When I agreed to the sales contract for the house in Leeds, I figured there was a greater chance of Mr. Smith moving out on Oct. 1 than this woman performing. My uuber-patient and totally wonderful agent, Jack, was optimistic. But he isn't managing the Jaded Empire.
The buyer came in with no earnest money. I asked for it in the counter-offer and was told she didn't have it because she had to pay some bill. Jack reminded me it was a two week close. We could ask for the earnest money or wait two weeks and find out. What was two weeks among friends? Would the house have been rented out if I hadn't taken her offer? Maybe. Maybe not.
Back to the buyer. In order to qualify, she was using every conceivable seller-assistance program known to man--all going away October 1. What this meant to me was, in order to make this sale go through, I was required to help her out with the closing costs, down payment and jump through a bunch of hoops for the good people at the Federal Housing Authority bureaucracy. Part of which I was willing to do. Making this house go away would be worth it.
The FHA inspector did their job last week. They inspected the property, informing me I was to help the buyer out by doing about $10,000 worth of repairs. The most ridiculous one was replacing the roof. Why replace the roof? Because I could not verify the roof's age, therefore it might be old. The roof doesn't leak. But, without maintenance and proper care by the new owner it might leak sometime down the road. Therefore, FHA wanted me to replace this before the new buyer had a problem. There were other stupid issues. For example, the house was built in 1954. The wiring is not up to code for 2008 standards. I was expected to rewire.
I refused these repairs. Instead, I agreed to fix the leaking toilet, the broken back steps and a few other odd jobs that would cause harm to a new seller. I was not willing to guarantee the safety and comfort of the buyer 10 years down the road with a new roof. In the end, either the buyer was ok with my choices or the buying agent needed the commission badly enough that she talked the buyer into taking her chances with the roof. And, somewhere in there, the buyer's agent or Jack worked their magic too. The FHA inspector disappeared and the repair list hasn't been seen since.
The one absolutely bright spot in this entire process was the appraisal. The appraiser comped the house at $9,000 more than I was asking. A savvy seller might ask why I let Jack price the house so low. Simply because this house is worth about $9,000 less than I had it listed for. Jack and I crossed our fingers and toes hoping we would get it to appraise for what I was asking. I know how to run comps. I saw the comps Jack ran. I can do the math. The appraiser was smoking something really special the day she comped my property. And, even better, she sent me the full appraisal! So, now I can use it for the next potential buyer. And, yes, Jack raised the price.
The other minor victory was the buyer's agent didn't know how to write a contract. I am off the off the hook for the $800 appraisal. An outrageous fee for any appraisal. But, that is what FHA charges. The buyer's agent also got me off the hook for the FHA inspection. This was another $800 I don't have to come in with. If it closed, I would have paid for these items.
Last week, anyone not living under a rock heard about the "financial crisis." Apparently the buyer did not live under a rock. She started to panic. Today, on her way to the closing table, she bailed. Home ownership was not in the cards for her.
On one hand I am really glad. If someone isn't ready for the responsibility, don't do it. And, if it was too much money for her, don't let the tax payers have to deal with her mistake later on. Thank you.
I personally will sleep well tonight. I was dreading calling my partner and explaining how we took a huge hit on this house in Leeds. We would have walked away with less than the equivalent of one month's mortgage payment as our gross profit. I firmly believe dumping out the bad stuff is worth it. I just wasn't ready to find out if he shared my sentiment. After all, he has missed all the drama with this property.
On the other hand, I am still stuck with this house. Jack has put it back on the market. I am still looking for a renter. The house still has the same issues it had before. And, it isn't the roof that is the problem. It is the neighbors.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I Lost Her at "Background Check"
On my Birmingham phone this morning, I had sixteen missed calls from the same phone number. However, no message. For the first time, I broke one of my major rules and called back the person who wanted so desperately to speak with me.
Caller ID is way too convenient. I hate it when I get a call from some stranger saying, "Yea, this is Joe, I just got a call at this number." If I really wanted to talk with Joe, I would have left a message. Now I understand Joe's position. Perhaps he is advertising a rental property.
In this case, my caller was Ms. Thomas. She knew exactly where my vacant home was located. More the point, she was interested. We talked about some general things related to renting. Dollar amount, terms, schools. She gave me the details of what she needed and what she wanted. And then, she asked me the question. "What do I need to do to move in?"
Looking back, what she was really asking was how could she persuade Carolsue to hand over the keys. Instead, I innocently mistook her question simply as what is the next step in my rental process. I told her she would need to fill out an application. I would run a credit/background/eviction check. I explained credit issues generally aren't really a problem. However, I do not rent to anyone who has a prior felony conviction. Nor do I rent to anyone who has been evicted.
Ms. Thomas grew silent. Finally she said, "I'll call you back." And with that, she was gone.
Caller ID is way too convenient. I hate it when I get a call from some stranger saying, "Yea, this is Joe, I just got a call at this number." If I really wanted to talk with Joe, I would have left a message. Now I understand Joe's position. Perhaps he is advertising a rental property.
In this case, my caller was Ms. Thomas. She knew exactly where my vacant home was located. More the point, she was interested. We talked about some general things related to renting. Dollar amount, terms, schools. She gave me the details of what she needed and what she wanted. And then, she asked me the question. "What do I need to do to move in?"
Looking back, what she was really asking was how could she persuade Carolsue to hand over the keys. Instead, I innocently mistook her question simply as what is the next step in my rental process. I told her she would need to fill out an application. I would run a credit/background/eviction check. I explained credit issues generally aren't really a problem. However, I do not rent to anyone who has a prior felony conviction. Nor do I rent to anyone who has been evicted.
Ms. Thomas grew silent. Finally she said, "I'll call you back." And with that, she was gone.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Jaded Empire
Mr. Richards moved in about a year ago. I wasn't sure how I felt about Mr. Richards originally. Before he ever rented from me, Trusted met him and ultimately, Mr. Richards passed the Trusted test.
Mr. Richards has been a decent tenant. He doesn't pay on time, but he pays the late fees. It isn't that he is a deadbeat. He pays late because because his pay days do not coincide with my rent due dates.
My biggest complaint about Mr. Richards isn't that he pays late. It is that he neglects to tell me he will be paying late. Usually, I can figure this out when the rent due date comes along and his check is missing. Generally I give him a few days and then call him. Mr. Richards always calls me back, politely telling me when I can expect his check. And, without fail his check will show up as promised.
After fretting about Mr. Richards early on, I realized he does pay every month. My concerns about him fell to the bottom of my list, with my new task being to train Mr. Richards to call me instead the other way around.
Two months ago, all that training paid off. Mr. Richards called, letting me know his next several pay days, so I could plan on expecting my rent on the prescribed days. I carefully circled his paydates, so we could avoid the cat-and-mouse monthly phone calls. This month, I waited in joyful hope as Mr. Richard's rent check was to arrive as promised. It did not come.
On Saturday, I phoned Mr. Richard's home, left my patented dully annoyed message, explaining rent was due. He liked living there. I liked keeping my credit score above par. Please do us both a favor and pay before I lost my mind.
Mr. Richards called this morning before 7 a.m. to tell me he had been in the hospital and informed me of when I could expect his rent check. My response was my patented dully annoyed, "Uh huh."
As Mr. Richards continued his elaborate on his story of his poor demise, I became more and more skeptical. After all, he wasn't the first to give me this line. And, he wasn't the only one late. Mrs. 508 is getting on my nerves. Mrs. 3001 tells me (for the third month in a row) "things are a bit tough." I have heard from others about there woes. And now, Mr. Richards just happens to land himself in the hospital.
There was a time I could handle Mrs. 3001's tales of woe (though in her defense, she does not whine). There was a time when Mr. Richards would not have incurred my skepticism. Now because of the likes of Wayward and Mr. Smith, every excuse--plausible or not--is met with my patented dully annoyed, "Uh huh."
When I think about it, Mr. Richards is most likely telling the truth. In our conversation, he offered me the name of the hospital, the doctor treating him (including a doctor's note) and gave me updates on his pay periods. He offered to overnight his rent (with late fees) to me as soon as he got his worker's compensation later this week. He wanted to do right by me. Which is more than I can say for those who caused my skepticism in the first place.
Mr. Richards has been a decent tenant. He doesn't pay on time, but he pays the late fees. It isn't that he is a deadbeat. He pays late because because his pay days do not coincide with my rent due dates.
My biggest complaint about Mr. Richards isn't that he pays late. It is that he neglects to tell me he will be paying late. Usually, I can figure this out when the rent due date comes along and his check is missing. Generally I give him a few days and then call him. Mr. Richards always calls me back, politely telling me when I can expect his check. And, without fail his check will show up as promised.
After fretting about Mr. Richards early on, I realized he does pay every month. My concerns about him fell to the bottom of my list, with my new task being to train Mr. Richards to call me instead the other way around.
