Random Bama

Carolsue sent me an e-mail Sunday with "CATASTROPHE" in the headline. Carolsue has a warped sense of humor. _________________________________________

Ms. Betty emailed me today with a prayer request. It had been six days since I heard from her last. _________________________________________

I have a vacant home and I am reluctant to advertise it until I know what condition it is in. But I don't want to keep it vacant any longer than necessary. _________________________________________

I am setting up my trip to Birmingham. I set up an appointment with an investment lender. He said that currently all of his clients are investors from Arizona. HUH? Attention Arizona investors: go invest in South Carolina and leave Birmingham to me. I was here first. This is my turf. _________________________________________

I asked Legal Eagle and Carolsue if they knew anyone marginally scary looking to go with me to inspect the property that I currently can't blog about. Carolsue, of course, had a few names for me.

One Conversation I Can't Take Back

Mr. Richards: I know you are a good woman. I want to make this right.

Me: You are right. I am a good woman. I haven't strangled you yet.

To Stay or Not To Stay? That is the Question

At 5:36 A.M. Friday my phone rang with a text message. In the only coherent note I have ever received from Mrs. Martin, she asked for an extension to her move out date to June 5. Why? Because it was the last day of school.

Isn't the real question will she leave June 5 if I grant her the extension? Good grief! Why does she need to celebrate her child's last day of school in the same home? Is she going to feel the need to celebrate Arbor Day or Boxing Day there too?

I really feel like I should be deeply offended she even asked. But right now I can't seem to muster up the gall. I am settling for pretty annoyed. But as Marty Sunshine pointed out, June 5 is a lot sooner than waiting for the courts to do their magic.

The way I figure it, I could say no and Mrs. Martin would stay anyway. After all, I can't physically go over and remove her--even if I was there. I could say yes and she would still stay. I have no assurances she will actually leave on June 5--a Friday, a work day.

Legal Eagle said: "Let her stay, build a little good will and hopefully she won’t quit her job so we can garnish her!"

Instead, I went to Mrs. Martin with this: "I am coming in town. When I show up, there better be a clean, empty home."

Today's Potential Tenant Etiquette Tip

As a general rule, if you would like to make a good impression with your potential landlord, it is a good idea not to start the conversation by mentioning you haven't made a mortgage payment in a while and your company is cutting back your hours.

But that is just me.

The Cost of A Quick Phone Call

For the past week, I have kept up the chore of cleaning up the bits of cerebellum left over from my daily head explosion. This is directly due to the pending real estate transaction I am working on. Actually it can be completely attributed to the loan officer and his inability to call or e-mail once a day, keeping us apprised.

Isn't it amazing the number of times in our lives a simple phone call can make or break a relationship? I have a tenant who is on a widow's pension and social security. She is never late until this month. Because this is so unusual, last week I called her. Last week I also e-mailed her. She didn't contact me back. Instead she ignored me, probably putting her head in the sand, knowing what I was looking for.

After not hearing anything from her, Carolsue volunteered to call her before she went out there and handed her a lease termination notice. Apparently Carolsue's method worked. My tenant e-mailed me.

Her note was simple. Oops, something happened this month and here is how she is planning on making good.

It isn't that I wouldn't have worked with her had she told me this upfront. I would have been happy to oblige. I understand her situation. She has a steady income that will not be going away any time soon. She also doesn't have the money to move, so she and I are stuck for the time being. Theoretically, she is motivated to make this right. Given her background, I suspect I will see the money.

By not telling me when her situation changed and making me hunt her down is downright insulting. By the way, I did write her back. I let her know that I will work with those who keep an open lines of communication. And, it was a good thing I heard from her when I did, because I was about to have her evicted, which would have been an additional cost to her.

I am not sure she completely grasps what intrinsic damage she has caused. She has changed this relationship. By not contacting me immediately, she set herself up for no future favors. I won't consider going to any extra effort for minor repairs. Don't ask me for a reference to the local Rent-To-Own shop. And, don't expect I will be so gracious next time. And, all it would have taken was a quick phone call from her a couple of weeks ago.

Oh Please! Let There Be Light

There are very few things that could possibly make my head pound more than my current real estate transaction. Turning on the utilities to my vacant home is probably the closest. Maybe.

Now that Bliz has found better opportunities than staring at my financials full time, I am forced to take on some of her tasks (given to her by me). Granted Bliz is still working for me, but she is just not making it my priority. Darn her.

One of the tasks I took back from her was getting the power and water turned on at my vacant properties. How hard could it be? You fill out a form and the power/water/gas is magically turned on by the date I requested. Or at least that is what I thought happens.

