Random Bama

Ok... not to jinx anything, but I just may, possibly, maybe, have a new tenant for Haroldine's home. It was very minimal work on Jack's part (which is good). My biggest concern is that they look awesome on paper and they will probably only stay for a year (which is not good).

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Ms. Angie was thinking of me last week. When she phoned on Thursday she was extremely upset. The purpose of her call was to just make sure I was ok. You see, she e-mailed me the week before and I didn't reply (her e-mail just told me her rent was in the mail). She also called me a few days earlier, but I didn't realize there was a voice mail waiting for me. So, when she didn't hear from me, apparently she thought the worst.

Now seriously, how can anyone not like Ms. Angie?

__________________________________________________________

It seems Ms. Angie wasn't the only one with the landlord on the brain. Legal Eagle wrote me Wednesday. It seems she read about some horribly violent crime in Ohio and she said it made her think of me.

I don't wish to sound ungrateful here, but it would be totally ok with me if Legal Eagle would think about me when she sees a butterfly or a rainbow instead.

Nothing But the Truth

A funny thing happened when I e-mailed Mr. 114 about Ms. Shirley's screens. Yes, he will do them. But he also said this:

"(Ms. Shirley's) boyfriend is driving a beautiful brand new truck so don't let her feed you any bs about being broke!"

By the way, Ms. Shirley still hasn't mentioned the boyfriend she has had living there for the past two and a half years.

Sparring with Ms. Shirley

I must tell you, Ms. Shirley's drama is no match for me.

I have a preteen daughter.

For those of you who have lives, here is the quick back story on Ms. Shirley. Ms. Shirley contacted me about a year ago because there was a mysterious roof leak and she was suggesting I needed the 10 year old roof completely replaced. In fact, she had a handy-dandy company that would handle it and it wouldn't cost me anything because I can put a homeowner's insurance claim in.

I wasn't impressed, so Ms. Shirley squawked about this for a few months. However, the roof in question miraculously healed itself when I refused to play along, making it very clear I would not be using the roofing company she was recommending (who also happened to be giving kick-backs to Ms. Shirley for her business).

Last autumn Ms. Shirley started taking advantage of our business relationship and began paying whenever she darn well felt like it. Her justification was that I didn't know what it was like to be poor. The translation was I deserved to wait until she was good and ready to cough up the money she was contractually obligated to pay. That was resolved very quickly when she received a lease termination notice this past January. At that point, our relationship regressed back to a last name basis.

There have been other issues hither and yon. In December of 2009, she asked if I would put screens on the windows.  A reasonable request. However, I asked her to wait and ask again in the spring when she would have open windows. In the spring she was carried away with the roof leak and never got around to the screens.  I forgot too.

A week ago, on a Saturday night, Ms. Shirley e-mailed me. Her air conditioner wasn't working. What exactly was I planning on doing about it? After all, I am to maintain it according to the lease. Yes, that is true. But I am not doing a thing about it on a Saturday night. Because there is a two hour time difference, I told her first thing Monday to call the HVAC company I use and ask them to come out. It would be faster than me calling them Monday when I was up and moving.

Last Monday, when I was up and moving, I did call the HVAC company. I wanted to let them know they had an authorization limit. Anything more than my desired amount and they would need to call me first. I didn't want Ms. Shirley putting a new AC unit on the home on my dime. Not that she would do that.

Probably.

The HVAC company told me they had gotten tons of calls over the weekend and into Monday morning. They were booked solid until the today--March 28th. However, they were taking care of Ms. Shirley's issue first thing that day. 

Ms. Shirley didn't know I called. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't have sent me a snippy e-mail, telling me the HVAC company was booked up until next March 28. And again, what was I going to do about it? Mind you, this same HVAC company had told me an hour earlier they were squeezing in Ms. Shirley's AC issue that day. Ms. Shirley didn't mention that. But, I did when I responded.

As a rebuttal to the awesome customer service she was about to receive, Ms. Shirley's announced how she would really like to open the windows, but suggested that it was just impossible because I hadn't bothered to put on window screens--like she asked about so long ago.

"Well how about that! We got so caught up in the leaking roof last year, I just forgot all about those screens. Thank you so much for reminding me. How's that roof holding up?" I sweetly asked, getting the desired effect: Ms. Shirley managed to figure out a way to stop talking.

