Weeding Out Whiney Waterfords

Oh... I just love alliterations...

It appears we have reached a detente with the Whinys. They have their apartment. They are moving on October 8. First, they are painting the room they painted blue. And, they offered to fix the siding they set on fire with their barbecue grill (the fire was news to me). And, they are paying 8 days worth of rent.

On October 9, I have new renters coming in. They love the house. They are financially stable. They lived in their last home for several years (and the landlord defaulted the house is in foreclosure). They are even willing to pay what I was getting before for rent.

Just to seal the deal, Kirby wrote this regarding the new people: "The new tenants said they are not complainers and that they take care of the little things that come up. They told me they replaced a toilet in the house they are in now."

I am trusting they truly terrific, top-notch tenants.

Now, If I Could Just Accurately Pick Stocks

In my defense, I wrote yesterday's post on Sunday night. I had no idea what was coming Monday.

Actually, I had every idea what was coming Monday. My BS meter was spinning wildly out of control. It was only a matter of time.

I got the following e-mail from Kirby on Monday afternoon:

The tenants left me a message this morning that they have got an apartment next to Waterford and they would like to move ASAP and get their deposit back. They are really frustrated with the A/C problems.

Ya... I thought as much.

Tuesday Kirby went over to check out the dastardly air conditioner. He took my newly found AC company with them. The fix cost $79. Kirby also said there was no mold anywhere, and the spot in question the air conditioner made was minimal. Kirby also mentioned there are a few overdue bills tacked to the refrigerator. That might explain a part of their personality. Money is tight, so take it out on the landlord.

What I find amazing is that the Whinys kept telling Kirby the rent was too high. They wanted a reduction. They said there were several homes (which they insinuated were much nicer than mine) in the neighborhood with rents at least $100 to $200 less per month. Instead, they are moving to an apartment for $100 less per month.

I have already put Kirby on alert that I expect October's rent to be covered. So it will either be by the security deposit, or they will cough it up and honor their lease.

If I were a betting woman, I am guessing it will be the security deposit--but I pretty guessed that two weeks ago when they said they wanted to use it for October's rent.

This Seems A Bit Convenient

The Whiny Waterfords called Kirby this weekend. The air conditioner isn't working as well as they would like once again. I don't know exactly what that means. Neither did Kirby.

Here are some relevant facts:

• The Waterfords told Kirby a couple of weeks ago they can't afford rent in October and asked that their security deposit be used for rent (Kirby said no).
• The Waterfords are very short on money in general and would like a rent reduction or will need to move out when their lease is up (October 31).
• The Waterfords have given a conditional notice they are moving. That is, they would like to stay month-to-month for now. However, if Kirby finds someone after their lease is up (to move in November 1), they will have to leave.
• The Waterfords have suggested before there were issues with the home and, more to the point, the five year old air conditioning unit before, only to find out they were grossly exaggerated.

Now, it could be very likely there is a problem with the AC. In fact, from what was described, and I am no air conditioner expert here, it sounds suspiciously like a clogged drain line. If it is such, I would prefer the guy who was out there before come back and do the job right.

All those things were conveyed to Kirby on Saturday.

But, I have to wonder how much of this is manufactured by the Waterfords. I ask this because they are suggesting there is a mold issue once again. They did this before when they were unhappy with their lease and money was tight. At the time Mr. 114 went over and checked. Nope, no mold.
 

My landlord BS meter is going off. Something isn't sitting right. Are they looking for an out in their lease? Are they looking for money from the "rich landlord" for a toxic mold claim?

Whatever the case, I will tell you this: I won't be sorry to see the Whiny Waterfords leave. I suspect they manufacture a lot of the drama in their lives. I would like them to manufacture their drama somewhere else.

Random Bama

I got the following e-mail from my craig's list ad for the house in Leeds the other day:

Please send address. If you want me to rent your home, call me at XXX-XXXX.

I gotta tell you, I am not feeling the warm fuzzy vibe. Or, considering this is the Leeds house, the quasi-civilized vibe.
______________________________________________________________

In a moment of desperation last week, I updated my resume. I hadn't done so since 1999.

It turns out running an accidental business has landed me a lot of (hopefully) useful experience that might translate into marketable skills someday if I decide to actually look for new employment (right now I am still in the "thinking about it" phase).

Part of what I wrote on my resume about my accidental business that may or may not be meaningful to a potential future employer:

"Able to keep company 100 percent solvent through challenging economic times."

That should be worth something, shouldn't it?
______________________________________________________________

Former tenants e-mailed me on Sunday, sending me several pictures of their kids.

On purpose.

Just for the heck of it.

They said they thought I might like to see how much thier kids had grown. (I did.)

