My Fifteen Minutes of Larceny

Approximately 67 minutes on December 23, after Bliz left on Christmas holiday trip to a very cold, Midwestern city, the mortgage company contacted us and gave us new demands. This, for those new readers, is the mortgage company which called due a second mortgage they hold for my home in North Centerpoint AND the same mortgage company which has decided to modify, then deny, then modify a first mortgage we have on the home in Chalkville.

Aren't you glad I caught you up so you won't be confused?

Anyway, what they wanted was more profit loss statements from me for the month of November and December. Mind you, we had already already given them this document back in November, and if they had just modified the loan back then, WE WOULD BE DONE WITH THIS NONSENSE.
But I digress...

Anyway, Bliz was on her way to some cold, windy, frozen Midwest city ready to enjoy her holiday, which didn't coincide with the bank's deadline of December 26. So, as I reported this to her she just texted back and said, "I will be home late Sunday night." Though I was frustrated with the idiots at the mortgage company, I was not really excited about Bliz spending her holiday helping me out with this last minute request anyway. Nobody else should have to deal with this fire drill.

Out of reasonable options, I sat down and started thinking about other solutions. Not to be deterred--after all, in the days before Photoshop I was pretty handy with layout and design. I optimistically took the old profit loss statement from November, put white-out tape on the dates and said to Marty Sunshine, "Yep, this will fool them." Mind you, the numbers hadn't changed, but we are talking about underwriters here. Surely they don't pay attention to such detail.

Unfortunately, we will never find out if underwriters do or do not pay attention to such detail. It turns out I am no longer handy with layout and design and the documents looked forged. So, we didn't submit them. Instead we sent back every other scrap of paper the mortgage company asked for, sans the P&Ls. This will not make them happy. But then again, nobody else is very happy about this either.

Make It Stop

The Alabama Department of Revenue just got around to noticing my now-defunct accidental business hasn't paid them any money in more than two years. They are apparently unhappy about that and took the time to write me a letter, expressing just how disappointed they truly are.

Never mind that when we closed our doors we told them the company was no longer around. Never mind that I responded to their first request for money six months after we went belly-up with another copy of our last tax returns showing that we are indeed no longer in business. Nope. They waited until the end of 2014, dusting off our file just to tell me, "We want your money. Now."

This time I just wrote on the envelope, "Return to sender. This company does not exist at this address." Perhaps the message will start to sink in.

Busywork

Marty did indeed get in touch with someone at the mortgage company. Sadly, the first customer service rep was probably lamenting being fired for being too friendly in her former job at the local Motor Vehicle Department. As it was explained to Marty, the bank wouldn't have denied his loan modification if he had just sent in the paperwork they asked for.

"I am under the impression we turned in everything that was asked for," Marty innocently stated.

"Well, you didn't. We sent you another letter asking for more," replied Miss Congeniality.

When Marty said he did not have another letter in our files and neither he, nor I, remember seeing another letter. All this savvy future diplomat said was, "That's not my problem. We sent it to you."

Twenty minutes and another customer service representative later, our file was re-opened and Marty was given yet another set of demands required of us. Mind you, none of this would be necessary if the bank hadn't called the loan due. They are causing our busywork. All of it.

And, because there is still some rain forest left, the bank has decided to "help" us and is (without our consent or knowledge) modifying another mortgage we have with them. They are requiring more paperwork from us, and could we please do this as soon as possible? Thanks. It also turns out saying, "This is utterly unnecessary, please leave this mortgage alone. We are fine," is not an option.

The second home in question--the one where the mortgage company randomly decided we needed to change the terms of our loan--is in the LLC Marty and I own without a partner. Though I received a denial letter from them last Friday--the first I heard this home's mortgage was under scrutiny--they are apparently only modifying this loan as a favor to us. However, I am not sure what exactly the "favor" is in this case. At any rate I stand corrected: they did not call this loan due. However, I am not sure what it means when they have already "denied" a loan modification for a home that does not need one, nor where we asked for any type of changes. What happens if they deny us again? Where does that leave this particular mortgage on this new home?

Fast forward a couple of days. All of the subsequent paperwork the mortgage company has asked for has now--again--been faxed to them. I did suggest to Marty that he may want to explain to them that if they had not bothered us to begin with, none of this would have been an issue.

Denial

I may have mentioned we had a mortgage called due?  I received this love letter from the mortgage company today telling me what they really think. 

Despite the fact we sent them our tax returns on three separate occasions, Bliz jumped through a ton of hoops to take care of some financials they asked for and Marty and I have provided them with our private bank statements, business bank statements and DNA samples from our fathers, it wasn't good enough.

And to add insult to injury, this bank has now called due another mortgage on a different home. For the record, we pay our mortgages on time. We do what we are supposed to do. And apparently that isn't good enough.

Lunch with Mr. Partner

The American Medical Association recommends adults over a certain age get a colonoscopy every ten years as part of an overall wellness and healthy-living lifestyle. I believe this is also the same guidelines for me meeting with Mr. Partner.

Last week, I spent a few hours writing up a State-Of-Our-Alabama-Nonsense report. I carefully took time to put in lots of information, including but not limited to, the second mortgage we are trying to convince the bank to let us refinance, the flood at my Section 8 house and a litany of other items that I have just not had the lining stomach to write about.