It turns out, it is harder than it looks. There is more to it. A lot more. For example, nowhere on the Birmingham Water Works Web site does it give me a way to turn on water to my home, but their telephony system says to access their Web site for "faster service." I did find out--also through their telephony system the Birmingham Water Works is one of the "Top Five Water Systems in the Country." How nice.

I also did e-mail Birmingham Water Works and ask if I could turn the water on via the Internet. Every time I pushed the send button on my request, the Web page kept timing out. By the way, according to their site, the Birmingham Water Works is "considered to be the best tasting water in the South." I would say that too if I were afraid I wouldn't have water service.

After six years on hold, I finally talked to a live person. According to Diane, the world's most wicked customer service employee, I have a balance due. News to me. I am happy to pay the balance. But Diane couldn't help me. Nor would she let me turn on the water until my account is current.

Instead she told me she would be transferring me to a computer that would make me retype my account information three times before actually granting me my wish. Oh, before she transferred me, Diane chided, telling me if I had paid my bill when I was supposed to she could have helped me faster. I explained I never got a bill. Diane said, this wasn't her problem.

Note to Diane at Birmingham Water Works: I hope you get a flat tire. In the pouring rain.

Then there was Alabama Power's nonsense. After inputting several variations of the user name and password standards Bliz and I use, I was no closer to turning on the power than when I started. At one point, Alabama Power's Web site asked for the name of my dog before they would let me continue. However, I don't have a dog. I tried the name of Bliz's dog, along with a few alternative spellings, in case Fido is really spelled Phido, Fydo or Phydeau. No luck.

Finally I texted Bliz at her new job begging for help. Bliz offered her guidance but no concrete answers. I generally appreciate the zen-like atta-girl approach Bliz has towards my dilemmas, but not today. Today I wanted her to handle this. Or, at least by Friday.

They Can Run, But They Can't Hide

It really isn't fair to say I seek revenge on those who take advantage of my good nature. It is probably much closer to accurate to say I don't forget when I am wronged. Last year one of my tenants left me a huge mess and a owed me a lot of money. Of course, she preferred to disappear, figuring I would do the same.

Instead, attorney Mr. D. has been holding on to her file. At first he couldn't find her, and told me he would revisit this when I could give him something more concrete. You may translate that to: when I found her. No worries. I was up for the challenge. I have been biding my time, waiting patiently for her to show up.

Once in a while I would hit Facebook and Twitter and see if she had a profile. I knew she had one on Linkedin, but it hadn't been updated. I also checked the church she went to, seeing if she ever got a nod in the bulletin. She did on occasion. But no phone number or other information was ever posted.

As she owes me a significant amount of money, this lurking has been worth it. The other day I googled her name to find out she got married last December. She also graciously updated her Linkedin account. I know where she lives and I know where she works.

Mr. D. has been apprised of her new status. I am giving him a chance to garnish her wages. If he doesn't want the job, I am sure Legal Eagle will be happy to do so. Either way, I will get my money.

Near or Far

People sometimes give me a raised eyebrow on the occasion when I divulge this whole rental property in Alabama thing. "Why Alabama?" They ask. Then I explain a bunch of things they really didn't want to know anyway.

I finally figured out when people say, "Why Alabama" they are really asking, "Why not somewhere closer?"

I had a bizarre epiphany this weekend with tremendous help from my cyber-friend, Happy Camper. Managing properties at any distance really doesn't matter. Problems exist whether I am here or there. You think this would have been a bit obvious, given I have done this for years and I have managed properties less than five miles from my home.

In many ways being closer might be easier. I would see first-hand if there were problems and be able to jump on them faster--if I drove by the homes. When I had rental homes in Arizona, I never drove by them. There is a lot to be said for just collecting a rent check and letting Fate take its course.

Living closer might also make it easier to cultivate some relationships with plumbers, handymen and electricians. I am certainly not going to be the one to replace a hot water heater (though I probably could). But, I have managed to develop these relationships anyway. Besides, as Marty pointed out, I wouldn't personally meet these vendors here in Phoenix either.

Living farther away allows me to put some distance between the tenant's crisis and reality. Living farther away also makes it so my tenants don't expect me to jump late Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend when the air conditioner breaks. They know there isn't much I can do from here.

In many ways, my tenants who are farther away tend to be more self-reliant than those who lived in Phoenix. My Alabama tenants know there isn't much I can do for the broken towel bar. If they want to hang their towel up, they take care of it.

Living farther away also has a mysterious factor. I am often told by tenants that when I come to town, please let them know because they want to meet me. They want a face with the name. I prefer not to personally meet tenants. I have grown to appreciate a certain degree of formality. I am a lot more scary over the phone or via e-mail than in person.