Two months ago, all that training paid off. Mr. Richards called, letting me know his next several pay days, so I could plan on expecting my rent on the prescribed days. I carefully circled his paydates, so we could avoid the cat-and-mouse monthly phone calls. This month, I waited in joyful hope as Mr. Richard's rent check was to arrive as promised. It did not come.
On Saturday, I phoned Mr. Richard's home, left my patented dully annoyed message, explaining rent was due. He liked living there. I liked keeping my credit score above par. Please do us both a favor and pay before I lost my mind.
Mr. Richards called this morning before 7 a.m. to tell me he had been in the hospital and informed me of when I could expect his rent check. My response was my patented dully annoyed, "Uh huh."
As Mr. Richards continued his elaborate on his story of his poor demise, I became more and more skeptical. After all, he wasn't the first to give me this line. And, he wasn't the only one late. Mrs. 508 is getting on my nerves. Mrs. 3001 tells me (for the third month in a row) "things are a bit tough." I have heard from others about there woes. And now, Mr. Richards just happens to land himself in the hospital.
There was a time I could handle Mrs. 3001's tales of woe (though in her defense, she does not whine). There was a time when Mr. Richards would not have incurred my skepticism. Now because of the likes of Wayward and Mr. Smith, every excuse--plausible or not--is met with my patented dully annoyed, "Uh huh."
When I think about it, Mr. Richards is most likely telling the truth. In our conversation, he offered me the name of the hospital, the doctor treating him (including a doctor's note) and gave me updates on his pay periods. He offered to overnight his rent (with late fees) to me as soon as he got his worker's compensation later this week. He wanted to do right by me. Which is more than I can say for those who caused my skepticism in the first place.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Today's Quotes
Experience is the worst teacher; It gives the test before presenting the lesson. - Vernon Law
A man's errors are his portals of discovery. - James Joyce
Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes. - Oscar Wilde
Good judgment comes from experience, and often experience comes from bad judgment. - Rita Mae Brown
If experience was so important, we'd never have had anyone walk on the moon. - Doug Rader
A man's errors are his portals of discovery. - James Joyce
Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes. - Oscar Wilde
Good judgment comes from experience, and often experience comes from bad judgment. - Rita Mae Brown
If experience was so important, we'd never have had anyone walk on the moon. - Doug Rader
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I've Got Jack
About a year ago, on a lark, I let one of my tenants do a tarot card reading on me. The Jack of Cups kept showing up in my reading. Apparently this Jack dude is a bad-ass omen.
My tenant told me Jack represented a man in my life who was going to cause all sorts chaos. I didn't put a heck of a lot of stock into this at the time. But, over the course of the past few months, sometimes I would think about Jack. Jack kept nagging at me. Who wanted to hurt me? Why?
If I had guessed then, my answer would have been the same as it is today. Mr. Smith. Today, Mr. Smith transitioned from petty annoyance to festering boil.
Legal Eagle gave me the bad news this morning. Mr. Smith has decided not to vacate. Let's face it, I didn't believe him two weeks ago when I received his e-mail, telling me would be gone on "the first." Instead, he is fighting me. In court.
Yes, next month I get to go in front of a judge and explain on the record why Mr. Smith should leave my home. Intellectually, I know I have the law on my side. And, as Carolsue pointed out, I have the high-powered DFWLY, Attorneys at Law representing me. No matter who Mr. Smith picks, it won't be as good. And, as I explained to Legal Eagle today, I could fight this longer than he can.
My dear Husband tells me this is no big deal as long as I remember one basic rule. "Just don't call him an idiot in front of the judge." He said. "Let Mr. Smith open his mouth and prove it instead."
My tenant told me Jack represented a man in my life who was going to cause all sorts chaos. I didn't put a heck of a lot of stock into this at the time. But, over the course of the past few months, sometimes I would think about Jack. Jack kept nagging at me. Who wanted to hurt me? Why?
If I had guessed then, my answer would have been the same as it is today. Mr. Smith. Today, Mr. Smith transitioned from petty annoyance to festering boil.
Legal Eagle gave me the bad news this morning. Mr. Smith has decided not to vacate. Let's face it, I didn't believe him two weeks ago when I received his e-mail, telling me would be gone on "the first." Instead, he is fighting me. In court.
Yes, next month I get to go in front of a judge and explain on the record why Mr. Smith should leave my home. Intellectually, I know I have the law on my side. And, as Carolsue pointed out, I have the high-powered DFWLY, Attorneys at Law representing me. No matter who Mr. Smith picks, it won't be as good. And, as I explained to Legal Eagle today, I could fight this longer than he can.
My dear Husband tells me this is no big deal as long as I remember one basic rule. "Just don't call him an idiot in front of the judge." He said. "Let Mr. Smith open his mouth and prove it instead."
Monday, September 22, 2008
$35 + $15 = $50
I picked my bank only because it was one of the two financial institutions located in both Alabama and Arizona. Normally, I am very pleased with my bank. This level of satisfaction is because I don't go into the branch near my home. Doing so only causes heart palpitations and annoyance akin to what Mr. Smith usually brings me. I bank at the branch about eight miles away. It isn't that the people at that branch know me, but they seem to be competent enough to do their job.
Recently I broke my personal edict and opted to go into the branch nearby. I brought in my bank bag, which had my deposit slip and the checks already processed and ready to go into my account. I always clip these together so there is no confusion. On this day, I handed the teller my deposit bag and let her take care of business.
"There's a check missing," the teller told me as she began processing my deposit. Missing? Holy cow! After a lot more "holy cows" and a lot more panicking, I retraced my steps, hoping I had just dropped it. No luck. I had to call the tenant.
"Hi, I got your rent check but lost it. Could you stop payment and send another one. Immediately?" Yea, I looked that stupid.
Last week, the teller called me. She found the check. It was behind her computer. How it got there is anyone's guess. She send me the check back with a "letter of apology" which said, "Enclosed is your check. Mistakes were made." She didn't say, "oops," but that was the gist.
Meanwhile, my tenant deducted $50 for stop payment fee. As he wasn't planning on having to stop payment on his first check, his new rent check was less the fee. Fair enough. It wasn't his fault.
Today I went to my normal branch, armed with the letter of apology, the old check (returned from the teller) and my new check which was $50 less than it should be. I wanted to be reimbursed. To me this is cut and dry. The bank teller lost the check. The tenant deducted the money for the stop payment. The bank owes me the difference. My normal branch saw it my way. The branch where the teller works did not.
Ms. Manager called me. She informed me she would reimburse me $35, but not the $50 stop payment fee the tenant paid. Was she serious? Yes, she was. Does this make sense? No it doesn't.
Although Ms. Manager had readily admitted the teller was at fault, she wasn't budging. I had heartily given my opinion of her concession. She thought I was being unreasonable in not taking her gracious offer of $35 for a $50 loss. Let's face it. I didn't put the check under the teller's computer. I can't even reach the teller's computer from where I stood. My tenant's stop payment was a reasonable course of action. I even explained I had to loose credibility with my tenant (who has never met me) because of an error with her employee. "Yes, but the teller sent you a letter of apology," Ms. Manager explained.
Around the twelfth time she and I played this game, I gave up. There gets to be a point where $15 isn't worth quibbling over. I was there. I wanted off the phone. I wanted to go on with my day. I figured I would later on send a letter to the bank, along with all of the relevant details and express my displeasure. If the bank saw fit to do something at that point, yay me. Right then and there, I just wanted Ms. Manager out of my life. "Do whatever you need to do." I told her, just wanting to end this call.
Suddenly as if the last several minutes had never happened, she said, "I will reimburse you the $50. But, I don't feel good about this." To me, it isn't a matter of feeling good or bad. It is a simple math problem.
Perhaps Ms. Manager felt generous or maybe she had a psychic premonition I was planning on tattling on her employee. Whatever the reason, she changed her mind and I got what was owed to me.
Recently I broke my personal edict and opted to go into the branch nearby. I brought in my bank bag, which had my deposit slip and the checks already processed and ready to go into my account. I always clip these together so there is no confusion. On this day, I handed the teller my deposit bag and let her take care of business.
"There's a check missing," the teller told me as she began processing my deposit. Missing? Holy cow! After a lot more "holy cows" and a lot more panicking, I retraced my steps, hoping I had just dropped it. No luck. I had to call the tenant.
"Hi, I got your rent check but lost it. Could you stop payment and send another one. Immediately?" Yea, I looked that stupid.
Last week, the teller called me. She found the check. It was behind her computer. How it got there is anyone's guess. She send me the check back with a "letter of apology" which said, "Enclosed is your check. Mistakes were made." She didn't say, "oops," but that was the gist.
Meanwhile, my tenant deducted $50 for stop payment fee. As he wasn't planning on having to stop payment on his first check, his new rent check was less the fee. Fair enough. It wasn't his fault.
Today I went to my normal branch, armed with the letter of apology, the old check (returned from the teller) and my new check which was $50 less than it should be. I wanted to be reimbursed. To me this is cut and dry. The bank teller lost the check. The tenant deducted the money for the stop payment. The bank owes me the difference. My normal branch saw it my way. The branch where the teller works did not.