Though I loathed doing so, instead of letting Marty Sunshine meet with Mr. Partner and discuss my fabulous report, I opted to tag along, figuring Mr. Partner hadn't bothered to even glance at my hard efforts. Marty was encouraged by this, given I would be a fresh voice, provided I could hold off the snark--which I wasn't promising.

The main item on our agenda was that I wanted money. Let me back up, we pay our home owner's insurance in July out of pocket. Property Taxes are due, also out of pocket, at the end of December. Additionally there are a few other bills that deserve some attention by the end of the year. Since 2008, all parties have had to put a few dollars in here and there, with Marty Sunshine and I putting in money first and Mr. and Mrs. Partner matching us when we get around to telling them it is time. This generally results in Mr. Partner being completely astonished this venture isn't profitable and citing some completely obscure 2007 scenario which will include us being in the black. Mr. Partner will then be reminded that 1) 2007 was many years ago, 2) we changed our business strategies when the housing market took a dive and restrictive owner-financing laws took affect, as a result we are now dealing with vacancies and turnovers, and 3) we go through this ever year and it should not come as a shock.

Generally when we have these conversations with Mr. Partner, he is not open to selling any home  where we won't make a stellar profit. In all fairness, he isn't keen on vacancies, repairs or property management companies either. Somehow last week I managed to convince him that it is in our best interest to sell a few undesirable properties. On the list were a couple of homes that just don't cash flow. Though we don't want to sell them all at once, for fear of capital gains issues. Not that I am expecting him to remember, he did also acquiesce to a few capital improvements. In the end, I got the exact item I came for: a check from him, so that I don't have to figure out where I was going to get the money to pay the property taxes. And hopefully I won't have to attend another meeting with him for an additional 10 years. 

What I Discovered Two Weeks Ago

I know there are several readers who have a pressing desire to know this tid-bit. In Birmingham Alabama, in order to have a "gas pressure test" done at a home, one has to get permits from the city.

As of Today, 121 Days.

Last week I found a handy-dandy site on the Internet, which will conveniently tell me precisely how many days until April 6, 2015. For those who do not know the enormity of that particular day, it happens to be the Diamondback's opening day (they play San Francisco, for anyone who might keep up on such things). It also happens to be the day before Carolsue's birthday--so please start your shopping now.

Let's just say, that's what kind of Alabama week I was having. Lucky for you three readers it means a month or two worth of blogs while I try to sober catch up.

Every home I have has some sort of memorable tenant in them. Most of whom have received a nod or two in this blog. One of my more memorable "tenants" was a woman who received keys for the rental home and a notice from her doctor to proceed directly to the hospital and not to pass "Go" within an hour of each other. The tenant had an emergency double mastectomy and never moved in. Last I heard, by the way, the non-tenant survived.

I have a home in North Centerpoint. At one time it was Wayward's home, who was asked to leave. At another point, Ms. Robin lived there and moved to somewhere else. Then it was vacant and the economy was icky and I begrudgingly agreed to take a Section 8 tenant, whom is still there. I have been unhappy with this arrangement since the get-go.

In 2011, Kirby and I toured this home to find out that this tenant had a new Cadillac Escalade and a new Chevy Suburban. Though she didn't have a job or any outside obligations, both of her small children were in all-day childcare, leaving her to bask in the luxury of of her fine furnishings and amazingly exorbitant electronics. The day Kirby and I viewed this home, I commented that I don't live nearly this well. "She doesn't own anything in the home," he replied. "I have rental places calling me all the time tracking her down." And my ulcer grew larger.

Fast-forward to 2014. Luigi is now my property manager and Ms. Section 8 has repeatedly called him, threatening to move out if I don't "honor my word," which she states, ranges from me agreeing to (in 2011) to painting the house to installing new flooring--which, by the way, was installed in 2010. About once a month, she lords this over me, as some sort of veiled threat. Frankly, she did this to Kirby for years as well.

In this past October she called Luigi complaining her home was filled with an infestation of roaches, and what was I going to do about it? I replied back by saying she might want to get some bug spray. She then sicced the Section 8 people on me making the home somewhat uninhabitable and the Section 8 folks then said they weren't going to pay the rent on the property unless I made some repairs that she caused. At that point, I asked Luigi's folks just to send her a note asking her to move at the end of her lease.

I guess she didn't expect that.

As much as I wish I could tell you the story ends here, it doesn't.

On Thursday, Luigi's maintenance guy called me. He started out by introducing himself, which I thought was odd, because 1) we have talked numerous times this year and 2) his name came up on my phone as someone I had programmed in there. For about 10 minutes he beat around the bush, telling me there was "water leaking" out of a shower at Ms. Section 8's house and what did I want to do about it.

"Isn't she moving out?" I asked. "Can't we fix it when she is gone?"

His response was to repeat his comment, each time a bit more condescending, letting me know that I, the little woman, just wasn't grasping that water was dripping. I finally got sick of this particular game on the third go-round and directed him to call Marty Sunshine.

What Maintenance Guy managed to convey to Marty was really that a pipe broke inside the wall, Ms. Section 8 was barking about "toxic mold" and was threatening to leave if I didn't fix it right then and there. Marty authorized to get it fixed, but I did let Maintenance Guy guy know in the future he wouldn't have to jump through as many hoops if he had just been straight with me.

Also on Thursday, I discussed many, many, things with Luigi, including Ms. Section 8. Apparently, there was some talk from her that she wants to stay. There was much ranting from me that she HAS TO GO.