For a while now, Marty Sunshine and I have been trying to convince Mr. Partner to employ a property management company. We have also bandyied about the concept of hiring a property management company for our two homes. A property management company would find me potential renters, collect the rent, start the eviction process if necessary and coordinate all repairs. All these things I have successfully done.

Not only that, a property management company would still contact me for a decision about the renters and payment for the repairs. I would still be on the financial hook for the eviction process (and they pick the lawyer), but there would also be a middle man involved. And, the property management company doesn't have any emotional attachment to whatever my issue happens to be. So, I would be working at their pace, not mine.

Hiring a property management company always boils down to a simple question, "Will the PIA factor be less for us for the amount of money we would be spending?" I don't think so.

Warning

*** Today's Post Has Nothing to do With Starting an Accidental Business in Alabama ***

Now that you have been warned, if you don't feel like reading along today, I certainly understand.

I have gotten several questions in the past few months about the pseudonyms on my site. As most of you know, my name isn't Fiona Dragon.

Fiona Dragon is a fictional character I made up to help teach my overly sensitive and highly-spirited daughter to read. As she wasn't willing to put any effort into reading for me, Fiona--grumpy and bumbling--would show up once in a while and threaten to eat Polly for breakfast if she didn't read something. Anything.

My daughter loved the concept. It stuck and evolved into its own shtick, with other characters such as Frieda Fussy, Bossy the Cow and Nosy Nelly showing up once in a while to tutor my daughter (and now my son) in a variety of subjects.

Now that I write about things legal and sometimes disturbing, it serves me well to keep the pseudonyms going.

My Crystal Ball

I am writing this right after getting back from my real estate client/neighbor's home. She is buying a home, leaving our quiet little patch of Mesa--if the transaction actually goes through. Which is debatable right now. I brought her over a bottle of wine to go with the bad news she needed to swallow. She was gracious enough to share.

My wine-induced relaxation is a nice by-product of a very stressful week which had very little to do with Alabama. Actually, a lot happened in Alabama this week. For the most part, I just ignored it.

Ok, not completely true. Because I have been so preoccupied with my real estate job, I just dusted off my crystal ball and figured out what would need my immediate attention next week. This was a useful bit of foreshadowing, as it will save me from lots of stress next week. Instead, I am dealing with next week's premeditated Alabama insanity this week.

For example, Carolsue got the call to serve one of my tenants. Her rent is late. After a phone call and an e-mail, I had no response, so she can serve away on Monday. I already sent Carolsue the notice. Oddly enough, I told Carolsue all this woman had to was call me back. Given the week I have had, I probably would have worked with her.

Additionally, I sent Legal Eagle Mr. Richard's file for her to work her magic. Yes really. When Mr. Richard's check didn't come this week, I left him a message telling me the only thing I would accept in his next voice mail would be him giving me the check number from his missing rent payment. I haven't heard back. I still might. It isn't hope and it isn't the crystal ball speaking here. Just a voice of experience. Legal Eagle will have him served on Tuesday. No, Wednesday. No Thursday...

I have the two homes Marty and I own together--with no other financial backing--coming vacant in a matter of days. If they don't come vacant, the way the tenants have declared they will, I will then have a bigger mess. But, I will cross that bridge when the wine wears off.

Knowing I have two homes coming vacant, I needed to make arrangements to have the utilities turned on. Normally I can do this from here, but if the tenants do not pay the utilities, it becomes more tricky. So, I needed to send Carolsue two powers of attorney to handle this. She will keep these safe until the moment comes that these properties are vacant.

Additionally, I am trying to set up a trip to Birmingham. Now that my real estate transaction is going into extra innings, I don't feel at liberty to leave as soon as I was hoping. Additionally, Marty Sunshine has a major deadline at work. Being the new guy, it isn't in his best interest to take time off work to watch the kids and/or ask for work from home favors only two months into his new assignment. So, I am coordinating a hypothetical trip at the moment. All the while, I am looking for hypothetical babysitting, as I don't have any actual dates. My crystal ball isn't that good.

Red Came Through

Well finally! Mrs. Martin and I agree on something--she needs to leave.

Apparently she jumped to this conclusion today when Red showed up on her door and handed her an eviction notice. Mrs. Martin did the only thing she ever does in these situations, she contacts me.

Today, however, she was a wee bit indignant that I was not "following through" on my end of our bargain, therefore she announced she will be out by May 31. This was news to me because I had no idea we had a "bargain." And, in the event we might have one, it would look like this: I let her live in my home, she pays me rent to live in said home.

