Fear and loathing in The Hague #3

Song of this post:
Bush - Everything Zen

Another day later, my first landlord writes a mail saying that we took some of his stuff, which we really did, albeit accidentally and mostly due to everyone having the same IKEA stuff these days because it's the only affordable stuff unless you've got a nice big monthly pay-cheque.
Before S and I headed there to return it, he called me wanting to confirm that I brought not only his stuff, but also the half-month rent I had offered and which he had "declined" before. I told him I wasn't going to pay him anything anymore, that he'd has said it was my decision and I had decided and that the whole affair would be over as far as I was concerned once I had handed him his stuff. He went on another mab rambling argument trying to cite contract violation - what contract? Oh yeah, the one we never signed! - until I told him I wasn't going to change my position no matter how much he kept talking.
When S and I showed up at the place, he answered the door in full running-gear and carrying a camera. When he asked me if I had "throught about it again" I told him there were no changes in my position regarding the money - and *flashflash* he started taking pictures. S and I turned around and started walking away ... and he followed, running around us like a mad paparazzi trying to get pictures of our faces and babbling on about how he was going to stop once I had paid the money I "owed" him. S was getting quite scared by his behaviour, he was still following us back to the tram stop, and when he didn't stop even though we repeatedly told him to get lost and stop trying to take our pictures, I called the police...

I think that's only the second time ever I called the police, and the first time because I actually felt threatened.
Anyhow. They arrived within a few minutes, we told our story to one officer, he told his story to another officer ... and that was pretty much it. He was sent home and told to delete all the pictures he took (which he did), and we learned that he wasn't even allowed to sublet the place as it was, since he was only renting it himself and it didn't belong to him, and that he would be getting a lot of trouble and probably get kicked out if the official places heard of this!

We went home and tried to salvage what we could from the mostly-ruined evening, which wasn't that much, with S being wired and me in utter disbelieve and still high on adrenaline.

Now I found another place, rented out by an old guy (around 70 I'd guess), I have receipts for the deposit and partial rent I paid and my only worry is that he could die early.
I'll be moving my stuff next weekend, and from then on I'll hopefully have finally arrived in The Hague and can start worrying about just work and a long-distance relationship and fill my sparetime with fun stuff like playing games and planning visits of/to my friends' places.

...just waiting for the next desaster to hit...

Ta-taa.