Ms. Manager called me. She informed me she would reimburse me $35, but not the $50 stop payment fee the tenant paid. Was she serious? Yes, she was. Does this make sense? No it doesn't.
Although Ms. Manager had readily admitted the teller was at fault, she wasn't budging. I had heartily given my opinion of her concession. She thought I was being unreasonable in not taking her gracious offer of $35 for a $50 loss. Let's face it. I didn't put the check under the teller's computer. I can't even reach the teller's computer from where I stood. My tenant's stop payment was a reasonable course of action. I even explained I had to loose credibility with my tenant (who has never met me) because of an error with her employee. "Yes, but the teller sent you a letter of apology," Ms. Manager explained.
Around the twelfth time she and I played this game, I gave up. There gets to be a point where $15 isn't worth quibbling over. I was there. I wanted off the phone. I wanted to go on with my day. I figured I would later on send a letter to the bank, along with all of the relevant details and express my displeasure. If the bank saw fit to do something at that point, yay me. Right then and there, I just wanted Ms. Manager out of my life. "Do whatever you need to do." I told her, just wanting to end this call.
Suddenly as if the last several minutes had never happened, she said, "I will reimburse you the $50. But, I don't feel good about this." To me, it isn't a matter of feeling good or bad. It is a simple math problem.
Perhaps Ms. Manager felt generous or maybe she had a psychic premonition I was planning on tattling on her employee. Whatever the reason, she changed her mind and I got what was owed to me.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Behind the Reams
It isn't that I don't appreciate Bliz or my CPA. I do. Very much. But, I swear they are conspiring against me. What other reason could there be for the mountains of papers they make me keep?
Mount Thisneedstobefiled is an ongoing saga. CPA says I have to save everything for a period of time. This period of time depends upon whether the IRS is involved or not. For example, bank statements are saved longer than paid mortgage statements. But they are both stored at my home.
Every month I send Bliz (who lives in another state), all of my bills. Sometimes I fax them. Sometimes I scan them. Scanning and faxing bring their own user-competency technology challenges, which are too long and complicated for this post. It boils down to this: mailing her everything is easier. And less frustrating.
Bliz in turn does her magic and then sends it all back to me. I don't ask her to send the tons of paper back my way. She just figures it is her obligation to her office's storage capacity and sanity as well as her responsibility to me to dump it back on my lap....er, I mean return my possessions. I love that about her. She is so darned efficient. This is one area where I wish she would lax a bit. Keep my papers. Please!
My standard operating procedure is to take the monthly tons of paid bills Bliz returns to me and shove them in my "to be filed" basket sitting on a shelf in my office. My hope it to ignore it long enough that the papers file themselves. Instead what happens is that the papers in the basket end up spilling on to my desk, commingling with the other projects that were minding their own business. Once this happens all hell breaks loose and I can't find anything. I think the paper starts reproducing when I am not looking. But I can't be sure.
The other day, I opted to fax to Bliz (for the record, it took two attempts). A rare occurrence because of the aforementioned user/technology issues. Afterwards, I called Bliz and asked her if I faxed her a particular bill. She said yes. However, that particular item was sitting far away from everything else I had just faxed her. The rest of the pile was in my to be filed box.
Filing has always been my challenge. Years ago, I hired sweet young woman to help me with this. Unfortunately, she wasn't much of a filing clerk. I am still finding surprises--like a deed for one of my homes filed with bank statements. I have toyed with asking one of the neighborhood teenagers if they wanted to make a bit of money, but I really don't want the neighbors to know this much about my business. Every year, my CPA suggests I hire my children to help with the filing. My kids are in second grade and kindergarten. A very long time ago, my pedantically tidy husband offered to take over the filing. However, he swears that never happened and he denies saying it. For the record, I know he did. I just wish I had gotten it in writing. For now, I am filing.
Later today, I will be poised in front of the television. The Diamondbacks will be playing. I will have my two-hole punch, my portable filing cabinets and my labels ready to slap on to any file that needs one. Right now, I am just psyching myself up for the task at hand.
Mount Thisneedstobefiled is an ongoing saga. CPA says I have to save everything for a period of time. This period of time depends upon whether the IRS is involved or not. For example, bank statements are saved longer than paid mortgage statements. But they are both stored at my home. Every month I send Bliz (who lives in another state), all of my bills. Sometimes I fax them. Sometimes I scan them. Scanning and faxing bring their own user-competency technology challenges, which are too long and complicated for this post. It boils down to this: mailing her everything is easier. And less frustrating.
Bliz in turn does her magic and then sends it all back to me. I don't ask her to send the tons of paper back my way. She just figures it is her obligation to her office's storage capacity and sanity as well as her responsibility to me to dump it back on my lap....er, I mean return my possessions. I love that about her. She is so darned efficient. This is one area where I wish she would lax a bit. Keep my papers. Please!
My standard operating procedure is to take the monthly tons of paid bills Bliz returns to me and shove them in my "to be filed" basket sitting on a shelf in my office. My hope it to ignore it long enough that the papers file themselves. Instead what happens is that the papers in the basket end up spilling on to my desk, commingling with the other projects that were minding their own business. Once this happens all hell breaks loose and I can't find anything. I think the paper starts reproducing when I am not looking. But I can't be sure.
The other day, I opted to fax to Bliz (for the record, it took two attempts). A rare occurrence because of the aforementioned user/technology issues. Afterwards, I called Bliz and asked her if I faxed her a particular bill. She said yes. However, that particular item was sitting far away from everything else I had just faxed her. The rest of the pile was in my to be filed box.
Filing has always been my challenge. Years ago, I hired sweet young woman to help me with this. Unfortunately, she wasn't much of a filing clerk. I am still finding surprises--like a deed for one of my homes filed with bank statements. I have toyed with asking one of the neighborhood teenagers if they wanted to make a bit of money, but I really don't want the neighbors to know this much about my business. Every year, my CPA suggests I hire my children to help with the filing. My kids are in second grade and kindergarten. A very long time ago, my pedantically tidy husband offered to take over the filing. However, he swears that never happened and he denies saying it. For the record, I know he did. I just wish I had gotten it in writing. For now, I am filing.
Later today, I will be poised in front of the television. The Diamondbacks will be playing. I will have my two-hole punch, my portable filing cabinets and my labels ready to slap on to any file that needs one. Right now, I am just psyching myself up for the task at hand.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Who Needs Drama When You Can Manage Rental Homes?
I recently told Legal Eagle that I am not into drama. But then again, I have this blog, don't I? The blog is therapy because managing rental homes alone provides enough drama to go around.
There is having to be involved--even circumspectly--in the lives of the people who live in your homes. Mrs. 508 is pregnant. Mr. 1609 has a new job. Mr. 1027's grandmother had a stroke and moved in with them. Whether I want to know or not, many of the decisions in their lives affect me and my ability to pay their mortgage.
There are the bad times. Like evicting people. Though, I am learning to disseminate my imagination from reality. The reality is seldom worse than my imagination. But not always.
Earlier this year I made a decision to get rid of all my troubled tenants. This was logic, not drama. However this choice has turned into more drama than one could imagine. Some of these deadbeats needed to go because they had been limping along, paying only when necessary.
In Wayward's case, I readily admit was looking for the first excuse I could to get rid of her. She paid late every month. Always. She didn't return calls. She didn't reply to e-mails. Short of flying to Birmingham every month and pounding on her door, there was no good way to contact her. I don't like this game. And, anyone who makes me play it, isn't someone I want to know.
I knew Mr. Smith would be following soon after. I was (am) looking forward to him leaving just as much as I did with Wayward. In his case, I figured he has a home that will be harder to rent. His mortgage is smaller and there are bigger issues. He got slid to the bottom of my to-do list.
Wayward and Mr. Smith aren't the only ones. They are the most interesting. But, they don't really make for much drama. They do what they are going to do. Mostly my imagination brings out the rest. For example, there is no drama in Wayward ignoring me. She was just is avoiding me. The insurance adjuster was much more irritating than Wayward ever was.
There are the tenants who leave because they have to. This year, I had three who left for reasons of their own. I certainly didn't plan for this. I wasn't prepared for life to step in and add to my challenges. We call this in Landlordland "a bump in the road."
There are repairs and maintenance. I just got a bill from the electrician for a repair he made last week. There is the furnace added to one of my homes. There is lawn maintenance. There is finding quality repairmen (who don't have attitude problems) to fix minor issues. Like a backdoor that won't open or close. Like a bedroom where the wiring suddenly stopped working.
I don't live for the drama. I don't need to. There is plenty of it without my help.
There is having to be involved--even circumspectly--in the lives of the people who live in your homes. Mrs. 508 is pregnant. Mr. 1609 has a new job. Mr. 1027's grandmother had a stroke and moved in with them. Whether I want to know or not, many of the decisions in their lives affect me and my ability to pay their mortgage.
There are the bad times. Like evicting people. Though, I am learning to disseminate my imagination from reality. The reality is seldom worse than my imagination. But not always.