At any rate, Mrs. Martin is now leaving. That is quite all right with me.

In her e-mail, Mrs. Martin did address the amount of money Legal Eagle says I am owed. Apparently Mrs. Martin did not add up the rents owed, late fees, legal fees and Red's processing fees. I didn't break down the numbers for her. She wouldn't like it anyway.

I did tell her to direct all future correspondence to my attorney. That actually sounds much scarier than it really is. All Legal Eagle will do is call me and say, "Guess what? You gotta hear this."

Legal Eagle is still filing an eviction against her. That will be the first step in the wage garnishment game--which I suspect Mrs. Martin is not fully aware is coming. It isn't that she wasn't warned it was happening. Legal Eagle explained it all in her letter: move out by the 15th or pay another month's rent, wages will be garnished and if there is any damage to the property I will prosecute.

Even though I think Mrs. Martin is in serious denial, I certainly hope Mrs. Martin is coherent enough to make sure the place is cleaned up. Because I am going to add the cost of Carolsue going in there there and taking her junk to the curb to her final bill.

The One-Man Band Comes to a Screeching Halt

Until yesterday, Mondays have traditionally been my work day. Up until yesterday, my home schooled kids were in "school" all day, playing with other home school kids and learning about bats, the desert and Dr. Seuss. Yesterday was the last day of school. Additionally, my babysitter/file clerk's parents have decided they should spend the summer in Canada, so I am not sure what the future holds for my "work days" at this moment.

Yesterday--my last official work day of the school year--was wasted with a mind-blowing migraine that started around 7:30 a.m. and lasted until Halloween. Marty Sunshine, who has a new position at work, had to come home and take the kids to school, because there was no way I was venturing into sunlight. And there was no way they were staying home (Marty was also was bandying around catch phrases like "aneurysm," suggesting he didn't want to scare me). In fact, I was so sick of the humming of the air conditioner, that if I had the strength I would have turned it off--even if it was 100 degrees.

When I did finally manage to lift my head, I found out I have missed three messages from Alabama. I haven't worked on the loan modifications and I haven't sent the bills to Bliz to pay. I also had a few Alabama e-mails of significance that need to be addressed, including one from Mr. 114 for some work he did and another from Carolsue wondering where her money is for some errands she has run for me.

The one e-mail that is painfully missing is from Legal Eagle telling me Mrs. Martin was served. So I guess that still hasn't happened. Too bad I took yesterday off, I could have called Red myself and asked him why this hasn't happened yet.

Teaching an Old Southern Man New Tricks

I firmly believe Mr. Richards is trainable. I am not sure exactly why I optimistically grasp to this ray of sunshine. Perhaps I just want him to be. Or, maybe because he has caught on little by little. For whatever reason, he still registers as a flake on my radar. Even after all these years.

Mr. Richards is on a payment plan that he has somewhat followed. He sent me enough money to keep him firmly situated in his home for a bit longer. However, he missed his next payment. More importantly, he neglected to call. I called him, telling him I really hated assuming the worst, but had no other idea what to think--unless of course he called me back.

To his credit, he called an hour later. He explained he was in no hurry to leave, and perhaps he could have made things a bit easier if he had called me last week when he knew he would be falling short.

Apparently Junior at some fried chicken and an errant bone stabbed his mouth with enough damage to require stitches. Mr. Richards needed the money he was sending me for Junior. Had he called me and just said that, he would have missed out on my pissy voice mail. I am starting to think he likes being yelled at. Or he is used to it.

Because Mr. Richards is almost caught up, he has a repreive for a few days. The remainder of his money should be here (according to his time schedule) by Tuesday or Wednesday. That is about par. I think he is good for it (but Legal Eagle is on notice).

But why do I think he can be trained? Because he promised me when he sent out this next check he wouldn't send it signature required.

My Entrepreneurial Spirit

A long while ago, I declared that the next business I would be starting in Birmingham would be a charm school for plumbers. This was after I went through four plumbers in 24 hours--all of whom displayed varying degrees of competence and no manners whatsoever. It isn't that I want someone to be super-nice to me, but I would like some basics: not to be barked at is pretty high on the list.

Currently

Me: Can you fix the broken pipe?
Plumber: (growling) Why? You think you can fix it? If you can do a better job Lady, you go right ahead.

After Charm School

Me: Can you fix the broken pipe?
Plumber: Yes Ma'am, that will be an exorbitant amount of money. Sign here please.

Before it took me several months to pay off the only decent plumber in Birmingham, I had forgotten about this business concept. Now that I am not certain I have a preferred plumber any more (and fortunately haven't had an occasion to find out), I am back to tinkering with the whole charm school thing.