Incidentally, the AC issue wasn't a big deal. In fact, there appeared to be more drama in her getting the repair made than the actual issue--which is also typical for preteen girls.

Public Service Announcement

Since Craig's List has finally pulled the fake ads, my Birmingham phone isn't ringing. Today, in vain hope, I got one message.

Sadly, it wasn't for me.

Dear Jackie,

You have an appointment on Monday, March 28, 2011 at 8:15 with the Tuscaloosa Urology Center. Please arrive 15 minutes early and bring your insurance card.

Thank you,

The Landlord

They All Sound Alike

Sandy called me earlier this week about Haroldine's home. At the time, she gave me minimal answers (yes and no) and didn't volunteer much more about herself. And, as we all know, the most information a landlord is ever going to get about a tenant is before they sign the lease. Talking to someone interested in my home should be a conversation. Not an inquisition. Needless to say, I wasn't terribly impressed by Sandy.

However, she gave me enough one-word answers that I passed her on to Jack. Jack (who is injured and can barely walk, let alone drive) was going to meet Sandy at Haroldine's Wednesday morning. Much to Jack's and my relief, Sandy changed her mind.  All along, Jack was luke warm on her; I was about the same.

Wednesday, Sandy called me in fits. You see, she changed her mind and called Jack back. Now she wants to see the home. And, she wants to move in this weekend. Jack wouldn't accommodate. "He's prejudice!" she exclaimed.

"Why, are you from Auburn? He is more of an Alabama fan." I replied.

Ok, I really didn't say this.

There really is no answer to someone claiming bigotry. I certainly didn't know she was black. She speaks incoherent Southern as far as I was concerned. Jack never met her either, so he didn't know what color she is. But more likely she was being wishy washy, and that was enough to send up a red flag for Jack.

If Jack hadn't been bothered by this, I would have been. And more to the point, anyone insulting Jack's integrity is enough for me to turn them away. Sandy has told me far more about her in a quick accusation than she had in the previous phone calls. I am done.

Meanwhile

But first, a quick shout out to Busy Mommy, who finished her second round of chemo yesterday. Honey, you make defeating cancer look easy. And, you are totally beautiful even without your long blond hair (it will grow back!).  I really admire your strenght and spirit. Feel better my friend. It will be over soon.

I have Haroldine's home for rent. Additionally, there is some weirdo from Africa also advertising this very same home on Craig's List  for $500 less than my rent. Though this seems cut and dry to me, I am astounded that Craig's List isn't seeing my point and pulling this guy's ad. I thought it would be a piece of cake.

Meanwhile, my Birmingham voice mail is filling up with indignant folks wanting to know why there is a $500 price difference in two different ads. I talked to one lady Tuesday who left her Southern hospitality at home. With that tone of voice, I wouldn't have rented to her anyway.

Meanwhile, on the happy front, there is one really nice lady who took upon herself to play junior sleuth. She called me on Monday to alert me to this guy's ad. Apparently, she then e-mailed this guy on my behalf to see what was going on. On Tuesday she called me back to give me all the information he was passing along (the same e-mail I got when I contacted him and told him to pull the ad). When I innocently approached her to see if she had an interested in actually renting my home, she said no--unless she can have the lower price. However, she thought it looked really nice from the pictures.

And also meanwhile, poor Haroldine has perfect strangers--who think my home is vacant and for rent for some ridiculous price--walking up to her front door, expecting to be let in. That makes me uncomfortable. I can only imagine how Haroldine must feel.

Meanwhile, Jack injured himself a couple of weeks ago and can't drive to show the home anyway. Not that we have any serious lookers. Our pool of potential tenants right now are budget conscious and confused.

This stuff used to keep me up at night, with me thinking of a "Plan B." Now, not so much.

Hopefully Haroldine will just come through with the rent this month without too much drama. I've had my quota.

Scammed

Monday afternoon, I got a phone call from someone about the home Haroldine is living in. It seems she wanted to know why there are two Craig's List ads--$500 apart for the same home. Apparently someone else was advertising my home, with the same pictures.

