It's probably easier to ask what doesn't suck since that would be a much shorter list, but I'm not providing an exhaustive list and decided the title could stay the way it is.

The Trails of White Rock is an apartment complex near White Rock Lake here in Dallas.  It also happens to be the apartment complex I just moved out of.  Originally owned by Trammell Crow (Residential Services), the community was sold about a year ago to what I can only describe as the worst apartment management company ever conceived.

Immediately after the new management company took over, the complex started to fall apart.  In a complex which used an earth-tone color scheme, they decided to paint all of the doors and metal railing black — gloss black.  The grounds were allowed to fall into disrepair as trees were no longer pruned, landscaping was ignored outside of mowing the grass, pet care facilities (for those walking dogs and needing to pick up the aftermath of dog-walking) were emptied and left that way (meaning the grass became a minefield of dog droppings), and the list goes on.  And all of that happened in just the first few months.  Several of my friends moved out rather quickly because they could see where this was going.

While Derek was in the hospital the first time (before his brief return home), the apartment management came to me and told me they were going to tow Derek's car because it was inoperable.  On the contrary, the car was just fine — it was the driver that was inoperable.  I explained to them that Derek had been in the hospital for several months and hadn't been driving his car (by this time Derek had been hospitalized for about 9 months).  I very clearly told them that the car was fine and that they shouldn't tow it.  When all I got was a blank stare, I decided to call the manager.  After three different calls (each time leaving a voicemail) and no return call, I contacted the manager's boss at the management company.  I called her twice and left two messages, but, as you can guess, I received no call back.

I eventually had to storm into the apartment office and pin the manager down long enough to explain the situation to him and to make it clear that towing Derek's car would be a breach of contract and grand theft auto.  He politely explained that he had told the office workers to let me know that they weren't going to tow the car — and that he had left that message with them the previous week.

After laughing in his face and calling him a liar (I had, after all, specifically left him three messages to call me back about it — which he didn't do), I told him he was playing with fire and shouldn't be so clearly deceitful about this.  I left it at that, and the car stayed where it was.

On at least one occasion I know that someone from the management office entered the apartment without notice (before or after).  My proof was in the apartment itself — black paint on the inside of the door and on several light switches throughout the apartment.  Since they had recently gone through painting doors (exteriors only) and other items around the complex, I could only guess they had entered the apartment with wet paint on their hands.  To this day they refuse to admit they were in the apartment despite the proof being there for them to see.

After Derek was hospitalized the second time, we realized he would not be coming home again.  His family was already in town to take him back to his hometown, so it only made sense for me to move out of the three bedroom, two bath apartment.  I certainly didn't need all that space and didn't want to pay rent on something that I wasn't going to use (all of it, that is).  Since one of the tenants had vacated the apartment due to medical necessity, I thought it would be easy to get into a smaller unit.  The management was already aware of Derek's situation because of the car incident, so I went to talk to them about moving.

I spoke with the manager (which had become an unpleasant experience given what had already transpired).  He told me that I was stuck and had to finish the lease before he could move me to a smaller apartment.  His excuse?  He couldn't modify the lease.

I explained to him that he could indeed modify the lease as it was clearly stated that the lease could be modified through a written addendum signed by the tenant(s) and the management company.  At this point I was already wasting my time as he said that wasn't an option and I'd need to finish the lease.

I politely explained that I would gladly sign a six-month lease if he would let me move and that, if I couldn't move, I'd give my sixty days notice and would move out of the complex altogether.  I thought that offering sure income for six months versus paying through the sixty days notice would be a no-brainer for him — but I learned he was the no-brainer (as in doesn't have one).  He said that wasn't an option and that I could sign a six-month lease on a new place once I finished the lease on the current place.

Well, I'd had it by then.  Derek had already moved back to his hometown, so I was stuck with the place.

I moved out of there on September 17 of 2004.  They called me a week later to ask why I was leaving and if there was anything they could do to keep me there as a tenant.

I laughed my ass off.  Of course there wasn't.  There was no way in hell I'd stay there.  They had screwed me over and over and seemed to enjoy doing so.  I explained to the woman everything that had happened, so she asked if I had escalated the issues to the manager's boss.

Again I laughed.  Of course I had.  The problem was that the manager was learning from his boss.  Both of the phone calls to the woman went unanswered.  I left messages both times and got nothing in return (just as the manager had done to me over the car).

All I can say is that the place should be avoided like the plague.  The management doesn't care about the tenants.  They don't care about the grounds.  They don't have one ounce of humanity in them.  If they can screw you, they'll do it with a smile on their face.

So, what sucks about the Trails of White Rock apartments?  Everything.