Though the rest of the world might think of this as bizarre, I am sort of used to this kind of thing.

Back from the Brink

I really know how my real estate clients feel. They screech at me that I don't provide them with relevant information. Which is true. I usually don't. The selling agent doesn't either. So, we tell them the truth: there is nothing to tell. Then, they loose their minds and screech louder. The story of my life for the past two weeks.

I feel their pain. I am not just saying this. I live it. Kirby is now managing three and a half properties of mine. Sorta. He has two in Calera. One recently got a tenant (who moved out and decided to renew her lease and probably move back in) and the one where the Whiny Waterfords live. The Waterfords, by the way, have pretty much said they are moving out November 1. But, they aren't a concern to me at the moment. That is five weeks away.

Kirby also has my home in Fultondale--which has been vacant since mid-July. And now he has elected to be the property manager for the home in Leeds. However, I haven't signed anything, though that isn't stopping either of us from allowing him to act the part of property manager.

My biggest issue with Kirby--if there has to be an issue--is that he doesn't call me often enough. I don't know what "often enough" looks like. Intellectually, I know if he had anything to tell me, he would pick up the phone or shoot me an e-mail. He has done so before. But, it really doesn't make the silence less deafening.

Friday, I called Kirby bright and early. I left a perky message saying something along the lines of, don't let the day go by without us touching base before the weekend. By 4:00 his time, I still hadn't heard from him. So, I started calling once again.

By the end of the day, I was convinced he hated me, was hiding from me, or decided to go to Europe for the month without saying good bye. I was all worked up. I had managed to self-talk myself into the gutter. Nobody will ever rent my homes. After all, if Kirby had them rented, I would have heard by now. And, somewhere in the middle of my imaginary torture my entire self-worth became tied to whether or not Kirby took the time to call me back.

I blame it on hormones.

Well, Kirby did call me back--just in time for me to climb down from the crevice of imaginary glacial doom. He is still courting the potential tenant from a few weeks ago for Fultondale. She has been out of town, but has been keeping in touch. Oh! She asked Kirby if he would mind if she had her rent automatically taken from her checking account every month?

Kirby also told me he has someone who wants to see the home in Leeds. They have already toured the neighborhood. They aren't frightened by the scrap metal sculptures in the next door neighbor's yard. And, more to my delight, these people see no issue with the Confederate flags and the oiled crosses standing on the other next door neighbor's yard.

Then, Kirby threw this gem at me. Next Tuesday he was planning on showing the Waterford home to future potential tenants. He said the Whiny Waterfords were none-too-happy about that.

"Wait!", they cried. Someone other than them might live in this house they hate?? Not fair! But there isn't much they can do. They opted to move out. Perhaps now they will change their minds, or perhaps the house won't sit vacant too long if they leave.

I am currently breathing a sigh of relief that things are managed to the best of everyone's ability. I don't need to fret for the weekend. Hopefully by Monday things will look even brighter.

If not, I will be scaling my glacier once again. In any case, I promise I won't be screeching at Kirby.

Staying Green

I had been meaning to call Mrs. Green. It had been on my to-do list for about a week. Actually, since Sept. 16., if the truth be told.

But, I hadn't gotten around to it. I was busy being abused once again by frustrated real estate clients who seem to think I purposely tell the banks not to get back to us with answers to their short sale offers. Because I enjoy being repeatedly yelled at by casual acquaintances. But, I digress...

Anyway, I didn't have to call Mrs. Green. She e-mailed me. The first thing she said in her e-mail was she didn't want to call because it was early and didn't want to wake me. Mrs. Green has now made the preferred tenant list.

Mrs. Green's issue was the air conditioning wasn't working right, and could I please send someone out to look at it. And, if it was all the same with me, could it not be the yahoos I sent out last time.

I did a cursory look through my files. I don't recall sending anyone out last time. But in the event I did, it was probably Clay's company. I hear Clay doesn't work there any more and I don't have a way to contact him. So, bye-bye Clay.

As I didn't have an AC Guy off-hand to call, I called Carolsue in a panic. I also e-mailed Kirby, Jack and Legal Eagle. Carolsue was the first to get back to me with the name of a super fantastic company.

This super fantastic company took care of the AC immediately. It was done before 2 p.m., and they charged me a boatload less than I expected. A collective sigh or relief was heard on this side of the Mississippi, as the house is 30 years old and I was expecting the worst to go along with the already awful day I was having.

However, that didn't really resolve the reason I needed to talk to Mrs. Green in the first place. I still had the touchy situation about her lease. You see, it is up next month. When I got around to mentioning this to her, I pointed out the lease stipulates she is to give a 30 day notice if she is planning to move.

As I said this, I could hear Mrs. Green freeze in terror. "I hadn't started looking." she muttered.

