That's How He Rolls

I heard from Mario on Tuesday. It looks like he has an application for my house on Hysteria Lane. He managed to get it rented in less than two months, and in December--the worst month for finding a renter.

Oh yea. He totally rocks.

In Other News...

Along with Ms. Shirley, on Monday, I sent a rare text to Ms. Angie asking where my rent happened to be. It isn't rare to text Ms. Angie, as I prefer communicating with her this way. I actually understand what she is saying. It is rare Ms. Angie is late on the rent.

What I got back was a text from Ms. Angie, telling me rent was going to be late because she had used part of it to buy Christmas presents for her grandchildren. My reply was, "What a coincidence! I was going to use that same money to pay the mortgage on your home."

In no less than 47 seconds after I sent the text I received a frantic call from Ms. Angie. I believe she was apologizing and explaining I would see rent this week, but I can't be sure. She said something about being sorry but the rest was lost in the translation. I just cannot decipher Southern black woman when Ms. Angie is upset.

When things seemed to be square between us, Ms. Angie then started talking very quickly again with her thick drawl. She did this for another 15 minutes or so, with the only words I completely and utterly understood were "drive-by shooting" and "next door."

Yep. No mistaking that.

I am certain she told me nobody was hurt and the folks were caught. Or at least relatively certain. I might text her later just to be sure.

The Games Ms. Shirley Plays

As far as tenants go, Ms. Shirley is acceptable. She keeps the place in good shape. She doesn't have pets. My biggest complaint about her is the once a month game of getting my rent check. I half-wonder if she gets some sort of satisfaction out of me calling and hunting down what is legally owed. 

Ms. Shirley is one of those who knows more than she lets on. Once in a while, she will say something out of the blue about one of my homes--actually mentioning the location by the street name, giving me the distinct impression she is stalking me. Or, she would be if I was living closer. However, I have often wondered if she has found this blog. It wouldn't surprise me, given some of the things she has let slip over the course of several years and her slight fascination with my business.

So, if Ms. Shirley is reading this today, this one's for you. Or, it is about whomever now has your phone number--the same phone number you have had for four years.

I sent a text out to Ms. Shirley today asking when I can expect December's rent. It isn't as if this is a new concept to her: I ask every month because she can't be bothered pay on time or volunteer the information on a regular basis. However, this time I got a reply back asking who wanted to know. When I replied, "the landlord" I got another text feigning registering confusion. My reply was, "I'm not in the mood for this today."

Now then, if I hadn't spent several hours prior paying bills and coming up with creative ways to make Kirby pay for his inability to rent out my homes, I might have been in a better frame of mind. But I did spend the morning juggling around this and that to make sure property taxes were covered. And, I did spend the morning googling how to make this (for Kirby). And I really, really wasn't in the mood for games.

I would be willing to give Ms. Shirley the benefit of the doubt, that perhaps she had changed her phone number, if the person who texted me back had identified themselves as NOT Ms. Shirley. Or, if the person who has the number I have always associated with Ms. Shirley hadn't called five times in a row immediately after I sent my text.

Or, if I hadn't gotten an e-mail from Ms. Shirley telling me when rent was coming less than three minutes after I had received five phone hang-ups in a row.

That's not an odd coincidence is it?

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way to the Zen Garden

I haven't written of late, because I have been focused on other things that are not in Alabama. Some of it is real estate. Some of it is life itself. And then there is the fact Sue Grafton's latest novel hit the book stores (it was awesome by the way).

And of course, there has been nothing new worth writing about. All is status quo. More or less, with the more irritating items on my Alabama agenda sending me into a frenzy and then to my happy place to chill out for a bit before I can rejoin civilization.

This past week I found out that Kirby has known for a month that he needed the gas turned on for an inspection at the home he supposedly found a renter for. So, there is no renter at this time. And, the inspection still hasn't happened. The first he mentioned it to me was two days ago. Actually, he mentioned it to Marty Sunshine, completely bypassing me. I think this is because he might find me to be a tad bit of a loose cannon when he tells me he dropped the ball.

In all fairness to Kirby, I didn't yell at him. I left a politely bitchy message explaining that I was confused he was now bringing this to our attention--after knowing about this for the past four weeks and don't we have a property management company that is supposed to turn on the gas for us? And could he please clarify my confusion. Because there are nothing left to tend to in my zen garden/happy place and I am on the brink of a stresss-induced aneurysm.

And for those who are wondering why Kirby is still employed by me, it is simply because Mario hasn't proven himself any better--though, he does talk a better talk. Mario does return phone calls. Mario gives feedback. But Mario hasn't rented out my home on Hysteria Lane up to this point. Of course, it could be the time of year. But essentially, Mario hasn't earned the rest of my business.

For the past two days, Marty Sunshine has been calling the gas company and can't seem to get a live person on the phone. It looks like the gas won't be turned on until at least next week. And soon thereafter will be asking Mario to earn his keep and rent out Hysteria Lane so I can transfer everything else over to him and head back to my happy place.

Magic Words

So... I was working my "y'all" job Saturday--the job where I get yelled at by folks with poor planning skills who need trucks right now but didn't think to call in weeks ahead of time when they first found out they would be moving speak with people from all over the country, helping them reserve white and orange moving trucks.

