I do not, however, love Michael's landlord

I was talking to Michael the other day and he mentioned that he couldn't remember if he had dropped off the January rent check with his landlord or not. He calls her and says he can't remember if he did, but that he would be back on January 2nd and, since he's out of town and his hands are tied and he will be back on the 2nd would it be alright if he paid her then.
No. She advised him that he would have to pay a $25 late fee.
Michael has lived in his current apartment for over three years. He's never been late with the rent or bounced a check or had a complaint against him. Nothing. He is the perfect tenant. He doesn't drink or smoke or have parties or pets. Nada. He will say hello to her when he passes her and she does not respond to him. One time she screamed at him because he was "late" with the rent and told him he would have to pay a $25 fine and Michael was positive he had slid the cheque under her office door and pleaded with her to go through her office one more time. She did, and she found the cheque and she did not apologize to him.
But, even though it's Christmas, the landlady just can't let the rent slide for a couple of days.
I say "Fine. I'll go pay her and then you can pay me back and it'll save you $25". This means he will have $25 more to spend on me, which pleases me.
So yesterday I leave a detailed voice mail with Elizabeth. I ask her to please confirm that Michael did not in fact slip a check under her door before he left and to please call me and let me know when I could drop a check by and to whom it should be made out, etc.
She returns my call today at noon and after I say hello she introduces herself and then says, "You left me a message".
That's it: "You left me a message."
Well, I left you a detailed message in the hopes that you would get back to me with some informative answers, but I guess I'll have to drag them out of you.
After sort of confirming that she doesn't have a post-dated cheque from Michael I said I would come down at 2pm and write her a cheque.
I arrive and she is in the cubbyhole that is in her office. I am polite and she motions me to sit down. I start to write out the cheque - dating it for December 31st because she demands to be paid a day early and I haven't yet discerned whether this is legal or not, but you can rest assured that after today I most certainly will - and I ask who to make it out to and how much it is. I give her the cheque and I said "I would like a receipt".
"No."
I'm not kidding. That was actually her response.
She proceeds to tell me she will not issue me a receipt. I again request a receipt to which she responds that my receipt will be the cleared cheque that is returned to me with my bank statement.
I am silent for a moment because of the ludicrous conversation I am having with someone that appears to be socially maladjusted and lack familiarity with basic business functions.
I find myself responding that my bank does not return my cleared cheques to me.
She then advises me to just monitor my statement to see the cheque clear.
I ask for a receipt yet again and she becomes angry and says that she had been doing Michael a "favor" by "allowing" him to have someone come down and pay his rent.
Seriously. She said this. I mean, re-read the last sentence. It was enough to send me for a nine mile run when I got home.
I, with what must have been a look of utter incredulity, face her squarely and say (okay, yell), "No. A favour would have been you allowing him two day's grace so he could pay you when he came back from his holidays!".
She then accuses me of trying to make her feel guilty and then advises me that the conversation is over.
Okay.
I want a receipt, I advise.
She continues to argue against it and I tell her that I need a receipt from her to give it to Michael as proof of payment so that he can pay me. She says that she shouldn't even be doing this because she doesn't even know who I am. I inform her that my name is on the lease also. Give me a receipt.
She gets out the receipt book, slams it on the desk and proceeds to make out a receipt all the while muttering that she doesn't know who I am and that I just came in off the street (um, all the more reason to give me a receipt, don't you think) while I try to still my shaking hands.
She tears off the receipt and slides it towards me and I say thank you and stand up and, serving up the biggest slice of sarcasm I can I so bitingly wish her a Merry Christmas.
What. The. Fuck. Makes someone so bitter and angry in their life? How in the hell did she manage to turn what should have been a succinct business transaction into a vicious argument?
I understand that she has never had an orgasm in her life, nor has she ever held a kitten or played with a Tickle-Me-Elmo and this has quite evidently stunted her emotionally.
But come on.
She is absolutely a see-you-next-Tuesday.