Earlier this year I made a decision to get rid of all my troubled tenants. This was logic, not drama. However this choice has turned into more drama than one could imagine. Some of these deadbeats needed to go because they had been limping along, paying only when necessary.
In Wayward's case, I readily admit was looking for the first excuse I could to get rid of her. She paid late every month. Always. She didn't return calls. She didn't reply to e-mails. Short of flying to Birmingham every month and pounding on her door, there was no good way to contact her. I don't like this game. And, anyone who makes me play it, isn't someone I want to know.
I knew Mr. Smith would be following soon after. I was (am) looking forward to him leaving just as much as I did with Wayward. In his case, I figured he has a home that will be harder to rent. His mortgage is smaller and there are bigger issues. He got slid to the bottom of my to-do list.
Wayward and Mr. Smith aren't the only ones. They are the most interesting. But, they don't really make for much drama. They do what they are going to do. Mostly my imagination brings out the rest. For example, there is no drama in Wayward ignoring me. She was just is avoiding me. The insurance adjuster was much more irritating than Wayward ever was.
There are the tenants who leave because they have to. This year, I had three who left for reasons of their own. I certainly didn't plan for this. I wasn't prepared for life to step in and add to my challenges. We call this in Landlordland "a bump in the road."
There are repairs and maintenance. I just got a bill from the electrician for a repair he made last week. There is the furnace added to one of my homes. There is lawn maintenance. There is finding quality repairmen (who don't have attitude problems) to fix minor issues. Like a backdoor that won't open or close. Like a bedroom where the wiring suddenly stopped working.
I don't live for the drama. I don't need to. There is plenty of it without my help.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
There's Two Days He Can't Get Back
One of the houses we have has a loan in my partner's name. This normally isn't a big deal, as my partner just gives the bank permission to talk to me and Bliz the Bookkeeper. However, with this particular loan, my partner somehow didn't want to grant permission for us. I kept the very long, drawn-out e-mail he wrote months ago explaining why this is the case. I am sure this long drawn-out e-mail really made sense to him, but what I read into is was: "I don't wanna, and I am not gonna."
Fair enough. Normally, it has no bearing on my life. I get the mortgage statement, pass it on to Bliz and we are all happy. Except, for whatever reason this mortgage company didn't pay the home owner's insurance. The cancellation notice came to my partner and he sent it immediately to me demanding an explanation.
My partner has many great qualities. However, patience for past due bills isn't one of them. I can relate. It isn't one of my strongest traits either. Because this was news to all of us that the insurance wasn't paid, there was some digging to do. Fortunately for me it was digging he had to do.
On Monday, I e-mailed my partner, telling him I needed his help. I put my note on the carefully saved e-mail he had sent months ago. And, I explained how I appreciated his right to privacy and his hesitancy to allow anyone access to this account. Therefore, would he kindly call the mortgage company to see what was going on?
If you really want the subtext it was: Hey Partner! I need you to spend half your day on the phone, being transferred to people who have no clue to ask you stupid questions. They will then tell you to dial another number, allow you to talk to someone with negative IQ points. That person will put you on hold for an hour. Then, they will finally get back to you and make you start the entire process over again.
Today my partner called to tell me he spent two days rectifying the mortgage company's mistake. And yes, it was the mortgage company’s fault (explanation: they “forgot” to pay the insurance). During his call today, Partner complained at the amount of time it took to rectify this. "You wouldn't believe how much time I wasted on this," he said with a tremendous amount of justifiable irritation.
Yes. I would. Multiply it by a lot more houses and you have a day in my life.
Fair enough. Normally, it has no bearing on my life. I get the mortgage statement, pass it on to Bliz and we are all happy. Except, for whatever reason this mortgage company didn't pay the home owner's insurance. The cancellation notice came to my partner and he sent it immediately to me demanding an explanation.
My partner has many great qualities. However, patience for past due bills isn't one of them. I can relate. It isn't one of my strongest traits either. Because this was news to all of us that the insurance wasn't paid, there was some digging to do. Fortunately for me it was digging he had to do.
On Monday, I e-mailed my partner, telling him I needed his help. I put my note on the carefully saved e-mail he had sent months ago. And, I explained how I appreciated his right to privacy and his hesitancy to allow anyone access to this account. Therefore, would he kindly call the mortgage company to see what was going on?
If you really want the subtext it was: Hey Partner! I need you to spend half your day on the phone, being transferred to people who have no clue to ask you stupid questions. They will then tell you to dial another number, allow you to talk to someone with negative IQ points. That person will put you on hold for an hour. Then, they will finally get back to you and make you start the entire process over again.
Today my partner called to tell me he spent two days rectifying the mortgage company's mistake. And yes, it was the mortgage company’s fault (explanation: they “forgot” to pay the insurance). During his call today, Partner complained at the amount of time it took to rectify this. "You wouldn't believe how much time I wasted on this," he said with a tremendous amount of justifiable irritation.
Yes. I would. Multiply it by a lot more houses and you have a day in my life.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
When One Door Closes Another Door... Well, You Get The Idea
Remember my house in Leeds? I have a contract on it. I am not convinced the contract will go through. The buyer is questionable. She is squeezing every penny she can out of the seller down payment/closing cost assistance program. I will walk away with nothing but the end of this nightmare of a house in Leeds--which I have been advised by Legal Eagle not to blog about.
The contract should be executed by September 30--just two weeks from now. So, if it can go through, my life will be better off. Even though no money will be made. My sanity will be that much more intact. If it doesn't go through, I will deal with it then.
That said, before I got the purchase contract, I listed it for rent in last Sunday's Birmingham News. In the last three days, my phone hasn't stopped ringing. Though I can no longer rent it out, I can do something just as productive. If I am unable to rent out this house in Leeds, why not just tell the callers about the other two homes I have coming available? (The two potential tenants for Wayward's home have fallen through because Alpha and Alpha Boss took so long.)
This new hobby has brought me tremendous pleasure. You see, Mr. Smith's home is about two miles away from the Leeds house. It is in a better neighborhood. A better school district. It is an up an coming area of Birmingham. And best of all, the house isn't in Leeds.
Here is where my sick enjoyment comes in. Mr. Smith knows I have a group of people who drive by deadbeat's homes, looking to see if they have moved on. In Mr. Smith's case, I don't. I gave it up. I figured he wasn't leaving, so I stopped asking my forces from filling up at $3.75 a gallon and doing this. But, Mr. Smith doesn't know it.
However, when I tell callers about Mr. Smith's soon to be vacant home, I give them the address and invite them to drive by. Now, in all fairness, I explain that I request they respect the tenants' privacy, as this is a difficult time for this family. But, feel free to drive by. If they need to slow down, that is fine. But, please do not talk to anyone in the neighborhood, get out of the car or trespass. I don't explain I am evicting their sorry thieving asses. But, I leave that open to interpretation.
So far, I have three people who have expressed an interest in being informed when when Mr. Smith leaves. Getting this place turned around quickly will be a nice reward.
The contract should be executed by September 30--just two weeks from now. So, if it can go through, my life will be better off. Even though no money will be made. My sanity will be that much more intact. If it doesn't go through, I will deal with it then.
That said, before I got the purchase contract, I listed it for rent in last Sunday's Birmingham News. In the last three days, my phone hasn't stopped ringing. Though I can no longer rent it out, I can do something just as productive. If I am unable to rent out this house in Leeds, why not just tell the callers about the other two homes I have coming available? (The two potential tenants for Wayward's home have fallen through because Alpha and Alpha Boss took so long.)
This new hobby has brought me tremendous pleasure. You see, Mr. Smith's home is about two miles away from the Leeds house. It is in a better neighborhood. A better school district. It is an up an coming area of Birmingham. And best of all, the house isn't in Leeds.
Here is where my sick enjoyment comes in. Mr. Smith knows I have a group of people who drive by deadbeat's homes, looking to see if they have moved on. In Mr. Smith's case, I don't. I gave it up. I figured he wasn't leaving, so I stopped asking my forces from filling up at $3.75 a gallon and doing this. But, Mr. Smith doesn't know it.
However, when I tell callers about Mr. Smith's soon to be vacant home, I give them the address and invite them to drive by. Now, in all fairness, I explain that I request they respect the tenants' privacy, as this is a difficult time for this family. But, feel free to drive by. If they need to slow down, that is fine. But, please do not talk to anyone in the neighborhood, get out of the car or trespass. I don't explain I am evicting their sorry thieving asses. But, I leave that open to interpretation.
So far, I have three people who have expressed an interest in being informed when when Mr. Smith leaves. Getting this place turned around quickly will be a nice reward.
Monday, September 15, 2008
They're Baaack
I got a phone call today from David. David was interested in learning more about my home in Leeds. You see, he lives in Trussville, his landlord was in foreclosure and he and his family need a home asap.
Me: "Sir, I believe I spoke with your wife last week."
David: "No ma'am. This is the first house I have called. We just found out about this over the weekend."