That job.

Anyway, a woman from Alabama called. She was brisk and borderline snotty. And, she certainly wasn't in the mood for me to run through my script--even though I do it anyway because I am addicted to a paycheck. When she told me she was from Tuscaloosa, I automatically said, "roll tide."

She responded in same and the conversation went from snarky caller to a woman who wanted to invite me over for Sunday dinner. And yes, she reserved a truck.

Does Hallmark Make A Card For This?

Ms. Angie graduates from college today. Ms. Angie will also be celebrating Christmas in a few weeks. After that, she will watch her favorite football team (presumably) win the BSC College championship (roll tide!). After that she will celebrate her birthday, her children and grand children will also celebrate birthdays. Then there will be Christmas all over again.

And my gift to her, for all those events and many more to come is a new roof.

To Be Fair, If She Had Just Texted, "Roll Tide" I Wouldn't Have Raised an Suspicious Eyebrow

I got Ms. Kathy's rent check on Tuesday. I skeptically looked it over, wondering what could possibly be wrong with it. It was a cashier check--something I have forced her to resort to years ago. It was for the right amount. But it didn't stop me from muttering, "What is wrong with this?"

Apparently nothing.
I guess she really wanted to say Merry Christmas after all.

Roll Tide

I would like to tell you this is an exaggeration.

But it isn't.

Why am I Suspicious?

Remember Ms. Kathy?

For those of you who are new here to Sage Business, Ms, Kathy is my tenant who has been living in my home for three or four years now (I don't remember which). She only calls on the Friday of a three day weekend to tell me about some pending disaster which will immediately need a plumber or electrician to handle.

For a very long time, she would send me e-mails, long after the rent was due, making up some sorry excuse as to why she didn't have the money she owed me. One such excuse involved using her rent money to bail her brother out of jail. After several months of me cursing her name and Carolsue cursing her face, I got sick of the whole thing and let her have it. I used big words and essentially got it through her brain I was done with her shenanigans.

Since then, she has more or less behaved herself. I think there was an occasion last summer where she gave me heart palpitations for a week or so, but for the most part, Ms. Kathy and I have managed to co-exist with her paying the rent more or less on time and me being happy about it. We don't talk, chat or e-mail. Rent comes with some regularity and I cash the check. Its a very peaceful, low maintenance and high-functioning relationship as far as I am concerned.

So then, imagine my surprise when I got a text from her Saturday. She just wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas and tell me she mailed off the rent.

That was it. No broken faucet. No electrical fire. No crazed former tenant was breaking in wanting to come come in and pine for his former home.

No nothing.

Just Merry Christmas.

Accurate and Utterly Useless

There is some old joke about a man in a hot air balloon asking for directions. He frantically calls down to someone on the ground, asking where he is, and the guy on the ground replies with something like, "You are in a hot air balloon." A completely accurate and utterly useless answer.

This past week, Ms. Angie had a roof leak. I don't have a roofing person. Carolsue, my Alabama go-to girl, doesn't have a roofing person. Mr. 114 doesn't live very close, and hasn't answered my call for help just yet (hopefully he will). But, in the mean-time I asked Kirby if he had a roofing person who could help us out.

His reply, "yes, give me the address and I will send him out to the house."

All accurate, and utterly useless. I would actually like to speak to this person, get an idea of his rates, coordinate a time for Ms. Angie to meet him there to take care of this. I don't want him showing up without my tenant knowing. My fault for not clearly explaining: do you have a roofing person I can speak with and coordinate an inspection with?

I'd ask Kirby again, but it is probably more expeditious to just wait for Mr. 114 to call me back.

I've Heard It All Before

If I had to give a list of top three least favorite tenants, Mr. Smith would be on there. Depending upon my mood and my criteria for the day, he vacillates between the ranks, but usually ends up third--only because he is the only one of the three who probably didn't commit a felony in my home.

Just for the record, I am not saying the other two did commit felonies. We are clear on that. Right???

However, Mr. Smith is the one I absolutely liked the least. Mr. Smith annoyed me to no end. He would call me on a regular basis to tell me I'm great, offer me building supplies and construction services I didn't want or need, and in general ran up my cell minutes with me trying to get him off the phone. This happened about once a month, whether I wanted to hear from him or not.

Mr. Smith could talk a good talk. And I suspect he always had the best of intentions. But he is one of those people who has big plans and bigger excuses. The only consistent thing about Mr. Smith was that he promised what he wasn't able to deliver. I was thrilled to get him out of my life--even if he did just move across the street. Unfortunately he made me go to court to do it.

And, when I went to court that fateful day I told the judge what he owed me and it is now a matter of public record. Where ever Mr. Smith goes, that will follow. And from what I understand, it is following.

Thursday night, I was checking my e-mail found a friendly note from Mr. Smith. He inquired about mine and my family's well-being and then he slipped in that he wants to make good on his judgement. And oh yes! He misses his Ms. Kathy's house. And by the way, he reproduced again. Another boy.

I sent the letter directly to Legal Eagle for her amusement, because that is all it will be. I am guessing if he has a job, a garnishment is possible. But I doubt he will 1) follow through with the job and 2) follow through with the garnishment.