There's a market for this. Trust me.

Additionally, I have also decided once I made my millions from plumbing charm school, I plan to start a process serving training company. I maintain that any process server who can correctly serve someone within a 48 hour period of time is good in my book. And, that is after lowering my standards.

Imagine if you will, the process server who actually served a deadbeat right away! Just think about how much business they could get? (ok, yes I know sometimes it is hard to catch the person being served... I get that).

Currently

Me: Have they been served yet?
Process Server: Who?

After Process Server Training

Me: Wow! You went to their work, immediately gave them a summons and had the rest of your day to live your life or get more work?
Process Server: Yes Ma'am (read that as: "Of course, time is valuable, and you--the customer--are paying me to do a very important job.")

I am thinking what I need to do is start some sort of educational designation for process servers--the way real estate agents get all sorts of initials after their names that nobody cares about.

Legal Eagle pointed out though, the problem is they aren't the move quickly types to begin with. They just aren't high-strung Type-A personalities. If they were, they wouldn't be process servers, they would be real estate agents.

Behind the Scenes

Not every day can be a crazy who-stole-the-rafters kind of day. Fortunately. Every so often, thankfully, my accidental Southern business takes a turn for the mundane. This week was more (or less) banal. If you are truly curious, please feel free to read on. If you are my bookkeeper, you may definitely want to read on, as some of this might eventually affect you.

1. There has been a flurry of e-mails between me and the tenant who is moving out. She is asking if I am interested in selling the home to her neighbor's boss's best friend's mother. I might be. But first Dear Tenant who is abandoning me, what kind of condition is the house in? That of course, is a trick question. If she tells me the carpet is missing, she sold the copper piping and there is a hole where the upstairs floor used to be, I might take issue with my soon-to-be former tenant.

2. Mrs. Martin sent me a token rent check of 1/8 of what she owes me. The check is (begrudgingly) being sent to Legal Eagle. By the way, rumor has it, Mrs. Martin was served yesterday. Of course she was...

3. I haven't heard from Ms. Betty since last Friday. This is a record.

4. One of my tenants' dog had puppies. I found this out via Twitter. It turns out she didn't mention she had a dog when she moved in.

5. I am working with banks trying to restructure four mortgages. This requires a lot of paper work, jumping through hoops and a great sob story letter as to why I feel (as an investor) there is hardship. There is hardship. But banks don't look at investment properties the same way they look at regular home mortgages.

6. I still have the dead tree/air conditioner/lawn mower saga going on, with no particular outcome. I need evidence before I can move forward. The same person I asked to take pictures and provide me evidence is also serving Mrs. Martin today (Red--who, by the way, is now walking without the aid of crutches or cast).

7. I keep telling Marty Sunshine it is time for me to head over to Bama. I don't really have much to do there unless Mrs. Martin moves out. It isn't that I don't have things to do, I just don't really have enough to do that warrants finding child care for my kids for a week, paying for a hotel and rental car. Most of my errands are easily accomplished through a series of networking, driven by Carolsue. Sometimes showing up has an intrinsic value, like just checking on things for myself so I can keep my sanity in check.

Those Who Don't Study History...

For those of you who took part in yesterday's quiz, if you answered that I would keep Mrs. Martin's money and play again next month, you would be mistaken. And, no. It wasn't a trick question. As experience is the best teacher, it would make sense that you would naturally assume this would be the outcome.

However, experience is the best teacher which is why I won't (hypothetically) accept her payment any more.

Of course, Mrs. Martin hasn't sent a payment in. Nor have I heard from her since her promise to pay. That doesn't mean Mrs. Martin doesn't think she and I are gold. It means 1) Mr. H. hasn't served her yet (because nothing ever happens on time...yada yada) or 2) Mrs. Martin knows the gig is up.

I would like to believe Legal Eagle's attached letter to her termination notice convinced her I was serious. I will pursue legal damages if the house is trashed. I will garnish her wages. I would like to believe she will just leave. But, experience is a nasty teacher at times.

Experience also tells me this house is in a highly desirable school district (Pinson Schools--for those who know the area). People move in the summer. Getting her out now is ideal. Currently there is a shortage of rental homes in Birmingham. If Legal Eagle has sufficiently scared her into leaving, now is the prime opportunity for me.

Marty Sunshine and I own two properties without partners. We have one hundred percent of the risk and reward. One of these homes will be the vacant one I have coming up at the end of the month. The other belongs to Mrs. Martin. No, this is not ideal financially. In fact, I suspect I might have a lot of upcoming blog-therapy in my future. But, experience tells me it will all work out in the end.