After a bit of investigating, it turns out, the powers that be do not take lightly this kind of thing. The first order of business was contacting Haroldine. I told her that under no circumstances was anyone to enter her home without Jack. No exceptions. It turns out she saw the ad in Craig's List too. After that was settled, I spent an enormous amount of time contacting anyone who might remotely care about this guy who was advertising my home. Hopefully he will just take down the ad and scurry away.

It is All Perspective

So, Kirby e-mailed me on Friday morning. There was this teensy-tiny problem at the house in Leeds. You see, the gas line had been cut. The situation was going to require the gas company, building permits and some inspector-type from some sort of Leeds Municipal Department to be involved. But, no problem! Kirby was on it.

Before we go any further, let me just say this: I have always wondered why the Springs (the former tenants) were so anxious to leave in such a hurry. They cleaned the place. They let me keep the dishwasher. They offered to let me keep the security deposit (and have not given me a way to contact them to return said deposit). They kept paying the rent when they left until the end of their lease. And, they kissed my hiney on the way out the door. Could it possibly be because Mrs. Spring, a gardener by trade, had accidentally cut the gas line when she was digging up the plants in the yard? Because given the location and proximity to some plants... well, you get the idea.

Don't mind me. I'm just thinking out loud here.

Anyway, back to Kirby. Kirby called me Friday afternoon to throw a curve ball into this. As the master of understatement, he told me he cost for said repair was going to cost "slightly more" than he anticipated. Was that a problem?

Let's see... The cost of fixing a gas leak or the cost of the house exploding? Yep, I'm good.

Strangely, I am at total peace about this situation. I sorta mentally played out this scenario if Kirby hadn't been at the helm. I would have had the exact same issue. With a lot more drama. And, I would have probably been out a lot more money and had a lot more stress.

And, I probably would have written something like this through a wine-induced haze: "It turns out the idiot across the street and his felon daughter were no match for Carolsue, who had been off nicotine for three hours because she was babysitting the gas leak at the Leeds home."

Yea, I'm thinking this isn't too bad.

Today's Awesome Landlord Tip

If you ever find yourself in a position to advertise a home for rent, please be sure to include the correct address.

I'm just saying...

Beware of the Company You Keep

So, Vera called me Tuesday. Actually, she had been calling my Birmingham cell for the past few days, but she never left a message. Finally, she called my Arizona cell. This time I answered it.

You see, Vera wants a place to live. She heard I was the lady with the rental homes and took the time to reach out. I told her about one I have available (Haroldine's) and a few more I am pretty sure are coming available in a few months. The one Haroldine lives in was marginally of interest. You see, Vera' sister lives on that street. Small world.

However, what Vera really wanted was for me to go out and buy a place for her to live. In a particular neighborhood and school district. I explained--in an ever so nice way--that wasn't happening. Even if I screen Vera and decided to take a chance, felt motivated and had the resources, banks aren't lending. This isn't happening.

As we were wrapping up our chat, I asked her how she heard about me. "A friend gave me your number," she innocently said.

When I inquired "Who might that be?" Vera immediately began stammering and finally threw out that she just wasn't sure. I pressed a bit longer just to hear Vera tell me she had my number for a while. She knows lots of people and it could have been anybody. And, my personal favorite, "You know, Birmingham is a big place. I just don't keep track of what people tell me."

Good enough for me. I know everything I want to know.

Tax Day

Today is tax day. Yes, really. If you have a corporation, Uncle Sam wants to see your tax return by March 15.

I would like to tell you that this is a simple process, involving Bliz, Diamond Jim and myself. And, if all parties do their job, this does seem to work. Except when it doesn't.

Several weeks ago Bliz sadistically sent me e-mails, financial documents and this funny report called "Gobbledygood Blah Blah Transaction Somethingorother." She politely and professionally asked me to look it over and answer a few questions.

And I ignored it. Ok, not exactly "ingnore;" I just didn't know what to do with it. So, a few days later I asked Bliz. She repeated her directive, again patiently explaining what she needed from me.

Last Saturday, I felt unparalyzed enough to check out this one more time and came to the conclusion: I needed to call Diamond Jim and confess all: I was holding up the process. I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for. Please help me CPA; you are my only hope.
Sadly, the IRS really doesn't care if I put this off until 96 hours before it needs to be filed--as long as they get what they want out of the whole deal. However, Diamond Jim did. He sorta told me in a kindly, guilt-induced way so Saturday afternoon. I swear, his disapproval hurt worse than whatever the IRS could possibly have done to me.