I would stand corrected. Except, I recognized the phone number and rolled my eyes as I went to answer this call, mentally preparing myself to deal with Christy/Karen. Instead, I was naively explaining to David that yes, Carolsue had shown him, Christy and Karen this house. David argued I was incorrect, swearing he had never seen it. Why did I recognize the phone number? Because the prefix is the same as my own. And the suffix is my PIN number. I even double checked the number when was done with the call. Yep. It was them.
But, back to David. This dialogue went on for a moment or two, as I politely explained his oversight. He had seen this house. His wife had seen this house. His mother had seen this house. Undeterred, David wanted the address and the contact information of how he could see the inside.
I finally went with the blunt approach. "The same woman who showed you the home before will show it to you again. Also before we go any further with this process, I will need to send you an application so I can do a background/criminal/eviction check. When you fill out the application, please send back a photo ID and proof of employment."
At that point, David decided maybe he had been looking before today. And, you know, he might remember seeing my house last week.
Me: "Sir, I believe I spoke with your wife last week."
David: "No ma'am. This is the first house I have called. We just found out about this over the weekend."
I would stand corrected. Except, I recognized the phone number and rolled my eyes as I went to answer this call, mentally preparing myself to deal with Christy/Karen. Instead, I was naively explaining to David that yes, Carolsue had shown him, Christy and Karen this house. David argued I was incorrect, swearing he had never seen it. Why did I recognize the phone number? Because the prefix is the same as my own. And the suffix is my PIN number. I even double checked the number when was done with the call. Yep. It was them.
But, back to David. This dialogue went on for a moment or two, as I politely explained his oversight. He had seen this house. His wife had seen this house. His mother had seen this house. Undeterred, David wanted the address and the contact information of how he could see the inside.
I finally went with the blunt approach. "The same woman who showed you the home before will show it to you again. Also before we go any further with this process, I will need to send you an application so I can do a background/criminal/eviction check. When you fill out the application, please send back a photo ID and proof of employment."
At that point, David decided maybe he had been looking before today. And, you know, he might remember seeing my house last week.
Friday, September 12, 2008
First Things First
I woke up this morning and had this overwhelming urge to say a prayer for Mr. Smith and his family. You see, it must be very stressful to be Mr. and Mrs. Smith. They have lost their home. They have a huge financial burden they cannot easily overcome and they have to swim in own stupidity.
Truthfully, the kids are the ones I really feel for. They are victims of their parents poor choices. They are too young to understand the stresses going on with thier mother and father loosing their home. But, it is now part of their young lives. This isn't a burden I wish for any child.
Coincidentally, Mr. Smith sent me an e-mail today. The last one was from early August and said something very flattering. This one was long-winded, but essentially just said they would be out "by the first." There was a ton of drama with it too. Somehow the hurricane season was to blame for them needing the extra time to move out. I don't know if his e-mail meant he would be leaving October 1, 2008, the first August it snows Phoenix or the first of the next millennium. I don't really care. I am not taking a dip in the Mr. Smith stupid pool, by writing him back, to find out either.
Unbeknownst to Mr. Smith, I sent Legal Eagle a note yesterday asking if our legal wait time was up and we could proceed with the eviction process. Our 30 day time window ends Monday, Sept. 15. (Note: if you have been following this, you might wonder why this wasn't taken care of Aug. 1. It is because nothing happens according to the Roman calendar in the South--which you also know if you have been following this.).
I am looking forward to Monday. It will be the beginning of the end. If the courts don't screw up and Mr. Smith is really motivated to leave, perhaps this will all be wrapped up by October 1. Even if that wasn't really his intention in the first place.
Truthfully, the kids are the ones I really feel for. They are victims of their parents poor choices. They are too young to understand the stresses going on with thier mother and father loosing their home. But, it is now part of their young lives. This isn't a burden I wish for any child.
Coincidentally, Mr. Smith sent me an e-mail today. The last one was from early August and said something very flattering. This one was long-winded, but essentially just said they would be out "by the first." There was a ton of drama with it too. Somehow the hurricane season was to blame for them needing the extra time to move out. I don't know if his e-mail meant he would be leaving October 1, 2008, the first August it snows Phoenix or the first of the next millennium. I don't really care. I am not taking a dip in the Mr. Smith stupid pool, by writing him back, to find out either.
Unbeknownst to Mr. Smith, I sent Legal Eagle a note yesterday asking if our legal wait time was up and we could proceed with the eviction process. Our 30 day time window ends Monday, Sept. 15. (Note: if you have been following this, you might wonder why this wasn't taken care of Aug. 1. It is because nothing happens according to the Roman calendar in the South--which you also know if you have been following this.).
I am looking forward to Monday. It will be the beginning of the end. If the courts don't screw up and Mr. Smith is really motivated to leave, perhaps this will all be wrapped up by October 1. Even if that wasn't really his intention in the first place.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Mr. Who?
Apparently telling Mr. Thomas that following an application protocol to rent a home was just too much for him. After dealing with an insurance adjuster for six maddening weeks, I happen to know they are used to filling out forms in triplicate. So, one silly little application shouldn't have been too much to ask.
I haven't heard from Mr. Thomas. I suspect he probably contacted several unsuspecting landlords with the same story, all asking them to divvy the money between themselves and some operative... er, I mean interior decorator.
I haven't heard from Mr. Thomas. I suspect he probably contacted several unsuspecting landlords with the same story, all asking them to divvy the money between themselves and some operative... er, I mean interior decorator.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Something is Rotten in the State of Denmark... Er, Britian
My apologies to Shakespeare. But, this latest episode just isn't passing my smell test.
Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from Mr. Thomas. He wanted to rent the home in Leeds. I gave him the standard, drive by and tell me if you want to call Carolsue e-mail response.
Monday I received another e-mail from Mr. Thomas. He lives in England. He is moving to the US on behalf of his company. He wanted the deposits broken down and wanted to know what he was responsible for. He wanted interior pictures.
I gave Mr. Thomas an application, broke down the deposits for him and told him the only photos I had were the ones he saw on Craig's List. I also told him he would need to give me proof he was able to work in the US.
I don't really get the whole "transferring to Birmingham Alabama" thing. Personally, I don't see what Birmingham has to offer as far as a great international employment destination. I happen to like Birmingham. I like the people. I like the city. I like the tourist destinations. I like the hiking (Check out Oak Mountain!). They have the basics for shopping (Costco). The traffic isn't that terrible--though the locals disagree with me on this point. I looked up his company. They have a location in the metro New Jersey area and San Diego. Now I am even more confused about the Birmingham connection.
Mr. Thomas e-mailed me again today. He said:
Mr. Thomas also told me he was an insurance claims adjuster (insert groan here). A Christian. A family man, married to a "lovely woman" and had a young daughter who would both be staying in the UK. He told me he was "reserved in Nature" and was a non-smoker and didn't keep pets. He is perfect tenant material with the exception of a few minor issues--like his inability to fill out a simple form.
Next, let me get this straight: an interior decorator? For a house in Leeds? Leeds Alabama? And, I am to take this money and divvy it between this interior decorator and myself? I understand Mr. Thomas doesn't know the logistics on my end. But, certainly, there seems to be some level of common sense that if he can get one check--for my deposits--that he surly can get two. One for me and one for the interior decorator. His company he says he works for is a very large insurance company. They can handle cutting two checks.
If he works for this large insurance company which has international offices, why do they not have a relocation person handling Mr. Thomas' move? Why is Mr. Thomas doing this by himself? Why have they not sent him out to look over the area? Why is he moving overseas for a year without his family? Why is he unwilling to show me a letter from his company proving they are moving him and guaranteeing his income?
All that aside. Let's assume for a moment, Mr. Thomas is legitimate. He still hasn't proven to me I want to rent to him. I don't know a thing about him. I appreciate he wants to live in my home. But, it all ties back to that application. Fill it out. Surly he can fax it or scan it back to me. Which brings me to my final question. If this guy works as an insurance adjuster why is he resisting filling out some basic paperwork?
Nope, something doesn't smell right.
Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from Mr. Thomas. He wanted to rent the home in Leeds. I gave him the standard, drive by and tell me if you want to call Carolsue e-mail response.
Monday I received another e-mail from Mr. Thomas. He lives in England. He is moving to the US on behalf of his company. He wanted the deposits broken down and wanted to know what he was responsible for. He wanted interior pictures.
I gave Mr. Thomas an application, broke down the deposits for him and told him the only photos I had were the ones he saw on Craig's List. I also told him he would need to give me proof he was able to work in the US.
I don't really get the whole "transferring to Birmingham Alabama" thing. Personally, I don't see what Birmingham has to offer as far as a great international employment destination. I happen to like Birmingham. I like the people. I like the city. I like the tourist destinations. I like the hiking (Check out Oak Mountain!). They have the basics for shopping (Costco). The traffic isn't that terrible--though the locals disagree with me on this point. I looked up his company. They have a location in the metro New Jersey area and San Diego. Now I am even more confused about the Birmingham connection.