How Much Have You Been Paying Attention?

In honor of collegiate finals week, here is today's post, in multiple-choice fashion.

Title:

A. Choose Your Own Adventure
B. These Blogs Practically Write Themselves

Mrs. Martin's 10 day notice has expired and the next part of the eviction process has not occurred because

A. nothing ever happens on time in the South.
B. Mrs. Martin has paid me and this is a moot point.

Mrs. Martin is on notice and is

A. shaking in her shoes.
B. is unaware she has a landlord.

Once served, Mrs. Martin will

A. send out an incoherant text message saying she will send money some time next week.
B. move out.

If indeed Mrs. Martin does send money, Legal Eagle will advise me to:

A. cash the check and sock it in the bank until we do this again next month.
B. return it to Mrs. Martin and kick her out anyway.

Heart Breaking

One of my long time program mortgagees is in failing health. She is in her 60s and is no longer able to work. She lost her job a year ago and is trying like anything to get disability. I have never personally met her, with the few times I put in an overture years earlier, she dismissd me. The funny thing is, for the past year she has been telling me to please call her when I am in town so we can meet.

Mrs. C. called me last October in dire need of assistance. She had been paying me out of her savings and now the money was gone. She couldn't afford her COBRA payment and the mortgage payment at the same time. She assured me it would be just a few months before disability came through. Is there something that could be done?

Mr. Partner, Marty Sunshine and I discussed this at length. If you recall, last October we were at the worst time in our company's history. We had two vacant homes and a Mr. Smith. We were not in a position to help.

However, Mr. Partner didn't blink when I brought up her situation. Our plan was that we would forgo the cash flow for additional money when her loan came due next year. Even if she didn't perform, the house had enough equity that the risk could be mitigated.

But, that isn't the reason we helped her. Mr. Partner simply said, "We help people. That is why we started this company." We have been allowing Mrs. C. to pay a significantly reduced payment ever since.

This past week I wrote a letter to her Social Security attorney, in hopes of expediting her disability. The theory is, if I can help her establish hardship the Federal Government might move faster. After all, the medical professionals agree she has an issue. It is just some clerk who needs to put their stamp of approval on her file.

The letter I wrote made me cry. I hated writing the words that solidified the realities she and I are facing. I wrote, "We understand this is an unfortunate situation. However it has become a financial burden we are unable to take on any longer. Per the terms of our agreement if Mrs. C. does not perform we will be forced to begin foreclosure proceedings."

Mrs. C. has never caused me any problems. Even though I wrote the letter, for now, as long as we possibly can, we will continue carrying Mrs. C. But she even said, "I know you can't do much else and I know you can't do this much longer. Thank you for your help."

Connections

We have a potential renter for the home Jack and I own. Jack and I are licensed agents and have a lot riding on our screening process. There is a strict set of Federal Fair Housing guidelines Jack and I must follow. Ignoring these set criteria can land us in a lot of hot water down the road (not to mention a nasty fine and possible jail time).

Additionally, there is another set of written criteria Jack and I have in place for our renters. They must make a certain amount of money and have a certain minimum debt ratio before we will even talk to them. This ensures we will get rent.

On top of that, I personally don't take tenants who have had an eviction or have been arrested for manufacturing or selling illegal substances. Nor do I accept tenants who have been arrested for a violent crime or sexual misconduct. You know, the basics.

Even with this kind of screening process in place, there is another level of screening that sometimes takes place. Networking. This is generally the best way to get quality tenants.

Jack got a call from someone who saw his sign outside our home. Both Jack and the potential tenant recognized each other's names and spent a few minutes reminiscing. They aren't friends. But, they do travel in social circles which at times overlaps. They hear about each other. Apparently our potential tenant sent his condolences about Jack's mother's passing, while Jack inquired about a medical situation our potential tenant has experienced. Neither have seen each other in years.

This level of familiarity boosted this potential tenant up on the "we want you, please rent from us" scale considerably. In the South (and I am sure it happens in other places as well, I don't see it as much here), if you burn someone, you are going to be shunned by their entire social network. You just don't do that.

For example, Jack introduced me to Burt the handyman. Burt stopped doing work for me. He didn't call. He just dropped off the face of the Earth in mid-project. Jack won't use him any more for handyman projects. Neither will any of Jack's associates. Burt lost this connection (and a lot of potential future work).

Strangely, I had to explain to Jack why this potential renter guy was exciting to me. It is so ingrained in his nature, apparently nobody ever spelled it out. When I finished, Jack agreed.

We wouldn't have any trouble with this guy.