No! I exclaimed. I wanted her to stay. In fact, I was so happy with Mr. and Mrs. Green, I wasn't planning on raising the rent--if that was ok with them.

After a audible sigh, it turns out it was very ok with Mrs. Green. She doesn't feel like moving either.

However, I am not going to have her sign another lease unless she asks. I would rather she went month-to-month right now.

You see, her lease is up in October. October is the third-worst month to find a tenant. So, I would rather not legally bind her into staying until next October if there is a problem. Instead, I would rather just keep things rolling on an as-is basis. And, if she sees fit to move (which I doubt she will), hopefully it will be in the late spring or summer.

There's a Tear In My Beer

This is the e-mail I received from Ms. Kathy last Friday, explaining why rent is late. Of course, she waited until Carolsue made her cry before she managed to write to me.

If you insert a guitar, a fiddle and a mournful soprano voice, you have yourself a country music hit.

Hey. I'm sorry for not getting in touch with you sooner. I know you are tired of hearing this but my I don't have my rent money right now. My sister and I bailed my brother out of jail and his old power bill was added to mine. I called my dad. He doesn't have any money. He said he will call me if something changes. I found out about 3 weeks ago that my boyfriend of over two years has been having an affair with his ex wife and my head has been in a fog. My bills really suffered. I can pay two months rent again in October. I will get paid on the 1st but my son is having surgery that day. I will try to mail it that day if possible but it may be the 2nd before I can mail it. Please let me know how that sounds to you.

I've got to ask, why couldn't her brother just stay in jail?

The Term "Profiling" is So Over-Rated

So, Saturday night I got an e-mail from a guy wanting more information about my craig'slist post. He had an interest in the house in Leeds. His note was polite, articulate and he said he had left a message with Kirby.

I e-mailed him back, explaining I was only the owner, Kirby was handling the showings.

A few minutes later, I received another ultra-polite response. No problem. He would await Kirby's call.

I forwarded the e-mails to Kirby, pointing out, our potential tenant was articulate, mastered the basics of common courtesy and could communicate in complete sentences. My directive to Kirby: if he was half as wonderful in real life, get him to rent out the place in Leeds.

Then I checked Facebook. The picture is a guy, missing a shirt. He is covered with tattoos, drinking a beer.

He will fit in that neighborhood perfectly.

The Family Business

Hallelujah! After Marty waited in line for 20 minutes the first time (he had to leave) and 48 minutes the second time last Thursday, he finally picked up Mrs. Spring's check. Amen.

However, as of 10 a.m. last Thursday, I hadn't communicated this to Mrs. Spring because:

1) I didn't know Marty picked up the check
2) I have a life and hadn't gotten around to calling her (this is her crisis, not mine)
3) I am a little annoyed at being accused of purposely sending her rent checks back

Mrs. Spring, who apparently had some sort of arbitrary deadline I was supposed to call her back, didn't let my silence stop her. She called my Birmingham cell phone a second time in 12 hours and left a long-winded message once again.

When Marty Sunshine came home for lunch, he proudly displayed Mrs. Spring's rent check, like a man who was coming back from a long, terrible battle and holding his prize. He made some rude comment about what he will do the next time someone sends a certified letter. I firmly believe he means it.

It appears the crux of Mrs. Spring's issues were she put on the wrong zip code. I don't know why. The lease has the correct zip code (I checked). Now, I'm not implying anything here, but for the first eight months of her lease, the rent checks went to the right zip code. Once her finances got tight, she started mailing the rent to a completely different zip code. I'm just saying...

Because Marty was already in a grumbly mood about the post office, I told him about the latest voice mail she left. Marty's solution was to call Mrs. Spring back.

Marty talked with Mrs. Spring for several minutes, reiterating the reason for the delay in us getting her rent was the incorrect zip code. He also asked her sweetly not to send any more mail certified mail. Ever. I seriously doubt the message got through.

Instead, Mrs. Spring chose to use several agonizing minutes of her end of the conversation to explain how she is surprised about the "poor customer service" she is receiving (from me). She also spend several more cell minutes voluntarily mentioning in so many words about how she is an upright and outstanding citizen (who happened to accuse me of sending her rent check back to her on purpose).

Marty just responded with some sort of benign comment that would translate into, "Bless your heart."

All the while Marty was talking, there was background noise. I was fixing lunch. Polly was singing. Buckaroo was vacillating between knock-knock jokes and sound effects.

At the end of their conversation, Mrs. Spring asked Marty his name and then asked him to spell his last name--suggesting it was just for her records in case there was a problem. Marty politely obliged.

I will bet Mrs. Spring's security deposit, even after she hung up, she never put together that Marty was my husband, not my employer.