A Bonafied Craig's List Scam

I work in a real estate office with this delightful couple. Part of their duties is to handle the showings for my office's property management division. Hence, they bring in a renter for property management's vacant homes.

Additionally, these vacant rental homes are on the greater Phoenix multiple listing service, complete with pictures and lovely descriptions consisting of "neutral colored tile," "spacious bedrooms" and "move-in ready." Any agent who belongs to the multiple listing service can show these properties, but most don't unless they are desperate, crazy, totally professional and don't mind spending six hours of their Saturday with someone with less than optimal circumstances trying to find the landlord willing to rent to the folks who have three rottweilers... But, I digress...

And, to top this all off, rental homes right now in the East Valley (a part of Metro Phoenix) right now are going fast. Like sight unseen fast. Currently I am desperate, crazy, totally professional enough to be working with two sets of tenants (one has a guinea pig). Every rental home we see already has an application on it. Both sets of clients know any application they put in will be a back-up application. That's how crazy the rental market is out here.

But, back to this delightful couple. Last Saturday the Delights got a frantic call from the tenants they had placed in a rental home. The tenants had just pulled the moving van into the driveway of their new home just in time for another moving truck and another tenant to pull into the drive way right behind them.

Apparently both couples thought they were moving in. Both had a lease to prove it. In the case of the correct couple--my colleague's folks--it was theirs to rent. Enjoy. Move in. Make yourselves at home!

The second couple was a bit more disappointed. You see, they answered an ad in Craig's List. Someone (presumably claiming to be a real estate agent) met them at this particular home, showed them the home and gave them the application. These people returned the application, paid the first month's rent and the security deposit (all in a cashier's check) and were told the house was theirs. Enjoy. Move In. Make yourselves at home! Sadly they were scammed.

Hopefully it won't take too long to find this couple a home again--if they don't have a rottweiler. And lately,  that seems for us agents who are handling rentals, is half the battle.

Astonished

Marty Sunshine came home for lunch the other day with a suspect envelope. Though I hadn't asked him, he had swung by the post office box on his way home.

"What is that?" I asked, eyeing the envelope sitting on my counter, like it was a scorpion covered in slime.

"It looks like a rent check from Ms. Kathy." He said in such a way that he considers this a typical every month occurrence.

I held my breath as I opened it, knowing for sure there would be some sort of letter, explaining why she only sent me a partial rent payment. Instead, I found a full rent payment and no excuses.

Is it too early to suggest--with a track record of five months of perfect behavior (out of 26 months) that Ms. Kathy is off my Problem Tenant list?

Show Me Some Skin

Though she has a few months left, I have agreed if she keeps the place clean and lets me advertise it, I am willing to let Haroldine out of her lease. And, just to prove I am totally swell with this idea, I have started advertising this lovely home for rent.

This is the house Jack and I own together. Therefore, Kirby isn't involved in tenant placement. This is good and bad. It is good because I am not paying a property manager. It is bad because Jack simply hates property management. As an example: I am 1,700 miles from this house. Jack is in the same city. I am the one dealing with Haroldine. Jack, however, will be expected to show the home once we find someone worthy, but that is about as far as that goes.

This past week I ran a quick ad on Craig's List for this home. One of the big annoyances about Craig's List's ads is the lack of ability to qualify the people interested in possibly renting. If they call, I can chat with them, find out their life story. I can find out if they plan on using the home as a breeding ground for king cobras or if they intend to have 17 children residing with them.

In an e-mail, I am pretty much stuck with a few basics. The actual qualifying takes place after they see the house. This is a huge waste of time for me, but it works well for potential tenants. They have no skin in the game. 

This past week I got an e-mail from Char. Her e-mail came from (presumably) her employer's domain. Her e-mail was polite. She wrote in complete sentences and had decent subject-verb agreement. A dream come true. She asked intelligent questions. How big is the house? Does it have gas? And, when could she see it?

I answered as I do under these circumstances. "I am currently out of town, but please contact my business partner Jack to see it." Generally this isn't a problem. Char seemed to think otherwise.