If Ms. Section 8 doesn't leave the home in the same condition she found it, then she doesn't have a voucher for the next landlord who wants her--which means she doesn't get free money. I'm ok with that too. This was my first, and hopefully last, foray into Section 8 housing. I was getting less than market rent and there are a lot of hoops to jump through. Here's hoping to a winning season with the next tenant.

Hysteria Lane Update

My home on Hysteria Lane is still vacant. To refresh your memory, I had a tenant who flooded my kitchen last February. The tenant was at fault for the damage, but still felt that I owed her a reduction in rent because the poor thing was inconvenienced for three days while the kitchen cabinet dried out. Mind you, she still had full use of the home. The entire incident was more expensive than the cost of your run-of-the-mill nuclear warhead. Fortunately I have insurance which covered most of it.

Because of this, the tenant stormed out in early July, never to be heard from again. At the time Mario was managing this rental. And frankly, he was doing a piss-poor job. In one month the home had been shown one time, with Mario telling me it was totally my fault it wasn't rented. After all, if I would just lower the rent to something obscenely stupid--even though for the past 10 years I had always gotten about $400 more a month--it would rent in a week.

In a moment of total bliss, I fired Mario and his minions last August and gave the home to Luigi.

In the past four months, I have gotten several applications on this home. Each one more questionable than the last. I finally asked Luigi's flunky (I am too tired to re-name these dudes right now) to only give me applications that were better than the first idiots I rejected.
'
And when I say these potential tenants were "idiots" please understand, this is no exaggeration. One set actually lied on the application, including, but not limited to, not wanting to give her current landlord's phone number. When Flunky found the landlord, we discovered why: the idiot had been late on rent ever month. Next.

Another wanted $200 off the rent in exchange for a two year lease. Please do the math: I should take a $2400 reduction in rent for the privilege of letting these folks live in my home. I might have considered some type of incentive (half a month's off one time, perhaps?) if they hadn't been a train wreck on paper. I couldn't keep track of the number of people who would be living in this home or their questionable employment.

The latest applicant sounds somewhat sane. However, the husband has a sizable child support judgement stemming back to 2001. But, the couple was kind enough to tell the truth on the application, make decent money (three times the rent) and provide reasonable references. The good news is he won't be buying a home any time soon and--if approved, mind you--that might keep them staying there for a while.

Two Out Of Three Readers Just Can't Be Wrong

Well, two of my three readers this week innocently asked me where I had been. Here's the truth: I originally started this blog many years ago with Bliz in mind. She was my imaginary reader. (She is also my bookkeeper.) Then one day many years ago when I was feeling slightly vulnerable, I told her about this site. And, for about a year, she was my only reader. This was back in the olden days of the 2000s.

Technology being what it is, I now pretty much communicate with Bliz every day. However, we rarely talk about Alabama. Frankly, I have been avoiding Alabama (until this week) and would much rather discuss boys with her (nothing has really changed in the past 30+ years--except our "boys" are currently 16 and 12).

The other reason--and this one is slightly more of a concern, is that Marty Sunshine did something to my computer, making it necessary to hire a shaman and for me to become proficient in technological mumbo-jumbo in order to log into this site. If you are reading this blog, it means the money paid to the shaman was well spent--which is good, because I need my blog-therapy right now more than ever.

To ease you back into the drama of my accidental business, the mortgage that was called due a few months ago, is still called due. Although Marty and I have sent over everything they have requested to the bank, including a DNA sample from our cat, we are getting stupid requests from these folks. Now they want to see more papers. Though we sent them our tax statements for the past three years, they want to see them again. But this time, they want us to sign them. "They are signed," I pointed out to Marty. "We had to sign them when they were filed. Where are we supposed to put this new signature?"

He didn't have an answer to that.

The mortgage company also wants to see bank statements to bank accounts we don't have. Of course, the sane course of action would be to call the person who is requesting these items and explain their demands are slightly unreasonable and downright silly. But we aren't given a name, phone number or any type of distinguishing characteristics to find said, "mortgage representative." We are given a fax number, and asked to kindly turn in the papers of their choosing right about now. So, tomorrow I will fax over whatever they are asking for to make them happy--or at least what will make them be somewhat agreeable.

I really am not feeling totally reasonable right now. Personally, I would like to include in my communications, what exactly happens if we don't comply with their demands? However, Marty is asking me not to mention this little item. He is suggesting it might be a teensy bit argumentative, perhaps it is because I use a slightly more colorful vocabulary when he and I broach this topic in the privacy of our home. 

Here is my G-rated reasoning for my question. The mortgage company can't take the house. This is a second mortgage. All they can do is put a lien on the property--which they already have in the form of a mortgage to begin with. So, even if we jump through these hoops and they are unsatisfied, I am pretty sure we will be at a stalemate.

In Other News

I am told I finally have my Grayson Valley home rented to a professional football player and his girlfriend. This is not my first brush with the Somewhat Notable renting homes from me. I once had a divorced musician whose wife had a better lawyer. Birmingham was half way between his former home and Nashville. So he planted himself in one of my properties for a few years until his fortune changed.

Additionally, one time some morning drive-time radio personality wanted to rent my home. She had just moved to Birmingham from Los Angeles. Anyway, she rejected my rental because it wasn't "California enough."

Anyway, this new guy is apparently some sort of Alabama University (or is it University of Alabama? I can never remember which) former football star turned professional. I don't know what position he plays or even how long he has been in the pros. Heck, I have never heard of the dude before last week, but that's ok. Apparently there are lots of folks in Birmingham who would be gaga upon hearing such news. I am just hoping he stays healthy long enough to pay the rent.