Just When You Thought You've Read It All

Might we stroll back a bit in time, to say, May?

Do you remember Hysteria Lane? As a quick back story for my five readers: Tenant lived at Hysteria Lane. I found out the tenant moved out because the neighbor called me, letting me know the tenant moved out in March. The tenant paid every month on time. She still had a lease in place, so there wasn't much I could do if they were handling their end of the bargain. However, their lease is up the end of October.

October is right around the corner.

Could we all have a collective sigh that I will finally get tenants in Hysteria Lane who might actually LIVE there?

Thank you.

Kirby called me on Wednesday. He found a tenant for Hysteria Lane. In fact, it is the same tenant who is on the lease right now.

The tenant is renewing until July, 2011. They are officially moving back in. Why? Because the tenant got transferred to Montgomery AL. Her husband is still working in Birmingham. Calera is sorta half way, and voila! They don't have to go house hunting.

Yes. Really.

Ok, I Really Need to Complain

MRS. SPRING IS DRIVING ME BONKERS!

Thank you.

So, last month Mrs. Spring allegedly sent the rent, but I didn't get the money. I have it now. She paid late fees. I had forgotten about it about an hour after I received the check.

Moving on, last week Mrs. Spring sent me a check certified mail. After I asked her not to.

In all fairness to Mrs. Spring, I didn't explain how annoying it is to stand in line at our post office. I didn't explain about the militant civil servant who abuses every patron. And, if you don't take her guff, you don't get your mail. She exists. She is nasty. Even Marty cringes when he ends up in her line. And he is the martial arts master.

So, as of Wednesday, Marty hadn't made it to the PO Box. No problem. I knew he would go later in the week, as there are bound to be rent checks. Including Mrs. Spring's.

Mrs. Spring e-mailed me on Wednesday asking if I had gotten her check. I took this to mean, do I physically have her check being held on my refrigerator by a happy face magnet, waiting for me to fill out a deposit slip. So, I answered, "no. I am sure I will get it tomorrow." I didn't think about her *!&%?$&%^ certified mail. I just thought about the actual money.

So, let the drama begin.

I should also preface by saying Wednesday was a very busy day for me. I didn't spend much time by a computer. I did spend some time out in the middle of the desert waiting for a buyer while a giant dog with enormous fangs was salivating inside, daring me to come in and show these unsuspecting folks his house. I also spend the day being treated poorly by a buyer who is buying a $25,000 condo. I have to tell you, Mrs. Spring wasn't high on my list of priorities.

I got home at 9:30 p.m. to several e-mails from her. Each one getting more and more snippy. The first gave the tracking number for her certified mail. The last one demanding to know why, since they decided to move, I won't take their checks. The ones in between were variations of the theme.

Note to Mrs. Spring: I am happy to take your checks. I didn't know you were moving when you "sent" the August check. I'm just saying.

It also turns out she left--what Marty warned me--is a 10 minute message on my Alabama cell phone reiterating everything in her e-mails and wanting someone in management to call her back. I still haven't listened to it.

I would like to point out: it is my voice on the voice mail. I own the company. I am the boss. But, I think I will appoint Buckaroo the customer service manager. He can tell incoherent knock-knock jokes to her when she calls back demanding answers to her questions.

I just don't have the energy to respond to Mrs. Spring. I am sure the money is sitting in the PO Box. I am sure Marty will get to it later.

And, I am sure happy she is moving.

Our Little Secret

Pst... Don't tell.

I know Mrs. Spring is all weirded out that I will garnish her wages because she is breaking the lease. But--and you have to promise me you won't tell her--she left two months early, and paid me anyway. And, I have the security deposit. The Alabama courts will only let me go after the remaining rent, less the security deposit. So, essentially, I would have to hire Legal Eagle to file court papers, get a judgement against her and then collect one month's rent.

I would spend more in court fees than what I would return. And, that would be before Legal Eagle took her cut in the garnishment.

And, though this is doable. It isn't feasible to garnish Mrs. Spring.

I never sue on principal. But, Mrs. Spring doesn't need to know this. Right now she is offering me everything, including the kitchen dishwasher. All I want for that home is a tenant who will stay and NOT DRIVE ME CRAZY.

Ok, don't tell.

Social Media: The Latest Tool in Background Checks

So, Kirby might possibly have found a potential renter. Apparently, her credit doesn't look too good. However, she has passed muster with Kirby on the intrinsic tests, has been gainfully employed for the past 16 years with the same company and has made a significantly positive first impression. Kirby liked her enough to ask me what I thought. My response: what is her name and date of birth?