Apparently Char is concerned about "scams" and felt my answers lessened my credibility. In fact, she was willing to wait until I got back into town before she went any further.

My first inclination was to give Char my credentials, explaining this wasn't a scam and I really am a landlord. But, on further reflection, there is no reason to lay everything on the line. I know nothing about Char either. I did tell her how Marty Sunshine, Jack and I own the home and clarified about our geographic locations. I gave her my cell if she wanted to call. And, I gave her Attorney Jon's number to verify all is what I say it is. I haven't heard back.

In a landlord-tenant relationship, there is a contract to protect both parties' interests. But aside from that, there needs to be a certain amount of trust. So far, Char doesn't trust me. She has made that clear. And, when I think about it, I am not entirely sure I wish to move forward with someone I have to work so hard to win over--long before I have qualified her. After all, I have no skin in the game either.

Leeding The Way

Kirby found out more about The Mom With The Job. First, her boyfriend (who will be going on the lease) has a job. Second, her four kids range in age from marginally little to middle-sized. I can't decide which would bother me more: teenagers or middle-sized kids. In any case, I wasn't enchanted.

The truth is, nobody who lives here will enchant me. I have had six tenants in this home through the course of time. None of them were anyone I ever want to meet again. With the exception of Mrs. Spring, none of them were very tidy. Most of them were obnoxious. And, to top it off, I am pretty much convinced that anyone who willingly wants to live in this super-cute home in Leeds Alabama isn't really going to be the kind of person I want to rent to in the first place.

Yes, I know, location, location, location. But I don't have a wayback machine to fix this and incidentally, when there is a paying tenant in place, this house cashflows. I just don't like the emotional baggage that seems to follow anyone willing to live in Leeds.

I explained to Kirby on Monday that I had some reservations about four kids living in this home. I have to tell you, my reservations are courtesy of the last tenant (seriously? she didn't think to clean off the peanut butter on the walls?). I also told him that I am not sure anyone really will really make me happy. I secretly believe Kirby had already came to that conclusion but was too polite to say so.

What we did decide, was to write the lease with an inspection clause. Someone--whether Kirby or Carolsue--will go over and inspect the property from time to time. Even if I never exercise this, I want the tenant on notice. Peanut butter is for sandwiches only. (By the way, I happen to have this clause in my personal lease as well).

Kirby seemed to think this was reasonable solution and said he could see my point. After all, he said he is used to dealing with crazies. "I am sure the tenants must drive you nuts sometimes too." I replied.

He Had Me At "Bank Account"

In a perfect world, the home in Leeds would be rented with low-maintenance, quiet tenants who just pay when they are supposed to. But instead, I am once again looking for someone who marginally fits this bill.

Kirby, who understands my quest, has been tasked with finding someone qualified. And, I have to tell you my standards are low. I more or less want breathing and employed. Thankfully Kirby seems to have found someone to meet the minimum.

The latest potential renter to come our way is The Mom With A Job. The Mom With A Job is some sort of manager. She has been at her job for years. She has income and child support.  In fact, child support alone should cover a good portion of the rent. Additionally nobody in her home smokes and there are no pets.

The Mom With A Job apparently has just recently gone through a messy divorce. Her house was one of the casualties to this, as well as her credit. However, she has been current on her bills.

The only pressing issue right now is that The Mom With A Job has four kids. I am not sure that is something I want to take on again. I need more information before I decide about this. The last time more than two children resided in this home there was peanut butter and black marker on every wall. I am not sure I am up for that just yet.

However, just to sweeten the pot, Kirby did give me a another tid-bit to make her attractive. According to Kirby, she has a bank account. "Do they allow people with bank accounts to live in Leeds?" I asked.

"I won't tell if you won't." Kirby replied.

The Mom With A Job also has a live-in boyfriend. "Does he work too?" I asked.

"I don't think so. I think he is on disability. He is missing an arm." Kirby answered soberly. I respectfully bit my tongue--I am sure he is quite lovely. (I am not making fun of this man's plight, but really! Is it wise for one armed men to live in Leeds? Just imagine the cliche's alone.)

The Mom With A Job liked the house--even before the carpets were cleaned. I can't tell if this is a sign of desperation or a lack of standards on her part. The house really is cute--when the floors are clean. And if her kids are super-cute (and I am hoping I am not violating some federal fair housing law here), I might be willing to go forward.