Mr. Thomas e-mailed me again today. He said:
Thanks for the details on the apartment, i am satisfied and will like to go ahead with the renting process, i will like you to go ahead and reserve the apartment for me. I want the 1 year lease to start on the 25th Sept. 2008, i will also want to notify you that i have in the mean time arrange with an interior decorator who will be handling the purchase of furnitures,entertainment system and other appliances that i will need in the property,they will as well be incharge of moving down my luggages down to the states. So the check of $4700 will be sent over to you which is a relocation grant by my employer, and all you need to do is deduct the deposit $2000 and you will forward the rest to the Decorators so i can have the place all prepared for my arrival. I look forward to meeting you and hope to have a good relationship as a tenant with you.Mr. Thomas hasn't sent back the application. Which I told him today would be the first step. I thanked him for his enthusiasm. But, pesky little administrative tasks still need to be handled. Like proving to me this isn't one of those Nigerian (British) money laundering schemes. Or, like this guy is legitimately who he says he is. And, I do need to verify his ability to work in the United States--like, say... a work Visa? I really don't need someone renting a home from me with no practical means of income.
Mr. Thomas also told me he was an insurance claims adjuster (insert groan here). A Christian. A family man, married to a "lovely woman" and had a young daughter who would both be staying in the UK. He told me he was "reserved in Nature" and was a non-smoker and didn't keep pets. He is perfect tenant material with the exception of a few minor issues--like his inability to fill out a simple form.
Next, let me get this straight: an interior decorator? For a house in Leeds? Leeds Alabama? And, I am to take this money and divvy it between this interior decorator and myself? I understand Mr. Thomas doesn't know the logistics on my end. But, certainly, there seems to be some level of common sense that if he can get one check--for my deposits--that he surly can get two. One for me and one for the interior decorator. His company he says he works for is a very large insurance company. They can handle cutting two checks.
If he works for this large insurance company which has international offices, why do they not have a relocation person handling Mr. Thomas' move? Why is Mr. Thomas doing this by himself? Why have they not sent him out to look over the area? Why is he moving overseas for a year without his family? Why is he unwilling to show me a letter from his company proving they are moving him and guaranteeing his income?
All that aside. Let's assume for a moment, Mr. Thomas is legitimate. He still hasn't proven to me I want to rent to him. I don't know a thing about him. I appreciate he wants to live in my home. But, it all ties back to that application. Fill it out. Surly he can fax it or scan it back to me. Which brings me to my final question. If this guy works as an insurance adjuster why is he resisting filling out some basic paperwork?
Nope, something doesn't smell right.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Yea, Right...
I hadn't heard from Christy. Until today. And, technically, I didn't hear from her today either. I heard from Karen.
Karen left a message for me, informing me she and I spoke "extensively" last week about my vacant home. In her message, Karen told me they would be "scraping" the deposit together and should have it next week. She actually said "scraping"! She then proceeded to tell me they would be ready to move in immediately after that.
Here's a tip on how to impress a landlord: don't use the word "scraping" when referring to deposits or rent.
I am so glad I got Karen's message as a voice mail. I am even more thankful that when I called back I got Karen's/Christy's answering machine. I left a message stating if they were indeed that interested, I would be happy to get an application to them as soon as possible. I would also need the application fee before I ran the checking credit, criminal background and eviction history. I would also need two pay stubs so I could verify employment. I explained these were just part of the standard rental proceedures. And, as I was sure they were aware, this was just a simple administrative matter.
Karen called back, admitting she never spoke with me. Instead, it was her daughter who had called. She then told me their landlord has agreed to let them stay for a mere $300 a month.
Of course this landlord did! I believe this. I believe in Santa too. The landlord has also found a cure for cancer, takes in stray animals and has solved the crisis in the Middle East all in the landlord's spare time. A noble woman that landlord.
At any rate, Karen asked me to call her if I didn't rent it out by the end of next month, because they will probably need it then. Sure thing. I will get right on that.
Karen left a message for me, informing me she and I spoke "extensively" last week about my vacant home. In her message, Karen told me they would be "scraping" the deposit together and should have it next week. She actually said "scraping"! She then proceeded to tell me they would be ready to move in immediately after that.
Here's a tip on how to impress a landlord: don't use the word "scraping" when referring to deposits or rent.
I am so glad I got Karen's message as a voice mail. I am even more thankful that when I called back I got Karen's/Christy's answering machine. I left a message stating if they were indeed that interested, I would be happy to get an application to them as soon as possible. I would also need the application fee before I ran the checking credit, criminal background and eviction history. I would also need two pay stubs so I could verify employment. I explained these were just part of the standard rental proceedures. And, as I was sure they were aware, this was just a simple administrative matter.
Karen called back, admitting she never spoke with me. Instead, it was her daughter who had called. She then told me their landlord has agreed to let them stay for a mere $300 a month.
Of course this landlord did! I believe this. I believe in Santa too. The landlord has also found a cure for cancer, takes in stray animals and has solved the crisis in the Middle East all in the landlord's spare time. A noble woman that landlord.
At any rate, Karen asked me to call her if I didn't rent it out by the end of next month, because they will probably need it then. Sure thing. I will get right on that.
These Rentals Practially Manage Themselves
I have a business partner. Actually, I have three. One happens to be my husband. The other two are a couple we know. Mrs. Partner is about as silent as they come. Mr. Partner asks questions and gives valuable input. He lets me manage the show.
Yesterday I sent him Lana's note. But, I realized he was completely out of context. He has no idea what goes on behind the scenes. Yes, he has a few rental homes. But, these homes are less than ten minutes from his residence and there are only three of them. I could show him this blog, but then again, there might be a time when I want to complain about him.
In the past two months I have:
· Evicted a tenant, found a beekeeper, two lawn guys, fought with an insurance adjuster and found someone to take care of the work at Wayward's home.
· Battled the IRS on our company's behalf--and won.
· Dealt with the US Bankruptcy Court regarding another tenant's Chapter 7.
· Listed and negotiated the sale of a home which didn't pan out.
· Put two homes up for rent.
· Found a tenant for one of those homes--after weeding through several looses to get to the one I picked.
· Handled repairs for an air conditioner, electrical work, plumbing and lawn care. And, that includes negotiating with these vendors for better pricing.
· Filed two separate police reports.
· Begun the eviction process of another tenant.
Yep, piece of cake.
Yesterday I sent him Lana's note. But, I realized he was completely out of context. He has no idea what goes on behind the scenes. Yes, he has a few rental homes. But, these homes are less than ten minutes from his residence and there are only three of them. I could show him this blog, but then again, there might be a time when I want to complain about him.
In the past two months I have:
· Evicted a tenant, found a beekeeper, two lawn guys, fought with an insurance adjuster and found someone to take care of the work at Wayward's home.
· Battled the IRS on our company's behalf--and won.
· Dealt with the US Bankruptcy Court regarding another tenant's Chapter 7.
· Listed and negotiated the sale of a home which didn't pan out.
· Put two homes up for rent.
· Found a tenant for one of those homes--after weeding through several looses to get to the one I picked.
· Handled repairs for an air conditioner, electrical work, plumbing and lawn care. And, that includes negotiating with these vendors for better pricing.
· Filed two separate police reports.
· Begun the eviction process of another tenant.
Yep, piece of cake.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Alpha-Boss May Kiss My Sub-Floor
Last Friday, after the most maddening phone call I had in a long time, I got angry. Alpha-Boss pushed me beyond my good nature.
Hell hath no wrath like a public relations professional scorned. I drafted a letter to the Alabama Board of Insurance and another to Alpha-Boss's home office. I bandied around phrases like "standard of care." I explained Alpha-Boss NEVER said he wouldn't cover the flooring because it wasn't an insurable item. Instead, he had magically read Wayward's mind, knowing she wanted the ugly tile underneath the former carpet as her floor covering of choice.
I kept my letter professional, steering clear of Alpha Adjuster's God Complex and other unbelievably inappropriate personality quirks. Keeping with my crusade, Legal Eagle also gave me the name of an attorney who handles this kind of nonsense. Carolsue (who also happens to be a paralegal--and worked for this guy at one time) tells me this new attorney is tough. According to Carolsue, you would rather meet God at final judgement than this dude.
This morning I called my insurance agent and discussed with her what I was planning on doing. I explained my logic: simply there was no reason not to cover the missing flooring. I was going to start with a letter writing campaign to anyone who would listen to me and see what that accomplished. If necessary, I would pay this new attorney $300 to write a letter, on his letter head, explaining why I have been damaged and how the insurance company should fix it.
In my conversation with my agent, I asked her for a reality check: was my request to have the flooring covered as part of the insurance out of line? We discussed a few other things too--like the amount of time this claim has taken and the loss of rent that has come from the ineptitude of Alpha and his boss.
In truth, by the time I had called my agent this morning, I really had given this up as a lost cause. I had been noodling whether I wanted to spend the rest of the week fighting over the cost of flooring or if I wanted to let it go. After all, I can fight over principle and just spend my money and time, gaining nothing. Or, I can just get the flooring replaced and move on.