The reason was simple: I wanted to check her out on my fake Facebook account. I wanted to see how she communicated. I wanted to know what she was posting for the world to read. I wanted to know if she whined about her lot in life. I wanted to know if she made lemon chiffon pie out of lemons.

I wanted to know what kind of friends she had. Did her friends speak and act ghetto? It turns out most of her 194 friends don't. Instead, they wax poetic about Alabama Football and Jesus--the two staples of polite Alabama society.

It turns out that this potential tenant and my fake Facebook persona had one friend in common. That common friend is also an upstanding Facebook poster as well. Good to know.

On the down side, the potential tenant has a young adult daughter who will be living with her. The young adult daughter's Facebook posts weren't as honorable as the woman who was applying for the home. Kirby wasn't terribly impressed with the daughter either, which means I am not impressed.

The potential tenant hasn't been approved just yet. She doesn't have the deposit, and won't until September 24. A lot can happen between now and then. So, Kirby is showing the place--just in case someone else, who also has Facebook friends who write about Jesus and Alabama Football, can bring the deposits to him first.

I Haven't Filed Since January

I would like to start out with the following disclaimer: I suspect I bug the hell out of Kirby. Or, Kirby just doesn't know what to do with me. Or, both.

However, I personally find him to be a kindred spirit--even if he doesn't feel the same way. We both manage about the same number of rental homes. Though, thanks to him, his number is getting higher and my number is getting lower.

I know what his job entails. And, I know how frustrating it happens to be. One has to pay for the advertising upfront. Then, one has to show the home to prospective tenants--who may or may not show up. And, if they do show up, one crosses their fingers they are not crazy, or at least gainfully employed.

Then there is the application process, the screening process and the waiting time frame, I call the "BS Zone"--that is, the period of time between the application process and receiving the security deposit where the landlord in question is waiting for the tenant to lie and/or act stupid. This is the most crucial time in the landlord-tenant relationship, however most tenants don't realize this.

The one extra variable Kirby has to deal with in his job is me. Just like doctors are lousy patients and lawyers who represent themselves have fools for clients, landlords who manage properties are extra um... "particular". And if the landlord in question possibly has control issues, happens to be undercaptialized and a tad bit of a high-strung type-A personality, it is a wonder Kirby isn't charging extra for management.

Truth be told, I hate calling Kirby--which doesn't stop me from doing so. Nor does it stop me from envisioning him cringing when he sees my name on caller ID. I fully realize if he had news for me--like a potential tenant for the home in Fultondale--he would be on the phone to me.

To my defense, I generally wait until around Wednesday or Thursday to call him, figuring he does have news for me but hasn't gotten around to telling me the happy news. So, why not just help out by calling him first?

Because Kirby is one of those well mannered Southern types, he isn't shooting as straight with me as I happen to need. I seriously have never had much room in my life for the subtlety that comes with good manners. So, saying things like "you might want to consider cutting the rent a bit down the road," does not mean "You need to reduce the rent. NOW!" Last week I explained to him I too suffer from optimistic landlord syndrome, and to please treat me the same way you would a hype-active toddler. Sugar coating doesn't work. I think he drawled "bless your heart" as a response. But I am not sure.

I don't really have metrics to measure whether having Kirby help me has been worth the property management fee. On one hand, having lessened my burden by two homes has been wonderful. I have noticed a certain peace about not fretting about these two properties which are a bit too far out of town for Carolsue to handle. However, in all fairness, these two tenants haven't been high maintenance (Mrs. Waterford is a bit whiny, but her complaint about the AC and the HOA are legitimate). Heck! One tenant moved out months ago. Those folks certainly haven't been high maintenance. In fact the highest maintenance part for poor Kirby has been me, giving my suggestions on what should happen with these two homes once the lease is up.

My hope is, if nothing else, I amuse him enough to keep him interested in renting out my homes. In the long run, maybe the more I get this stuff off my plate, the more I can concentrate on those things I should be doing instead.

Like tackling the filing.

Random Bama

Mrs. Spring sent rent certified mail anyway. She seriously doesn't seem to have any aptitude for following directions. I am trying to remind myself she is sending money, so why am I complaining?

Oh yea... there is a probable 45 minute wait to pick up certified mail at the post office.

Sorry Marty Sunshine.
_________________________________________________________________

I spoke to Kirby on Friday. He had several showings scheduled for that day. I didn't hear from him since. No news doesn't necessarily mean "bad news." But, somehow in this case I am concerned no news doesn't bode well for getting a renter this weekend.
_________________________________________________________________

Speaking of Kirby, he tells me the tenant at Hysteria Lane is finally boxing up her miscellaneous items and leaving. He says she is cleaning the carpets too.

I am betting she doesn't pay her last month's rent, letting the security deposit cover it. When I told Kirby my prediction, he just sighed.

