KJ(Not Dub)

I have spent the better part of thirty minutes surfing through one of my favorite sites (dictionary.com) in hopes of finding the perfect adjective with which to describe my Waikiki building manager KJ when we complain to his boss. Here are a few that I thought were appropriate:

Petulant: moved to or showing sudden, impatient irritation, esp. over some trifling annoyance

Curmundgeonly: brusque and surly and forbidding; "crusty remarks"; "a crusty old man"

Imperious: domineering in a haughty manner; dictatorial; overbearing

Thank you dictionary.com. Let me tell you a few anecdotes to help you understand:
1) I am minding my own business in the elevator when KJ boards. He turns to me and says, "You know, the pool guy had to clean up your mess today." "What mess?" I reply. "You know. All those cigarette butts you and your friends have been dropping from your lanai. Are you all about through with that?" Wanting to clear this up quickly I say, "Umm, KJ, my roommates and I don't smoke, none of us do..." "Sure," he quips back, "None of you would do that. Just keep in mind that someone ELSE has to pick up these things" Sensing his obvious disbelief in my innocence, I scramble to defend my reputation and find myself saying, "KJ, three of the four of us have severe asthma, we definitely would not smoke in in our apartment!" As unbelievable a lie as it is, KJ seems relieved, "Oh you do? Good. I'm glad to hear that."
2) Harrison leaves his keys in the elevator. It may be important to note here that you cannot go up or down in the elevator without keys, meaning that Harrison spent the weekend waiting outside the building for someone else to let him up, and was unable to go down in the elevator without one of us going too. Keys are extra important here. After searching for them over the weekend to no avail, Harrison visits KJ's office Monday afternoon to ask if anyone has turned them in. He tells KJ that his keys are on a key ring with a bright orange flip-flop key chain (a gift from our landlord) so they are hard to miss. KJ says he hasn't seen them, but that he does have the mail key our landlord sent him for us. As he opens his top desk drawer to retrieve the mail key, Harrison spies a bright orange flip-flop. "Hey!! That's my key!" KJ, caught, hands Harrison the missing keys on the flip-flop key ring saying, "Yeah, someone turned them in Friday, I just wanted to teach you a lesson." Let me also note here that KJ lives in the building and could have returned them over the weekend, and that at least once a week there is a note in the elevator from some tenant who left his or her keys in the elevator lock. Why does KJ pick on us? I don't know, these are a few small examples of our encounters with KJ.