Two Choices

It appears one of our mortgages has been called due by the bank. Apparently banks can do such things if they choose to. They gave us a six weeks to pay the entire balance in full or suffer the consequences.

At this time, I am not sure what the consequences happen to be. You see, it is a second mortgage. They can't foreclose. If we don't pay it, then what???  The bank is going to put a lien on our home?  They already have a lien on our home in the form of a second mortgage (are you following along?). So, if they want their money they have one of two options.

1. Let me continue paying them like I am already doing.

2. Refuse to take my money, issue a lien on the home (which they already have in the form of a mortgage note) and ding my credit.

And if you really want to know how I feel, I just don't care which option they take at this point. Marty Sunshine does care though. And so does Mr. Partner. So, we came up with a possible third choice. We are going back to the bank and asking them what they are smoking politely ask them to reconsider.

So far, they have had us download a form that requires me to collect the equivalent of a small Peruvian rain forest in paperwork. Poor Bliz (who tells me this is what I pay her to do--which is true, but she has a real job and doesn't have time for the bank's deadline or my fire drill) has been sending me financial reports that I am editing in all my spare time. We are going back and forth with statements like, "I don't think that particular home had $5000 worth of expenses in June." and "You will have to ask Diamond Jim if you can claim the 16 gallons of Hagan Daas as an expense."

The form the bank is asking me to complete is a "hardship" form. There are multiple entries on there that I am supposed to check a box that best describes my hardship. However, none accurately depict our conundrum. When Marty talked to the bank customer service representative he explained the "hardship" just happens to be they are calling the note due and if they left it alone, there would be no hardship. The customer service rep didn't seem to understand Marty's point.

I am told we are to get this done immediately--especially in light of the fact they want everything completed by the end of the month. In addition to our financial statements they want our tax returns for the past two years and a million other documents. At this point, the bank will review the situation and make one of two decisions:

1. Let me continue paying them like I am already doing.

2. Refuse to take my money, issue a lien on the home (which they already have in the form of a mortgage note) and ding my credit.

Update on Fluffy and Puffy

In an unusual turn of events, Chris got a call a random call Sunday from his former tenants. Mind you, these folks abandoned the home three weeks ago! They wanted to know if they could go back into the home and grab the rest of their stuff.

I would like to have been a fly on the wall to see how that conversation went. Chris found a new home for Fluffy and Puffy on Saturday.

I Wish This Was A Baseball Post

While I am busy ignoring all things Alabama, I am frantically working to modify our under-capitalized financial position--which is the same thing as focusing on Alabama, but I digress...

Last Friday Chris asked me to meet him at his home. He was coming in from out of town. He owned a rental home for the past several years in the quiet east Phoenix suburb of Gilbert. He had the same tenants, who were "perfect" for the first four years and then in the past few months they were not so perfect. Chris, who had been totally spoiled when these folks were doing what they were supposed to do, was now burned out on the entire concept of rentals.

When I met Chris for the first time Friday afternoon, in 107 degree September Arizona heat, he had officially been in town 10 minutes. Five of those minutes were spent opening up his rental home and then standing in the driveway waiting for me. And because we had never met, and somehow it didn't come up in conversation when our mutual friend suggested he contact me, he had no idea I am phobic about snakes.

And if we can just sit back and chuckle over this irony for just a quick second. I am terrified of snakes--except if they happen to be Arizona's Major League Baseball team. I would much rather talk about those snakes.

Anyway, Chris got to the house before me. Opened it up to find out that his ideal tenants had left behind a boatload of personal property. However, they had sold Chris' washer and dryer he had bought for them to use five years ago. There was junk from end to end in this home. The little girls' room (I am assuming it was a young girl because of what was left in there) was painted--and I am not making this up--black.

Black was a running theme in the home too. The master bathroom was also painted black. The bathtubs were black. The carpet was black in spots. And because the power was off (did I mention it was 107 degrees?) I refused to let Chris open the refrigerator and find out the inside was black too. And behind all the junk was damaged walls, broken ceiling fans and many other issues that poor Chris just didn't really need to be part of his life.

And oh yes, the tenants left behind some of their beloved pets too. I named them Fluffy and Puffy. I also told Chris to let me know when they were gone and I would be happy to step foot in the home again.

Though I find this highly disturbing (and did not take it in spirit it was intended when my broker showed up 20 minutes later and suggested a third one had escaped and was now by my foot) it was not nearly as disturbing as the picture below when you take into consideration there was dog food lying around, dog toys and no dog. By the way, this buried spot was in the front yard. 

No Thanks

So, someone called Ms. Amy about Hysteria Lane. She is moving next week from some unknown city. Apparently she loves the area and loves the pictures of my competitively priced home. However, she hasn't seen the home, much less put an application in just yet.

Apparently this woman has watched one too many cable real estate shows. That's the only reason I can possibly think of that she would offer me this deal: I would have the honor of her being my tenant for two years as long as I took a rent reduction of $200 per month--or $4,800 for the duration of the lease. In all fairness, that isn't exactly how Ms. Amy phrased it, but when I said it back to her, she admitted it was the gist.

It seems to me that these potential tenants want me to know upfront they don't value me, my property or the social conventions related to renting a home. Rules are really mere suggestions. And for that matter, these mere suggestions are made for commoners--not for people who are moving to Birmingham next week from across country. Years of experience tell me it is fair to say one can easily translate this to "We are a complete pain in the ass. We just wanted you to know."