All Better

My self-infliced PO Box crisis has been resolved. The Post Office has their money for another year. I have access to my box, with the Post Office's answer to a car boot, taken off. Everything is groovy. In fact, Mr. Richardson's check was even in the box. Just like he said it would be.

The Post Office Box

The Post Office called today. In their one true gesture of customer service, they wanted to let me know that I wrote the check for the wrong amount. It should have been for $56. I wrote it for $638.38.

I have no idea why I wrote the wrong amount and am truly grateful they caught my mistake. Anyway, they called to tell me it was the wrong amount and did I want them to cash the check or did I want to go ahead and write another check to them?

Seriously, they asked if I wanted them to cash my check!

Meanwhile, the PO Box is locked and I do not have access to it until this is straightened out. Then, it will take another couple of days for the locksmith to put my old lock back on the box.

Ironically, now I have to stand in line for an hour to get it unlocked and this situation resolved. Somewhere Mr. Richards has a magic mirror, is watching this, and laughing hysterically.

Mr. Richards

Well, I broke down and called Mr. Richards. Partially because he didn't follow is usually MO and call me immediately after being served. Because it was so odd, I just wanted to know what was up. But if the truth be told the other reason I called him was Mr. Partner and I currently have enough drama without another vacant home. Illegal activity moved up significantly over flaky tenants on the what-is driving-me-the-nuttiest now scale.

In the past when I have called Mr. Richards, I am very polite and business-like. Today I let him have it, in a crisp, seriously pissed off, business-like sort of way. I don't remember the word-for-word, but apparently my voice mail made a significant impact. It is truly amazing how fast he can remember to dial my number when he thinks he is going to have to pay legal fees and have his wages garnished.

Mr. Richards managed to call me in three minutes flat. The first words out of his mouth weren't a greeting but, "I really don't want to move, Mrs. Landlord." I can appreciate that. I would rather not deal with him moving either right now. I believe he means it too. One of the things I happen to know about Mr. Richards situation is he was granted custody of his son a few years ago. It is very important to him that Junior have a stable home. The real trick is if Mr. Richards can do what it takes to keep that stable home.

Today's excuse consisted of someone dying and Mr. Richards offering to fax over the death certificate obituary and anything else that might prove he has been out of town for a few weeks taking care of the untimely passing of his relative. I actually believe him--not that I told him that. He never leaves his grass long and according to my sources, it had been looking a bit shaggy. Additionally, his termination notice was on his door for a few days.

Again Mr. Richards gave me a payment plan, with money going out today. I should have it by Thursday--which coincidentally is the day Legal Eagle is planning on springing into action on her part and starting the eviction.

There are two things I stressed to Mr. Richards: I told him if he deviated from his payment--even one day--we were through. And, if he sends me one more payment with a signature required, making me stand in line at the post office for an hour, we were through with no turning back. He would no longer hear from me. The next person he talked to would be Legal Eagle.

Mr. Richards is a flake. But he has proven in the past to be a flake of his word. Right now I can live with that. At least until Thursday.

Of All The Nerve

I got an e-mail today from Ashley, my insurance agent wanting to know who was in charge of my properties. My insurance company apparently is "questioning" how responsible I was with my homes, why I am out of state and how my tenants are screened.

Because I have so many properties, my homes are insured under two different companies. What really got me in a snit was the company "questioning" this was not the company I recently submitted claims with. Instead, it was Alpha Boss's company--whom I have had no dealings with in about six months.

In the event you hadn't heard of Alpha Boss, he is the most patronizing pile of garbage I have ever met. He has a minion, Alpha Adjuster, who only works on Tuesdays and is the second biggest pile I ever met. Alpha Boss even had the nerve last year to suggest I was lying and manufactured the claim I submitted.

Not only is there no reason why Alpha Boss should be asking anything about the claims I put in and who is "managing" these homes, but nobody should. Additionally, I have no idea why on earth anyone should question how I screen my tenants.

Even being close by, I could not have stopped a strong wind from blowing off roof tiles. Nor could I have stopped whomever it was who cut the water pipe under the house in Leeds. It has nothing to do with criminal background. Stuff happens. April was my "stuff happens" month.

In the case of the claims I put in for last month, I rescinded them, once I found out how small they were. The insurance company was not out any money. And, it wasn't even Alpha Boss's properties.

I sent a scathing note to Ashley, outlining what I thought of the unprofessionalism of Alpha Boss and asking why he was involved with these claims in the first place.

However, in any event, how I choose my tenants should be immaterial to an insurance policy. I am not the only out of state landlord managing properties. And, given the number of years I have been doing this, the number of claims I have submitted (one) and the number of homes I have this should not even be topic for discussion.