But, before I had to make this decision, I got an e-mail from Lana. It said: I have spoken with Alpha-Boss regarding your carpet and loss of rent. They will write a supplement estimate for the carpet. If the repairs go past the month of Sept, they will pro-rate the loss of rent.
I may have lost Friday's battle. But I won this war.
Hell hath no wrath like a public relations professional scorned. I drafted a letter to the Alabama Board of Insurance and another to Alpha-Boss's home office. I bandied around phrases like "standard of care." I explained Alpha-Boss NEVER said he wouldn't cover the flooring because it wasn't an insurable item. Instead, he had magically read Wayward's mind, knowing she wanted the ugly tile underneath the former carpet as her floor covering of choice.
I kept my letter professional, steering clear of Alpha Adjuster's God Complex and other unbelievably inappropriate personality quirks. Keeping with my crusade, Legal Eagle also gave me the name of an attorney who handles this kind of nonsense. Carolsue (who also happens to be a paralegal--and worked for this guy at one time) tells me this new attorney is tough. According to Carolsue, you would rather meet God at final judgement than this dude.
This morning I called my insurance agent and discussed with her what I was planning on doing. I explained my logic: simply there was no reason not to cover the missing flooring. I was going to start with a letter writing campaign to anyone who would listen to me and see what that accomplished. If necessary, I would pay this new attorney $300 to write a letter, on his letter head, explaining why I have been damaged and how the insurance company should fix it.
In my conversation with my agent, I asked her for a reality check: was my request to have the flooring covered as part of the insurance out of line? We discussed a few other things too--like the amount of time this claim has taken and the loss of rent that has come from the ineptitude of Alpha and his boss.
In truth, by the time I had called my agent this morning, I really had given this up as a lost cause. I had been noodling whether I wanted to spend the rest of the week fighting over the cost of flooring or if I wanted to let it go. After all, I can fight over principle and just spend my money and time, gaining nothing. Or, I can just get the flooring replaced and move on.
But, before I had to make this decision, I got an e-mail from Lana. It said: I have spoken with Alpha-Boss regarding your carpet and loss of rent. They will write a supplement estimate for the carpet. If the repairs go past the month of Sept, they will pro-rate the loss of rent.
I may have lost Friday's battle. But I won this war.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Why Wouldn't She Think I Would Talk to Carolsue?
Last Thursday, I put an add on Craig's list advertising my Leeds house for rent. Thursday afternoon Christy called me. She wanted to see the house. I followed my standard procedure, take a drive by, if you like, call me and I will give you Carolsue's number.
Christy told me she lived in Trussville. I thought it odd that she would have any interest in a home in Leeds. It would be the equivalent of living in Gilbert and moving to Buckeye. Or for you St. Louis readers, living in St. Peters and moving to Florissant. Very different living styles.
Friday morning Christy called back. She loved the house, but would I lower the deposit because there seemed to be some issue with the back steps leading up to the deck. (NO!!!) And, what was Carolsue's number?
Christy called me an hour later. She hadn't heard from Carolsue. No, Carolsue works. In fact, I mentioned this during our first and second call. If she doesn't call you by Sunday, let me know. But, please give Carolsue some time to return your call.
Two hours later Christy called again and we went through the entire drill. Carolsue would NOT be calling at least until after work hours. Christy also gave me a few extra tid-bits about her life. She had a husband and two children. And, she has two cats.
Carolsue did meet Christy and her crew out at the house today. First, it isn't just Christy, a husband, two children and two cats who would be residing there. It is Christy's mother, another child, a soon to be born baby, FIVE indoor cats and two dogs residing in this 1,200 square foot home.
Christy marveled at how I taken care of the back steps so quickly (I hadn't), but lamented to Carolsue that I had agreed to let her husband do it. She also told Carolsue I had already approved her for the house. Carolsue nodded and smiled, knowing full well I have a six page application, and I do a background, criminal and credit check.
Christy also went through the home, announcing to Carolsue she would be painting the master bedroom red and black. She would be painting the front bedroom teal. She would be ripping out the shrubs in the front. I apparently had approved this.
Carolsue made polite conversation, asking what they did for a living. Every time this came up, she watched with amusement as the three adults changed the subject and scurried out of the room, looking for more things I had already approved to be remodeled.
By the time they left, not only had they been pre-approved to rent the house, but they were planning on moving in just as soon as they had the deposit money together (which apparently, they confided, is a bit of a challenge). They were already writing out their formal Thanksgiving dinner invitations, ready to invite more family and friends to cram into this tiny house with their five indoor cats and two dogs.
Before Carolsue left, she checked the house. It turns out Christy and Co., opened two windows so they could sneak back into the home. As a real estate agent, I know this trick. And, I was pleased Carolsue took the time to check for this. And, Baseball Guy is planning on going out there again tonight and tomorrow just to make sure Christy and Co. haven't moved in. And, I have already alerted the Leeds police to look for anyone lurking over there. "You mean like another lawn guy?" joked the policewoman who took my call. She knew what I meant. My tax dollars at work.
As for Christy and Co., I haven't heard from them. Which is fine by me.
Christy told me she lived in Trussville. I thought it odd that she would have any interest in a home in Leeds. It would be the equivalent of living in Gilbert and moving to Buckeye. Or for you St. Louis readers, living in St. Peters and moving to Florissant. Very different living styles.
Friday morning Christy called back. She loved the house, but would I lower the deposit because there seemed to be some issue with the back steps leading up to the deck. (NO!!!) And, what was Carolsue's number?
Christy called me an hour later. She hadn't heard from Carolsue. No, Carolsue works. In fact, I mentioned this during our first and second call. If she doesn't call you by Sunday, let me know. But, please give Carolsue some time to return your call.
Two hours later Christy called again and we went through the entire drill. Carolsue would NOT be calling at least until after work hours. Christy also gave me a few extra tid-bits about her life. She had a husband and two children. And, she has two cats.
Carolsue did meet Christy and her crew out at the house today. First, it isn't just Christy, a husband, two children and two cats who would be residing there. It is Christy's mother, another child, a soon to be born baby, FIVE indoor cats and two dogs residing in this 1,200 square foot home.
Christy marveled at how I taken care of the back steps so quickly (I hadn't), but lamented to Carolsue that I had agreed to let her husband do it. She also told Carolsue I had already approved her for the house. Carolsue nodded and smiled, knowing full well I have a six page application, and I do a background, criminal and credit check.
Christy also went through the home, announcing to Carolsue she would be painting the master bedroom red and black. She would be painting the front bedroom teal. She would be ripping out the shrubs in the front. I apparently had approved this.
Carolsue made polite conversation, asking what they did for a living. Every time this came up, she watched with amusement as the three adults changed the subject and scurried out of the room, looking for more things I had already approved to be remodeled.
By the time they left, not only had they been pre-approved to rent the house, but they were planning on moving in just as soon as they had the deposit money together (which apparently, they confided, is a bit of a challenge). They were already writing out their formal Thanksgiving dinner invitations, ready to invite more family and friends to cram into this tiny house with their five indoor cats and two dogs.
Before Carolsue left, she checked the house. It turns out Christy and Co., opened two windows so they could sneak back into the home. As a real estate agent, I know this trick. And, I was pleased Carolsue took the time to check for this. And, Baseball Guy is planning on going out there again tonight and tomorrow just to make sure Christy and Co. haven't moved in. And, I have already alerted the Leeds police to look for anyone lurking over there. "You mean like another lawn guy?" joked the policewoman who took my call. She knew what I meant. My tax dollars at work.
As for Christy and Co., I haven't heard from them. Which is fine by me.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Referals Aren't Only for HMOs
Calvin no longer mows lawns where bees may or may not be present. Carolsue didn't seem to think this was the end of the world, as she swears he doesn't do a great job anyway. Nevertheless, I still had the county's certified letter, telling me I had mere days to take care of Wayward's yard. Or else.
I called Tenant 114, who told me he wasn't willing to drive that far. Fair enough. Wayward's home is 40 miles. One way.
My next step was a blanket e-mail to several folks--mostly tenants--who might know someone. In fact, I sent my note out to about 10 people. I had a response from six of them. And, one mowed my lawn today. Just in time to spite Jefferson County's Lawn Inspection Department. But, just in case this guy doesn't meet Carolsue's minimum standards, I now have the name of five other potential lawn guys.
This is how things are done in Alabama. I marvel at how unusual and slow things are there. And, though there is nothing wrong with the way business is done there, I am used to a different level of professionalism.
In Alabama, one's reputation weighs more than a checkbook. I am more likely to get something done in Alabama because I know someone, instead of randomly calling lawn services. This is true for everything from appraisers to process servers and every profession in between.
I called Tenant 114, who told me he wasn't willing to drive that far. Fair enough. Wayward's home is 40 miles. One way.
My next step was a blanket e-mail to several folks--mostly tenants--who might know someone. In fact, I sent my note out to about 10 people. I had a response from six of them. And, one mowed my lawn today. Just in time to spite Jefferson County's Lawn Inspection Department. But, just in case this guy doesn't meet Carolsue's minimum standards, I now have the name of five other potential lawn guys.