August 24th

For you three long-time readers, you might know that August 24th is our celebrated National Holiday around here in this patch of cyber space.

Today happens to be my dear friend and bookkeeper's birthday. So, Happy Birthday dear Bliz. I hope you had a wonderful time in Vegas. I didn't even go with you but I have the pictures to prove you were three shee... had a lovely time with your girlfriends.

Thank you for being such a beacon of light, truth and laughter for the past 29.9999999+ years. I love you dearly and glad you are in my life.

Random Bama---The Property Management Edition

Not to jinx it or anything, but it turns out I might, possibly, have a tenant for my Grayson Valley home. Ms. Amy has told the said potential tenant that I am a no-nonsense owner and not to apply if there was any reason she would feel the need to pay late on a regular basis. Or at least that's what Ms. Amy told me.

_______________________________________________

So far, in the past 21 days Luigi and his crew have shown the Hysteria Lane more attention than Mario and his minions did in the three years they had the home. For that matter, the rental price has been raised and they have had more showings this month than Mario had in July (which was a total of one).

_______________________________________________

Kirby--remember him?

For those of you who are fuzzy on the details  Kirby was my property manager for years. Then he sold out to Mario while I was on vacation last year. Before the transaction could go through (Kirby was selling his entire portfolio of homes he was managing, not just mine), I pulled out and sent my gazillion (minus three homes) to Luigi. That has caused the subsequent drama for this blog for the past several months. In all fairness, I am sorry I didn't meet Luigi in 2008 when I started looking for a property management company. He rocks.

Anyway, back to Kirby. Kirby is still a licensed agent. He also has become my handyman. We talk about twice a week--generally about maintenance issues. But sometimes it is personal, like "how are you and how is the wife?' Kirby thinks Ray (the guy selling my rental in Leeds) is a dumbass. Actually, I am paraphrasing. Kirby really said Ray seemed "inexperienced", but I can read between the lines.

Going, Going, Gone

There was pandering in the past 48 hours.

Lots of pandering.

The pandering started Saturday when Mario finally got around to responding to my e-mail from last week. It was the e-mail where I pointed out I had no idea this Willy guy was my primary contact at his office. Mario's reply was highly professional, and he even threw in a bit of self-deprecating humor as well, suggesting anyone who works for a property management company for 10 years must be crazy. I guess he didn't see my resume because, though true, he probably wouldn't have added that last part if he wanted to be on my good side.

Then Mario told me nobody more than him wanted to get my home rented out. I didn't respond telling him if that was the case, why did the listing on his Web site say it wasn't ready until July 28? Or, why has it had one showing in 30 days? And why--when they manage a home, slightly smaller, one block away for more money and I have always gotten top dollar for my home--should I take a reduction in rent when they haven't even shown the place?

And there was more pandering today when Mario got my e-mail this morning. I sent it right after someone named Greg e-mailed me to tell me once again, I had only had one showing in the past 30 days. My note to Mario was that it was time for us to part ways. I left it polite, keeping out all my personal feelings. It was even more polite than I really cared to. Hopefully that will count for something when I meet the Almighty.

Mario, the King of Pandering, wrote me back saying he wished I would reconsider. If nothing else, would I please have enough mercy to allow him to follow up with the one potential applicant who saw the place this weekend. Now, I know nobody saw it this weekend. But, what the heck! If Mario can pull a renter out of thin air and have them move in tomorrow, that's fine. So, I told him that would be ok, but the tenant must have no pets, reasonable credit, no evictions or felonies. He had until close of business today to make it happen. It didn't happen.

At 5:23 p.m. Alabama time I sent Mario another note. I told him I was sorry we couldn't make it work and someone would be by to pick up the keys.

That noise you may hear is rejoicing from Heaven.

Oh... It Is Plausable

So, I was talking to Carolsue on Thursday. And she suggested when I pull my home from Mario, I give it to her friend Adam.

Adam is a real estate agent. He impressed me beyond belief last year when I saw how hard he worked to sell a $25k home. Most agents won't even touch homes where the commission is less than their electric bill, but Adam was the Energizer Bunny.

In all fairness he has done everything he should do to earn my business. The timing has been bad. But it has occurred to me (repeatedly) that if I had given him the home in Leeds to sell it would have been sold by now.

Back to Adam... Carolsue suggested I contact him to handle the property management instead of giving it to Mario. Since my conversation with her, Marty Sunshine and Mr. Partner have nixed the idea, but I had my reasons why it wasn't a place I should go.

Adam is one guy, he isn't a property management company. Most likely we would be in a situation where I had more involvement in the process than I care to have. I don't need that. I lived that for years and I promise, I don't want to go backwards. If you don't believe me when I tell you it was stressful, please feel free to check this blog's archives.

As a corollary to Adam being a one-man show, there are other considerations. And that's where my chat with Carolsue got interesting. "What if Adam got hit by a bus? Who would manage the home then?"

Carolsue replied with some mundane answer which didn't really make me feel any better. So, I continued, "And what if the person driving the bus is the tenant he is managing?"

"Now you are just talking crazy." Carolsue accused. "That just isn't plausible."

Oh really?

At that point I gave her a laundry list of implausible situations that have happened to me since I started this accidental business. Some of them you will never find in this blog (but if you want to know, it will cost you an adult beverage. I can be bought) and many more which are. I even included the story of a guy who once mowed the lawn for me. He accidentally ran over a yellow jacket hive. He is allergic to yellow jackets. As he ran to get away from the yellow jackets, he ran into the street and got hit by a car. If you don't believe me, here is the story.