An Easy Solution

Back in the olden days when I was writing proposals, I would get into philosophical debates with my colleagues about this particularly tired phrase: "We provide customized solutions to fit your needs."

As much as I disliked that phrase a gazillion years ago, I really disdain it now. And worse, it appears my colleagues have all now moved to prominent New York advertising agencies, because that cliche' is just about everywhere.

As a landlord, I don't want to provide customized solutions. I want to provide a home. My solution is for my tenant to pay the rent and leave me alone. As some of you might remember, I once had a tenant who asked me how she was supposed to pay the rent if she had the pay the electric bill. She was  seriously looking to me to solve her problem. My solution was for her to move.

This past week Haroldine and I have gone around in circles, with me totally understanding her situation. But it doesn't change the reality: Haroldine can't afford the home she lives in. I just don't have the patience to play along any more.

The Haroldine drama came to a head this past week, with me loosing my cool on her twice. It was warranted. She knew it. I knew it. I get it. Times are tough. And frankly, she isn't making it easier on anyone by staying. In fact, when she lamented on Thursday, that she couldn't "count on anyone." I pointed out I could sympathize--I was right then and there experiencing that exact same issue.


But I did offer her a solution: she needed to move. In fact, I was feeling so magnanimous, that I offered to put the house up for rent and let her continue renting until a suitable replacement tenant could be found. At that point, Haroldine could move and the replacement could move in. And, if we went this route, Haroldine was only responsible for the rent up through when the new tenant moved in.

This is definitely a solution customized to fit my needs.

Incurring the Wrath

Now, in the event I haven't exactly explained this fully, sweet Ms. Angie has a super-thick Southern drawl. And, when she is upset, she tends to speed up that drawl and throw in colloquialisms to the point where I am totally sure she has something important to say. But, I never exactly know what it is, with me only catching the all important words: "rent check." As she is doing this, I am left half-wondering if her angst is directed at me and if I should be cowering in fear.

On Monday, it was one of those Ms. Angie is upset days. You see, her rent check hadn't arrived. I knew this on Saturday. But, Saturday I was way too preoccupied with hugging my family and unpacking my socks to care much. My intention was to take care of it Monday.

Ms. Angie beat me to it. Of course, Ms. Angie (as much as I adore her--and I do), like most of my tenants hasn't quite grasped the concept of time zones. So, the call came at an hour advantageous to her. Couple that with the aforementioned speech challenges and you can have a mental picture of me in my jammies repeatedly muttering "yes ma'am" to something I am not quite sure I am understanding.

When the dust settled and she and I were communicating properly, it turns out she wanted to know if I had received her rent. She had noticed the check hadn't been cashed.

You see, it turns out she and the postman had a scrape recently and none of her bills are getting to their respective parties. Me included. Ms. Angie (apparently) is none-too-pleased about this particular situation.

So, she was going to mosey on down to the post office and have a word with the postmaster. If I were the postmaster, I would be afraid.

How's the Weather?

But first... sending out love to Busy Mommy, who starts chemo today.

In some ways, this Alabama trip was a bit more unnerving than previous visits.

Last Thursday night I experienced my first tornado (we don't have these "tornado things" in Arizona). The wind sounded light a freight train rumbling through the sky. I was on the top floor of the hotel and I was almost certain at one point the roof was going to come off. I could feel the walls shaking and in the distance I heard the tornado sirens. At one point I bravely looked out the window to see debris swirling and then went back to bed, a bit more disturbed than I expected, and hid under the blankets until sleep set in sometime much later.

One of the absolute bright spots to come out of this trip was getting squared away with Kirby. The house in Leeds is done (sans the coffee-ground carpet) and now needs to get a tenant. I actually like this moment in the landlord business. It is the moment of hope.

When I saw Kirby briefly Thursday night I had a quick, and yet frank discussion with him. For my part, I explained I don't do well to have really, really important issues glossed over--like him telling me the former Leeds tenants left "a few housekeeping things" that needed to be taken care of. Tell it like it is!

So he did. Kirby looked towards the sky, as we stood in the hotel parking lot that evening, and commented that it looked like tornado weather. And I know he didn't gloss over anything with that statement.