On a bright, crisp morning last week, I headed downstairs from my South Campus Commons apartment to do my regular bicycle commute to my downtown internship – only to find the bike gone. I had managed to keep the fairly beat-up machine for three and a half years without it being stolen, but I guess fate didn’t want me to miss out on the experience. In a state of panic, I asked the community assistant in my building if the police had seen anything (they hadn’t), but rather than having me file a police report, I was advised to ask maintenance if they had it. Being a good citizen, I made sure to register and tag my bike when I moved in, so I was sure that it couldn’t have been mistaken for an abandoned bike.
Nevertheless, after getting the correct number and waiting until after 9 a.m., I did my duty and made the call. For the next 45 minutes, I heard things from the Commons management that would make flying pigs seem mundane. Apparently, my bike wasn’t registered (it most definitely was), and since there isn’t enough space for the residents to park their bikes, non-residents’ bikes must be removed. When I explained that my bike was registered and had a tag on it, she said that it couldn’t have, or they wouldn’t have cut it. They had lost the registration forms that I filled out when I registered my bike; when I got the bike back, the tag was of course gone, and since I don’t think squirrels like to eat plastic bike tags, it could have only been someone on the staff who removed it to avoid the embarrassment of being proven wrong. When I called to complain, I was told that I must have removed it. Don’t ask me where that logic came from.
I truly wonder how many of the bikes removed actually belong to residents. And what about friends that are visiting? It turns out that the staff is supposed put a warning slip on your bike letting you know that they will remove it. I most certainly did not get a warning slip for my bike, not that a warning slip makes it OK. When I told my coworkers the story, one of them asked, “Don’t the staff have anything better to do?” I also wonder. How about getting to the real root of the problem, which is not having enough bike racks? Needless to say, I don’t pay $705 a month to have my bike lock destroyed and my bike inaccessible for two days.
You may be wondering how the management of Commons gets away with such poor service, dishonesty, incompetence and price-gouging. The answer is simple: Commons is the only on-campus apartment option available to seniors. They have a monopoly. When seniors were still able to live in the South Hill apartments, rent at Commons was significantly less.
Many students don’t bother complaining to the management because they are too busy with classes and activities, or they don’t see the benefit of raising their concerns. However, the only way residents of Commons will get better management is by letting the directors and staff know that their service is lacking. The squeaky wheel always gets the grease. I am happily moving out when I graduate in May, but until then, I will continue to provide feedback and helpful criticism, and I hope others squeak along with me.
Jonah Richmond is a senior environmental science and policy major. He can be reached at jrichmon@umd.edu.
