I called this evening to return his call. It's been a few days, so he couldn't even remember what it was he called about. I so shouldn't have bothered.
Instead, he asked what the certified piece of mail I'd sent was about. So, I told him briefly (that we want to know if he's selling the apartment or something, because we one day come home to find all the closet doors open, as though he'd been showing the place)- and that led to a five-minute chewing out. The locks need to be changed, how dare I accuse him of this and that, etc. Seriously, yelling at me over the phone.
I kept my cool and told him that we're not accusing him of anything, but just exploring all possibilities. I had to repeat myself multiple times, as he continually interrupted me before I could get a word out. I also had to tell this alleged "man" several times my age that I was speaking to him in a calm and rational tone, and that he should afford me the same respect in turn. When he continued to simply repeat himself and just get more agitated each time, I told him that it was all in the letter, and he'd made himself clear, and that I was hanging up. And I did.
Damn. Now I know how a liberal talking to Bill O'Reilly feels.
I'm really glad it happened over the phone. My hands were shaking by the end, and I started crying. I'm so glad I didn't let him see that.
I'm not so glad that I might be stuck paying his ass another year for my share of an apartment I don't want to be in anymore. Fucking immature underhanded shithead. As far as being in our apartment illegally goes, methinks he doth protest too much.