Looking A Gift Horse in The Mouth

Mrs. Spring wrote me this morning. I am still scratching my head. First, she wants to send me my rent certified mail instead of handing it to Carolsue. I should point out, that handing it to Carolsue was originally her idea.

However, the whole "certified mail" thing doesn't work for me. It requires a minimum of 45 minutes spent at the post office waiting to pick up the mail. Marty Sunshine looses his patience after two of those minutes. And then I have to live with him. And, if he isn't willing to wait to pick up the check, I certainly don't want to haul myself to the post office either to pick it up. So, no. Mrs. Spring, don't send it certified.

But, that wasn't the weirdest part. She also said she was willing to pay October's rent. Mind you, her lease is up in November, so we are talking about one month. I can't figure out if she is doing this because she is afraid I am going to go after her legally or if she wants her security deposit returned.

The part that sort of bothers me is that I loose some rights to the home if they pay October's rent. Technically I can't rent it out if they are still paying rent. I already have this situation on Hysteria Lane.

Eventually I need to get some clarification from Mrs. Spring about what she is actually proposing. But not at this hour of the day. Is this rent money to make me leave them alone in the future? Or is she just planning on holding my home hostage until November? I would prefer it is the former, as I don't want the place vacant. Vacant homes in Leeds come with a fair share of drama. And, I am not just up for that.

Creative Solutions

I have potentially anywhere from three to six homes coming available in the next two months. Two of those, I am pretty sure won't be an issue.

Additionally, Kirby and I are banking on the Waterford home staying rented even though their lease is up. These particular tenants tend to create lots of noise about how unhappy they are but don't really have the money to move. Note to tenants: happiness is a choice. Note to Kirby: thank you for dealing with grouchy tenants.

Then there is the lease on Hysteria Lane is coming due and I can't imagine an MIA tenant since April actually renewing her lease on an almost vacant home. Though, I would be ok if she did. She dutifully pays every month. She is now arranging to have the grass cut and so far, she isn't asking for any repairs.

Mrs. Spring left me in a bit of a bind with the Leeds house. And, as annoyed as I am for her breaking her lease, I am not sorry to see her go. I really hate tenants with a sense of entitlement. I have had four tenants in this property. None of them I cried about when they moved.

As an experiment, I am thinking about checking into the Veteran's Administration housing program for the Leeds home. They have a rent assistance program for vets and my home may qualify. I am not sure how I feel about this. I am also not sure who will manage this property for me--Kirby or Carolsue. I am relieved to have options.

My home on Fultondale is weighing heavily on me. Now that I have my wits, I realize spiraling into financial peril (with a short sale or foreclosure over one mortgage payment) is probably not a great long-term answer. It is amazing how sleep and time often provide massive injections of wisdom. Where we stand right now, Marty and I have agreed not to discuss this option again unless we are in a situation much worse than this.

Kirby tells me he is getting calls now that the rent payment is ultra low and doesn't cover begin to cover my expenses. Hopefully this will be rented very soon. In the mean-time, Marty Sunshine called the bank on Wednesday. He renegotiated our interest rate to 4 percent. Starting in December our payment will be reduced by half--making the property a viable rental once we get our tenant.

Keeping the Demons at Bay

I have done the unthinkable. I have started letting the "what-if" thoughts creep into my head. I justify these thoughts by classifying them as back-up plans, or contingencies if I cannot get the home in Fultondale rented.

It is a dangerous game. If I cannot get the home rented, I cannot pay the mortgage. What then? Do I contact the bank? Do I short sell it? I often ask myself, what do I have to loose? A credit score? I can get it back. But, can I face myself in the mirror the next day? And, more to the point, can I live with myself if I just quit?

People do this all the time. Heaven knows they have done it to me without batting an eye. I had a tenant last year file bankruptcy on me and then stay for three more months. Now, according to what I am hearing, they are living a fabulous life, vacationing and don't have a care in the world. Last summer I three tenants trash my homes, without thinking twice about what that does for the person on the other end. In every case, there was no reason for it. Even Mrs. Spring has bought a home, walking away from her obligation to me, all upset I didn't see things her way.

What makes me so special? Why am I holding on? I hold on because I am hoping the future will be brighter. For the past two years I have been weathering this storm frantically searching the horizon for a rainbow. I look at my kids and think of their future. But then again, why not call it quits and start over. At least I won't stay up at night worried about what next disaster will strike us.

The danger in these thoughts are that once one starts weighing exit plans as a possibility, it becomes easier and easier. If I can let one house go, why not more? Why not look at dumping them all and just filing bankruptcy? Wouldn't it be easier to have my credit hit just once--even if it is for a ton of money--than have a hit now and another a year from now? Doesn't it make more sense to just dump everything all at once?