So you see Carolsue. I want to save Adam's life. This is the easiest way I can think of that will ensure he won't be hit by a bus.

Incompetent Thursday

Yesterday was a bad karma day. My ego was beaten down and I once again wonder why I am involved in anything real estate related. Or conversely yesterday, in a half-full kind of way, it was a good blogging day. You decide.

While Mario was getting pissy at me because I told him I was unhappy with my one showing for the entire month for my move-in ready home--which has had the same rental amount for 10 years (though he insists I was the one who overpriced it), I was also being called all sorts of names including "incompetent" by clients of mine because I can't rent out their home.

The clients wrote a long letter to my broker lying--mind you--about about the rental listing I have. They said (among everything they complained about) that I put in "smokers welcome" in the listing and left that way in MLS for more than a week. Incidentally, I believe the very first time in my entire life I ever wrote "smokers welcome" was in the sentence prior to this. The truth was, I did not check the box that said "non-smoking home" and they caught that. It was changed within an hour of them telling me.

My clients are stressed. They have two vacant homes. Mind you, they had reliable long-term tenants in one home and asked them to leave last month because... well, actually I don't know why. I never understood that one. My broker doesn't either. The long-term reliable tenants were flabbergasted too. But nevertheless, they now have two vacancies.

I have two vacancies as well. Both of my homes have mortgages. Theirs don't. But I digress...

The home in question where my "incompetence" was oozing will be a lovely home once the work is complete. They bought a fixer-upper that needed a ton of work and even more updating. My clients weren't willing to update, so the 1992 gray-blue counter tops and the brass fixtures are staying in this luxury home. We did finally convince them to paint the cabinets but they don't see any reason to replace the 1992 appliances.

However, the work isn't complete, because the clients haven't paid the contractors who are doing the construction. That's kind of a priority. So, the pictures I have on MLS are of the lovely exterior (which looked lovely when the picture was taken--they don't want to pay for landscaping or watering either) and the staircase. There are no kitchen and bath pictures. In fact, I was told (by them) the home was move-in ready and what exactly was the hold-up??

Here is the move-in ready proof:

















What really bothers me is that I was politer than I really wanted to be to Mario and he was his usual self. I was politer than I wanted to be to my abusive clients too. For that matter, I have bent over backwards for my clients and yet I am incompetent. I have shown this home four times this week alone--even looking like the above picture and begging the prospective tenants to use their imagination of what this kitchen could look like.

My home in Alabama I am asking Mario about is quite nice. In fact, it is probably my nicest home. It is move-in ready by their standards and I pay my bills. I know Mario's job is tough. I am doing the exact same job on the other end. However, I am not sure I am the one who is incompetent.

Anti-Service

To give you a brief back story: my home on Hysteria Lane has been vacant for almost a month. I have been frantically e-mailing Bruce, Mario's minion asking questions. I gave the directive early this month: "price the place competitively." I have repeatedly asked what was going on and didn't get an answer.

Then early this week I got some sort of automatic e-mail telling me, great news! I had one showing this month. And because Bruce is continually ignoring me, I contacted Mario and asked what was going on. Mario, who really is probably the biggest jerk jackass I have never had the pleasure of meeting, told me that some dude named Willy is my contact.

And then Mario told me I should know that, duh!

When I responded saying I was frustrated because this very nice home which should easily rented wasn't and that I didn't feel Mario and his minions were giving it any priority, Mario sent me a snarky defensive note and there was no mistaking his annoyance.

He apparently disagreed and told me 1) I was the one who priced the house too high (I wasn't involved in the pricing, and besides, it was the same amount the home has been rented for since 2004) and 2) Willy had been keeping in touch with me and why wasn't I working with him? The subtext was "shut the hell up you stupid Yankee woman."

I finally dug up the one and only note from Willy written to me on July 10. It said:

Hey,

Bruce asked me to reach out to you and let you know that we are going to get your property out for lease ASAP.

Thank you,

W

I have a pet peeve about strangers staring e-mails to me with, "Hey". In Alabama, I am pretty sure it is poor manners too. But I digress.

I did forward that particular e-mail to Mario along with this message: 

Mario: This is the sum and total of Willy's communication with me. This doesn't tell me he is in charge of leasing my home. He makes it sound like he is just doing Bruce a quick favor. This e-mail is from July 10. That's it. 

I haven't heard back from Mario. However, if the place isn't rented by Monday, we will be pulling it from Mario's property management clutches. I am guessing at this point, he probably won't be too upset.

Carolsue tells me the home is too classy for Mario's typical slum homes. Hm... Maybe that's the problem.

Slick Rick

So last week, Slick Rick calls me after I innocently inquired what my Calera home is worth. Slick works with Mario and his delightful, yet timid, minion Bruce--who happens to be the bright spot in Mario's entire organization. To back up, Slick sent me an e-mail with the following (in this order):

Hi I am Slick Rick

I charge 6 percent to sell your house.

I sold a house in Calera three years ago so I know the area.

What do you want to sell your house for?

After some gentle nudging and suggesting from me that I needed to know what the home is worth before I decided what I wanted to sell it for, Slick threw out an outrageous value of $98,000 for my four bedroom, 2,500 square-foot, 10year old home.

And that is where the fun began.

