to protect my apartment from predators (insects or people). It's a little dented and beaten up, but it's standing. Still, I can't help feeling a little violated...

I'm going to clean.