There are other aspects, of course. Is Alabama an anti-deficiency state? That is, if I give a home back to the bank, do I have to pay the difference? And, if I filed bankruptcy, how will it affect our partners? Is there a way to protect them or will they get sucked into this mess too?

No, we aren't at this phase. And, with God's grace I hope never to have to go there. But, what if?

It has been almost two months without a renter for the home in Fultondale. I have lowered the rent $200 from what I normally rent this home for. What's left? Do I throw more money into this to make it look more desirable? It is already clean and in good condition. Do I add a fence for the $3,000 I was quoted (and I don't have that either)? Do I offer a move-in special or lower the rent even more? Do I take a Section 8 renter?

I have ads in Craig's list. I have ads in the newspaper. I am looking for creative solutions. And, above all, I am praying. I don't know what else to do.

The fact is, I don't have the money to cover October's mortgage. I am no longer just vulnerable. I am exposed to the elements. I can honestly say I am scared. At what point do I stop fighting? And, what is the difference between loosing a fight and just giving up?

I Wasn't Bluffing, But I Can't Speak for Carolsue

Carolsue has told me more than once Mrs. Spring is afraid of me. According to Carolsue, I seem to have that "businesslike/landlord vibe" going for me, which intimidates Mrs. Spring. The truth is, I am pretty much a pushover unless someone takes advantage. Then my "businesslike/landlord vibe" turns into "full-throttle bitch." And, in Mrs. Spring's case, my full-throttle mode, happens to include a generous smattering of multi-syllable words to scare her even more.

It appears Mrs. Spring took my threat seriously. That was very wise of her, as I wasn't really threatening. I was pretty darn serious. And amazingly, if Mrs. Spring had approached her situation many different ways--the main one being not to threaten to hold my home hostage for two months and suggest her security deposit would cover one of those months--I might have been more accommodating.

Anyway, Mrs. Spring opted to pay her August rent. She has also cheerfully opted to pay September's rent. I am also guessing she consulted an attorney to see if I really could do everything I told her I would do if she skipped without paying a cent for September (I can).

Because, once the dust settled and she and I had a meeting of the minds, I got a second e-mail from Mrs. Spring offering to give me the dishwasher she brought to the home (the old one was "stolen" by Ms. Betty--). Additionally, she is allowing a potential representative of mine to show the house, in hopes of me finding a future tenant as soon as possible. And, just to make sure we are all friends, she offered to post my home for rent on Facebook.

Oh yea! Mrs. Spring also tells me she is willing "giving" me my security deposit too. But, I think she might be a bit confused about that. It is mine once she breaks the lease. It isn't a gift. And, if she stayed one extra month, she would have had it back. Go figure?

Mrs. Spring's generosity on Thursday came with more drama than can fit into this tiny corner of cyberspace (hence my theory of her legal consultation to see if I could garnish wages). I heard Carolsue might have possibly threatened bodily harm. If that's the case, I would vainly like to believe Mrs. Spring didn't remember that particular ditty. Sadly, I am not kidding.

And, while we are on the topic of Carolsue, I would like to send a huge shout out to her for straightening out Mrs. Spring's logic and defending my interests. (Mrs. Spring cried apparently.) Thank you sweetie. I am sorry I couldn't have been a ghost in the room for that one. But please, no more threats of bodily harm--even if they might deserve it. I am counting. That's two tenants in the past year.

The Move-In Special That Wasn't

My move-in special advertisement lasted a whole five days.

Essentially, I was offering September's rent for an 18 month lease. Though, I would have been just as happy to make it a 12 month lease if anyone would have thought enough to balk. But, now that I am in September, it doesn't really make too much sense to offer September's rent free under the circumstances.

So, this time I really, really bit the bullet. I lowered the rent another $100--just like Kirby told me to weeks ago. It killed me. I have always rented this home out for my price--$200 more. This feels like I'm giving the house away. Which, I pretty much am.

With a property management fee, I now don't break even. But paying the insurance out of my pocket is cheaper than this house sitting vacant another two months. So, that's what I am going to do.

Now to find a renter.

Hopefully. Probably. Definitely.

Summer of My Discontent

Mrs. Spring is either the dumbest human being alive, or....

No scratch that. I have met dumber.

Mrs. Spring is either the most naive person alive or she has one heck of a superiority complex.

Wednesday she told Carolsue she mailed her rent payment last week. She then called me and told me her husband mailed it. Note to tenants playing this game: keep your story straight.

But, let's back up. Mrs. Spring actually called me on Wednesday to tell me she was breaking her lease. She found a lovely mobile home in the country and they would be out October 1. A month before her lease expired. And, just to soften the blow, she volunteered that she was planning on paying September's rent as well.