This is how things are done in Alabama. I marvel at how unusual and slow things are there. And, though there is nothing wrong with the way business is done there, I am used to a different level of professionalism.
In Alabama, one's reputation weighs more than a checkbook. I am more likely to get something done in Alabama because I know someone, instead of randomly calling lawn services. This is true for everything from appraisers to process servers and every profession in between.
Friday, September 05, 2008
He Woke Me Up For This?
Today's frustration is brought to you by Alpha Boss. I can't think of a realistic way to describe this guy. Patronizing. Condescending? No, that isn't harsh enough. However, I already used up my daily supply of four-letter words talking to Legal Eagle today.
Alpha-Boss called me at some unholy hour this morning wanting my e-mail address. He didn't want to speak with me. He just wanted to send me photos. What is he afraid of? I am going to come through the phone lines and make his life a living nightmare? Well, I am. But, I didn't know that at the time.
Instead of giving Alpha-Boss my e-mail address, I made him tell me what he would and would not cover. After a lot of hedging, he got to the point, simply stating, "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt."
I would like to go on record right now by stating NOBODY questions my integrity. That is certainly one way to get me riled up. Another way is by not honoring your word. Alpha Boss was batting 500 today.
Alpha-Boss will cover the missing sink. He will cover the holes in the wall. He will cover the missing light fixtures. Apparently the banister is also covered.
He will NOT cover the broken garage door. That apparently is "tenant wear and tear." Huh? Someone backed into the door!
He will not cover the missing flooring. Alpha-Boss actually told me the reason he would not cover the flooring was because the tenant was--and these are his words--"making the home her own." I explained to Alpha-Boss that we have a lease. If she wanted to "make this her own" she could get a mortgage and buy the place. Then she would have the absolute right to "make it her own." But, the purpose of a lease was that she would honor my right to keep it as MY own.
At this point, Alpha-Boss suggested he was giving me the benefit of the doubt again. Yes, he made that snappy comeback twice. Gotta love originality.
I am really uncertain as to why Alpha Boss is being so stingy. After all, it isn't like he is paying this claim out of his pocket. I don't regularly go around putting in claims. I have had properties in terrible condition. But, they did not have structural damage. I just want the damage covered. And, that includes the missing flooring and the garage door.
Because I had nothing better to do, I stupidly asked why this claim has taken so long. Alpha-Boss told me he respectfully disagreed. Well, thank goodness the house didn't catch fire. Would that have also taken a month to determine they weren't going to cover the structure? I explained I have performed in less than 24 hours each time I was asked to do so. Alpha-Boss didn't really have an answer for that. But, I think he was fresh out of giving me the benefit of the doubt comebacks.
I explained that the amount of time this place has sat vacant (because of their inability to determine what damage looks like) makes the house more vulnerable. And, because there have been several burglaries for air conditioners and copper piping in that neighborhood, I am explaining my concern at their delay.
Alpha Boss said, "are you telling me you are planning on putting another claim in?" Well, that is certainly an original way of questioning my ethics.
Lana, Lana's boss and Legal Eagle are working on this now. But, because I am not done here. The Alabama Board of Insurance is going to get involved. If I have to call Alpha-Boss' boss, that will happen too.
But for now, all I can do is fume and write about this stupidity.
Alpha-Boss called me at some unholy hour this morning wanting my e-mail address. He didn't want to speak with me. He just wanted to send me photos. What is he afraid of? I am going to come through the phone lines and make his life a living nightmare? Well, I am. But, I didn't know that at the time.
Instead of giving Alpha-Boss my e-mail address, I made him tell me what he would and would not cover. After a lot of hedging, he got to the point, simply stating, "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt."
I would like to go on record right now by stating NOBODY questions my integrity. That is certainly one way to get me riled up. Another way is by not honoring your word. Alpha Boss was batting 500 today.
Alpha-Boss will cover the missing sink. He will cover the holes in the wall. He will cover the missing light fixtures. Apparently the banister is also covered.
He will NOT cover the broken garage door. That apparently is "tenant wear and tear." Huh? Someone backed into the door!
He will not cover the missing flooring. Alpha-Boss actually told me the reason he would not cover the flooring was because the tenant was--and these are his words--"making the home her own." I explained to Alpha-Boss that we have a lease. If she wanted to "make this her own" she could get a mortgage and buy the place. Then she would have the absolute right to "make it her own." But, the purpose of a lease was that she would honor my right to keep it as MY own.
At this point, Alpha-Boss suggested he was giving me the benefit of the doubt again. Yes, he made that snappy comeback twice. Gotta love originality.
I am really uncertain as to why Alpha Boss is being so stingy. After all, it isn't like he is paying this claim out of his pocket. I don't regularly go around putting in claims. I have had properties in terrible condition. But, they did not have structural damage. I just want the damage covered. And, that includes the missing flooring and the garage door.
Because I had nothing better to do, I stupidly asked why this claim has taken so long. Alpha-Boss told me he respectfully disagreed. Well, thank goodness the house didn't catch fire. Would that have also taken a month to determine they weren't going to cover the structure? I explained I have performed in less than 24 hours each time I was asked to do so. Alpha-Boss didn't really have an answer for that. But, I think he was fresh out of giving me the benefit of the doubt comebacks.
I explained that the amount of time this place has sat vacant (because of their inability to determine what damage looks like) makes the house more vulnerable. And, because there have been several burglaries for air conditioners and copper piping in that neighborhood, I am explaining my concern at their delay.
Alpha Boss said, "are you telling me you are planning on putting another claim in?" Well, that is certainly an original way of questioning my ethics.
Lana, Lana's boss and Legal Eagle are working on this now. But, because I am not done here. The Alabama Board of Insurance is going to get involved. If I have to call Alpha-Boss' boss, that will happen too.
But for now, all I can do is fume and write about this stupidity.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
For Sale
I woke up this morning to an offer waiting on my fax machine for my current vacant home. The earnest money was only $250. The buyer wanted us to contribute more than $10,000 in closing costs and down payment assistance. This wouldn't be too bad if the offer hadn't been ridiculously low.
As a real estate agent, I refuse to be insulted by some buyer's assessment of value. They are entitled to their opinion, and I don't have to sell my home at their price.
The deal died a quick painful death. Apparently, anything less than us being absolutely charitable wasn't going to get this house sold. Sigh... Time to get it rented out.
As a real estate agent, I refuse to be insulted by some buyer's assessment of value. They are entitled to their opinion, and I don't have to sell my home at their price.
The deal died a quick painful death. Apparently, anything less than us being absolutely charitable wasn't going to get this house sold. Sigh... Time to get it rented out.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Take a Number
Mr. Smith and his nasty little ways really got to me this weekend. I have no idea what he is doing to my home. So, I let my imagination run wild, thinking the worst. Looking back, I have to wonder why I wasted my time thinking about him. What can I do if he has ripped a hole in the wall? Fix it. It isn't like I haven't done that before.
One of my biggest concerns about Mr. Smith's home is that it will be more of a challenge to rent out. I am fully aware it is one of the reasons Mr. Smith got breaks. I know finding another renter for this home might be a challenge. Of course, that is the fear talking.
I was fretting to my husband about this when he let out a belly laugh. "You always have people lining up to rent from you."
"I do?"
"How many people want Wayward's former home?" He asked.
He is right. I have two applications on it. Both haven't stepped foot in the interior and know they won't be able to until the place is fixed up. Both have driven by, seen a jungle of a yard and a broken garage door. If they have looked in the windows, they have seen a missing kitchen sink. And yet, they want the house.
Right after my husband mentioned this, I checked my e-mail. In there was a note from some perfect stranger, who heard about me from someone I have never heard of. Did I have any vacant homes she could rent? She needs to move right away. I do have one available. And, there is Mr. Smith's home if "right away" means in the next month or two. Mr. Smith's home is in a very good school district. And, she can always toss her hat into the ring for Wayward's.
One of my biggest concerns about Mr. Smith's home is that it will be more of a challenge to rent out. I am fully aware it is one of the reasons Mr. Smith got breaks. I know finding another renter for this home might be a challenge. Of course, that is the fear talking.
I was fretting to my husband about this when he let out a belly laugh. "You always have people lining up to rent from you."
"I do?"
"How many people want Wayward's former home?" He asked.
He is right. I have two applications on it. Both haven't stepped foot in the interior and know they won't be able to until the place is fixed up. Both have driven by, seen a jungle of a yard and a broken garage door. If they have looked in the windows, they have seen a missing kitchen sink. And yet, they want the house.
Right after my husband mentioned this, I checked my e-mail. In there was a note from some perfect stranger, who heard about me from someone I have never heard of. Did I have any vacant homes she could rent? She needs to move right away. I do have one available. And, there is Mr. Smith's home if "right away" means in the next month or two. Mr. Smith's home is in a very good school district. And, she can always toss her hat into the ring for Wayward's.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)