Stick a Fork in Me

I am burned out on the Springs. When I woke up Tuesday, I was mad at myself for giving in to these folks. And though they may turn out all right, the fact is I have violated my basic rules as a business owner and landlord: never, ever, ever work with clowns. Ever.

Sadly, I recognize the desperation in this decision. We weren't getting a lot of traffic. The holidays are coming. The neighbors are crazy. Even in Leeds, where the level of sophistication is significantly lower than many other more cosmopolitan areas, like say, Hooterville, it is still hard to rent out a house under these circumstances.

The reason I was open to them to begin with was because they sounded employed, responsible and mature (and for the most part, they still do). Most likely the Springs will stay for a few years, put down roots and leave me alone for the duration of their lease. They won't care about the weekly meetings of the redneck mafia or the people with the rusted out junked out cars in their front yard.

All Mrs. Spring wants is a home where her grandchildren can come visit. The house in Leeds is at least one and a half, if not twice, the size of her trailer. To her, it is her Buckingham Palace.

But I still am hating myself for giving in. I know better. I was lamenting this to Carolsue on Tuesday, and also pointing out the Springs haven't turned in their lease. And, couldn't the very act of not turning in the lease could be construed as a voidable contract?

As a way of getting me off the phone, Carolsue decided to call Mrs. Spring and remind her that we weren't going any further until I had a lease, and it might be in her best interest to send it. NOW. Meanwhile I decided to start returning voice mails from my ad last weekend.

I am really glad I did. I have found a few people who might fit the bill a bit better. One woman knew exactly where the home was. She had deposit money and rent money. When could she move in? Another man had his landlord die and now the estate was selling the home. He grew up in the area. He was also interested. And, they were willing to pay more for rent than the Springs.

At that point, I started hoping the Springs would just blow off the lease. The grass was greener and I didn't already hate these possible prospective tenants. And, even if they didn't take the place, it reminded me the perfect tenant is just around the corner. Even in Leeds. But, even if the Springs ended up performing, I have learned my lesson: never, ever indulge clowns.

Around 5 p.m. Carolsue called me to break my euphoria. Mr. Spring had driven the 40 miles into town for the expressed purpose of bringing the lease to Mrs. Spring for them both to sign. However, he "forgot" to bring the lease with him. So, they needed me to resend it. It was on Mrs. Spring's other e-mail on her home computer. "You know she has a g-mail account right?" I asked Carolsue. "She could just pull up the e-mail from anywhere." Of course, this was really Mrs. Spring's way of saying they were just getting to it. She assured Carolsue they would be faxing it over immediately.

I was crestfallen Mrs. Spring had called needing a new copy of the lease. I am sure Mr. Spring was even more crestfallen.

I still haven't received the lease. And, if I don't have it this morning, I am done.