Tomorrow's task: find a new insurance agent and new insurance companies.

This Would Be An Issue Only If She Really Sent the Money

This morning I woke up super-early. Somewhere in the world it was daylight, but nowhere near Arizona. There were days in years gone past when this would have been my bedtime. But now with kids and responsibilities, those days are a fleeting memory.

Normally, when I have insomnia, I read or do something mindless. Today I took the time to do laundry and clean off my desk. The laundry was self-preservation, because Marty Sunshine was about to loose his good humor if he didn't have clean socks. He does now. In the dryer.

The desk cleaning just sounded like a good idea. Isn't it amazing what sounds great when you are sleep deprived? I would like to make this very clear: if you are a real estate client and reading this: your file was not on my desk, but in my filing cabinet in my closet. If you are a tenant and reading this, your personal information is safely locked in my fire-proof strong box, nowhere near my office. If you gave me a scrap piece of paper with a phone number on it, it was on my desk.

If the Americans With Disabilities Act is ever amended, I will be the first to champion paper-phobia as a true disorder. There are those of us who suffer with it. We live, survive and do our best to get along day to day (until a sadistic bookkeeper sees fit to send another batch of papers--stop the madness Bliz!). But, we are incapable of filing. It is a disease. I promise.

While cleaning off my desk I did come across one gem. The check for the PO Box hadn't been paid. It is now late. So, Mrs. Martin's check that she said she sent last week is now residing peacefully in my locked PO Box with no way to get it until the Post Office sees fit to release the box back to me. But, no matter, none of us really believe Mrs. Martin sent the check anyway.

I May Really Need Therapy When All Is Said and Done

At the risk of being accused of teasing, I have a situation I cannot write about at this time. I sure wish I could. I could use a new spin on it. I could use some humor. What I really could use a glass of wine and what is left of the toffee Bliz sweetly sent me earlier this month.

I know Carolsue, who is beyond suspicious, is just chomping at the bit to give her ten cent's worth of invaluable wisdom. But she won't, not while I have issued a gag order.

This is one of those situations that make my stomach lining burn. I am looking every other day at air fare, wondering if I would be better off going over now, or waiting until the situation hits the fan.

There is an air conditioner. A lawn mower. A dead tree. And probably a whole lot of other stuff I don't know about just yet. Legal Eagle even had to recuse herself, so I am currently without legal counsel on this particular situation.

I am sure it will make a great story. Eventually.

The Broken Water Pipe Again

This is truly one of the most bizarre things I have experienced as a landlord. Ok, not the most bizarre. But in the top 20.

Ms. Betty sweetly said to me yesterday, "I hope y'all don't think we cut that pipe!" She brought it up. I didn't. Perhaps I have two tenants reading my blog?

And now Mr. Betty is offering to fix the mess--which they tell me isn't as bad as they suggested the other day. This will save me filing an insurance claim.

Two Hours I Can't Get Back

The dishwasher was delivered to Ms. Shirley on Friday. It was the wrong color. I spent two hours resolving this, with Home Depot finally saying, "oops."

Ms. Shirley is getting her dishwasher. On Wednesday.

The Smell Test

Yesterday I posted about the water pipe being cut under Ms. Betty's house. I would like to go on record here: It smells funny.

I have a hard time believing this is random. Nothing is missing. Someone left the hacksaw behind. The cut is pretty far under the house. So, the pipe probably wasn't cut at night without any light available. Ms. Betty is very good friends with a retired woman who lives across the street. Nobody saw anything. Even if the neighbors don't like me--the landlord--that would be a lot of work. They have done other things to the home. This isn't their style. This would take too much work.

Something isn't right about the whole thing. Was there a disgruntled tenant who decided to come over, crawl UNDER the house with a hacksaw, cut the water line and then leave the hacksaw?

Was Mr. Smith seeking revenge? Certainly he would be right at home under the house with the rest of the rats (which are dead by the way). But, I can't see him doing it. Why seek revenge on that house. It was for sale for four months. He doesn't know if we even own it any more.

Is someone mad at Mr. and Mrs. Betty and decided to go to this much effort to mess with them? I don't think so. This doesn't affect them as much as it affects me.

My theory is this: Mr. and Ms. Betty aren't telling me the whole story. Perhaps Mr. Betty was under there doing something. Perhaps he accidentally messed with the pipes and when it got out of control, to save face, they called me and manufactured the story. Ms. Betty did not want to call the police. In fact, it was when I offered that she finally agreed. I am not calling them liars. But this just doesn't smell right.