After explaining to Slick I thought the home was worth more and giving him logical reasons why, Slick responded, telling me he was the expert. His e-mail was full of condescending snark. He also re-iterated he charged 6 percent to sell my home. And sign here so we can get this party started.

I was amused by his e-mails, primarily because I already knew I wasn't going to hire him. Ever.

Playing along, I told him I recently put my home in Alabaster for sale at a rate much higher. I explained the type of home and neighborhood (giving specifics) were similar to this one in Calera.

Slick wrote me back saying, "Did you get any calls on it?"

Me: "No. But the agent I hired to list the home did. I got a rental application on it before we got a contract. So it is a rental for another year."

At which point Slick apparently woke up and did some research and realized I own more than two homes. And all of the sudden his attitude changed. I have homes! I want to sell them! As far as he was concerned, he could be the guy who does this for me.

Then I got another e-mail. He said perhaps his comp was low. Perhaps we might have started off on the wrong foot? And what was my phone number? He would love to chat with me and find a "solution" to help me sell my home. Let's talk!

I gave him my number and said he was welcome to call, but as far as I was concerned, the house was going back up for rent and at this time it would not be going up for sale. And, I know you will be shocked by this, but I haven't heard from him since.

A Ray of Hope-ish

I got an offer on my redneck hovel in Leeds. Actually, I got the offer last week. It is a low-low offer. Though I am not against the price exactly, I was totally against the terms. Let's just say, it isn't a win-win.

When Ray sent me the offer last Thursday, all he wrote was "I don't like the seller. They don't always close." And then I didn't hear from him until Monday afternoon, though I asked him several questions Thursday such as: how do we counter this to a more amenable offer?

By Monday I had already called Luigi to complain about Ray's lack of initiative and Luigi--who is probably sick of my weekly examples of how I would sell a house if I were Ray (or anyone else for that matter)--apparently had a little chat with Ray. It seems Ray has changed his tune from, "Do whatever you want, I don't care if you sell this house," to "How can I help you, Mrs. Landlord who has a gazillion homes you want to sell and if I do this well you may call me again to help you."

In the case of this particular offer, I decided to pass. I am not excited about the crazy terms. For example, if I want some other closing attorney other than Flip, I can pay for them on my own AND pay for their closing attorney. Additionally, the earnest money they are proposing putting down to hold this home for them is about par with the hourly wage of a small Guatemalan sweatshop apprentice. And, let's not forget my favorite: in order to make this sale go through, they need the social security number of the tenant before their inspection period is over with--though I don't know why.

It does seem Ray is a bit more responsive to me as a client. It is too bad Luigi had to have another pep talk with him to make this happen. And sadly, Ray is still much, much better than Slick Rick in Calera.

A Plethora of Dumbasses

I think I spend 83.76 percent of my time when I first start working with a client explaining Zillow, Truila and the rest of the Internet real estate sites are not their friends. There are many reasons for this and if you want a list, feel free to privately contact me and expect to spend an hour of your time listening to my reasons. But it boils down to this: They are often wrong. Often.

Zillow, et. al. is good for figuring out a ballpark price for a neighborhood. And I often use it for such when I am stuck myself and want an idea of what I can expect. But I use it only for a benchmark.

I say this because Slick Rick got back to me. He tells me my 2,500 square foot, 9 year old home on Hysteria Lane is worth $98,000. Mind you the home in Waterford--which is less than two miles away, the same age and half the size is worth more than that. Also my home in Alabaster which is slightly smaller but similar in age, appearance and neighborhood, is worth much, much more than that.

Heck! For that matter, Ray is allegedly listing my redneck hovel in Leeds for more than that (though I expect I will get less than $98k when all is said and done).

So pardon me if I don't believe Slick. Mind you, he didn't send me sales comps. He just sent me an e-mail today telling me my home was worth $98k, letting me know (again) he charges 6 percent and how hard he works for it, and what price did I want to list the home for?

And though I loathe Zillow, I did do a quick glance on it to see what I could expect. Zillow's estimate is much closer to what I was expecting. And they gave me sales comparables.

All Slick has told me thus far is he doesn't want my business. And I guarantee when I go to sell this house, he will not be my agent.

Nausea on Hysteria Lane

It appears the tenant on Hysteria Lane moved out in the middle of the night. Actually, she waltzed in to Mario's office Monday, straight to Bruce's desk and slapped down the keys, proudly saying she was out of my home and out of their life. At that point, Bruce politely reminded her she signed a two year lease and she was on the hook for the rest of the rent whether she liked it or not.

I am guessing she forgot about that second year.

I have asked Bruce about three times why she moved out, and he hasn't responded. My gut tells me it is because I wouldn't compensate her for her "troubles" when she flooded my home last February. Of course, had she not flooded my home, she wouldn't have had trouble, but that's just how I look at it.

When Bruce told me about this (he e-mailed me because he is afraid I will yell--or so I have been told), I asked him how much the home was worth. In all fairness, I am pretty sure we are upside down, or at least close to even on this particular property. It is in a nice neighborhood and rents quickly, so I don't see any reason to dump it at this time. I have never asked for comps before and frankly, I just didn't know what to expect. So, I asked.

Bruce grossly misinterpreted my question and sent me another e-mail (bless his heart). He stated me he was sorry to loose this house and my business, he would immediately take down the sign and he would have someone contact me right away about listing it.