I said, "Let's see if we can work something out...." and was cut off twice before I could complete my sentence. Each time Mrs. Spring said, they had already found a place and weren't changing their mind.

I was ok with that. But the rest of my sentence was "... about refunding your security deposit." I never got there.

Because Mrs. Spring's lease was up in November, and she was hell-bent on leaving in October, I was willing to refund her deposits if she would leave the place clean and let me show it the last two weeks of the month. That's all. I just didn't want to start the cleaning/showing process in October--closer to Christmas.

What I did tell Mrs. Spring was to kindly put her notice into an e-mail. I figured I would hit her up later about the security deposit refund. Mrs. Spring did put her thoughts into words. And that's when we ran into trouble.

Mrs. Spring wrote me that she wanted to use her security deposit for her September's rent so that they could "pay our first month's rent to our (new) landlord."

In case you missed that: they want to NOT PAY ME, so they can stay current with their new landlord.

The first several drafts of my e-mail back to her were beyond unkind, with Marty Sunshine sweetly suggesting I sleep on them and edit the attitude out of them in the morning. I finally settled with this:

We have a contract, which expires November 14. If you choose to break it, you are not entitled to the security deposit. It is not "available" for you to "use" as a rent payment. It is to ensure the landlord has recourse if a property is damaged or a tenant fails to honor their contractual obligations. It is not your personal savings account. Nor is it refundable if you choose to break the lease.

Your behavior has once again crossed the line. I will not allow you to abuse my good nature. You are in violation of your lease. I suggest you move out this weekend. Otherwise, I will begin eviction procedures on Monday. Please understand, I am currently garnishing three former tenants who chose tax my good nature and take advantage of my kindness.

I haven't heard back. Carolsue is on alert. Mrs. Spring will be getting her walking papers Monday.

The Summer of Non-Drama Came to A Crashing Halt

Sometimes I sit around thinking about calling this blog quits. I mean really, how many times can one read about Ms. Kathy not calling me before one yawns loudly? Even I get tired of writing about the same old, same old.

And now after three blissful summer months of very little drama (what's one pesky vacant home?) and a property manager to break up the monotony, I am writing less and less about the weird stuff and more and more about the mundane stuff.

The mundane stuff is what is supposed to happen. The mundane landlord is supposed to get the rent on Monday. The mundane landlord gets the call from Kirby on Tuesday saying the AC at the Waterford home went out again. The mundane landlord is supposed to hear from Mr. 114 on Wednesday that he just sent me an invoice for mowing a lawn. Then, the mundane landlord is allowed to bask in her mundaneness for the remainder of the week.

Mundane landlords don't need crash helmets or take lortabs (which I don't have either, but I can dream...)

I apparently will never be a mundane landlord because I have a home in Leeds. And, as we all are aware, Leeds has baggage. Not just my home or the neighborhood, but I am convinced there is something in that general area that affects the thought processes of the most seemingly normal people.

The Springs have decided to move. And, that alone is another blog post I am not up for today. Essentially, Mrs. Spring is making it difficult for me to practice seeing the good in everyone. So, not today.

But, what the Springs leaving does is give me blog fodder. And, of course this means more dealing with the insane people across the street. It means dealing with another vacant home. And, as the Springs don't promise to be a smooth transition, I am sure I will be wishing for the lortab. Or at least I will be writing. Because there always seems to be something new to write about in Leeds.

And The Rest of the Stories

Legal Eagle is back feathering her nest. She was busy preparing for trial and got sucked into that. Now it is month end and her trial is behind her. We did catch up on Tuesday long enough to talk about Mr. Smith. I will bug her about my other issue next week.

I also sent her my blog post from this past weekend as well. Interestingly enough, she doesn't know the teacher I mentioned. I promised her I wouldn't have gone that route unless I was in jail.

Mr. Smith is being served by my favorite process server, Red, this next week. Oh, what a great day! For anyone interested, Ms. Kathy might be willing to allow you access to her front yard where Carolsue will be cheerily selling tickets to the Process Serving Show of the Week. Oh someone, please take pictures.

_______________________________________________________________________

Alberto got his new home. He is thrilled beyond thrilled. He has called me enthusiastically thanking me. I never stop marveling at how grateful people are over having a place to live. His sincerity is very touching.

Anyway, Alberto, Mrs. Alberto, Alberto Juniorette and their three dogs have a new home. The landlord, who has had an empty home since April has a rented home to a guy who will probably never move. The place will be well cared for and they will never complain about a thing.

I, in turn, get a small stipend which will go directly towards my kick-boxing and martial arts training. This might come in handy if I have to go back to 40th Street and Broadway.