True to his word, Slick Rick sent me an e-mail three seconds later. Slick told me he was familiar with the area because he sold one home there years earlier and he charges 6 percent. And by the way, he didn't have any idea what the home was worth, but what did I want to sell it for?

Between Bruce, Slick and Ray (who is allegedly listing the home in Leeds) I have to wonder how any of these folks make a living.

Leedsing Me On

So, Ray got back to me and said he was going to list the home at the exact same number Zillow suggests my home is worth. It isn't that I don't believe Zillow's "zestimate"--but they are not the best judge of comps. The price Ray quoted me seems about $7,000 higher than it should be.

When he gave me the magic listing price, I said, "If you are good with that, I am good with that." I am guessing he will come back to me in two weeks and say, "the price is too high." At which point I will ask what he has done to market the home.

Though I know this is Ray's job, I may advertise it in some other markets and see what comes of this. There may be investors who are ready to move their portfolios into the Birmingham market. You never know? Frankly, I would like to leave this task to Ray, but it took him a month to put the property on his own multiple listing service.

That said, the home is allegedly listed. I am now crossing my fingers and toes this place does sell. Soon.

P.S. Women Do Not Keep Leather Couches in Their Garage

Dear Joe,

May I call you Joe? Thanks.

I was in your home today. Actually, I was in Mitch and Tonya's home today. You just live there. You haven't met Mitch and Tonya. They are awesome clients and even more awesome friends. I sold them the home you currently reside in. This past week, while at lunch with Tonya, she tells me Lisa--her tenant--has been acting funny lately.

You know Lisa don't you? She is on the lease for the home you live in. You, by the way, aren't. In fact, you aren't supposed to be there at all. but I digress...

Anyway, according to Tonya (your defacto Landlord) Lisa has been acting peculiar. She is in the medical profession and rent is constantly late. That's a red flag. An HOA violation came in recently and when Tonya called Lisa about it, she said, "I will find out whose car that is." Instead of something like, "Oh, I don't know anything about this" or a simple, "It won't happen again." And then there is the fact a man was seen leaving the townhome with a sweet little girl recently. Lisa doesn't have a little girl. She has two well-grown teen daughters.

All of these comments Tonya mentioned during our lunch made my sixth sense kicked in. I would like to tell you I have the gift of prophecy, but it is really more like, been there, done that. In the landlord vernacular, excuses means problems. Lisa has recently been full of them.

So, Mitch and Tonya opted for an inspection. I tagged along as well. Lisa was gracious and told us, though she would not be home at the time, we were welcome to come in and look around. And this is where you come in Joe.

There are many, many reasons why your ruse did not work. And, in the future, if you are ever trying to fake out a landlord who does not know you are living in their home, and more importantly, you are supposed to be a divorced woman with weekend custody of your teen daughters, you might want to adhere to the following:

Though you left the place relatively clean today, the bathtub is black. Women do not have black bathtubs.

Women do have black shoes. Whether sneakers, stilettos or Toms, we own at least one pair of black shoes. Always. In fact, we own shoes. If you took the time to shove various extra-large polyester dresses and 1970's grandma print long sleeve shirts into the closet, you might have thought to put in a pair of shoes and perhaps even a pair of pants.

Though this is a delicate subject, it disturbs me greatly what kind of scam you were putting on. Women do not proudly display a Costco sized box (unopened) of feminine hygiene products on a self six feet above the potty. Ever. However, I give you props for the feminine touch on that one, because that's about the only place we saw anything girly.

And for example, when it comes to being girly, single women do not have six-foot lithographs of Joe Camel proudly displayed on their entry wall. Women do have some sort of beverage on hand at all times. Even if we aren't expecting company, one can find anything from bottled water to diet soda to a bottle of wine in any woman's pantry.

And yes, did I mention Lisa was single? This is why a pillow with her married last name embroidered on it as the only accessory in the sparse living room is a bit of a jolt. If I were divorced and kept my ex's name, I certainly wouldn't want a pillow with his name and the words, "circa 1995" on it.

And let's talk about the teen daughters. They are too old to share one bed. And, the clothes in the room are for a much, much smaller child. Also, just as an FYI: the turtle in your daughter's aquarium is dead. Women notice dead critters in their homes.

Once we started putting the pieces together, it got even more awkward. You see, though you took a lot of effort to cover up your tracks (and suggest Lisa had a very ugly wardrobe), you left a relatively conspicuous pile of legal papers, outlining your probationary terms as well as letters from lawyers. Given the number of envelopes and some of the dates, it appears you have a lot of baggage you have now brought into Mitch and Tonya's life stemming back as far as Lisa's pillow.

Though I am sure your mother thinks you are all kinds of awesome, Mitch and Tonya did not agree to rent to you. And, if they had known Lisa was going to pull this kind of a shenanigan, they wouldn't have rented to Lisa either. Which reminds me, where is Lisa? Is she in the suitcase? Or are you possibly wearing the paisley orange and sunburst yellow caftans and a wig (and obviously walking around barefoot) on a regular basis? Or was it that Lisa couldn't handle being alone and moved in with some guy? Instead of breaking her lease she did everyone a "favor" and decided to put together this ruse?

You should know, Joe, Lisa will not be happy if you leave the place a disaster. Arizona is a very friendly landlord state and Lisa will be on the hook and have her wages garnished for any damage you do.

At this moment, I am sure Mitch and Tonya are evaluating their options and you will soon find out your fate. They weren't excited today when we went in. Neither was I. These are good people who deserve better than the liars and crooks they are now dealing with.

Sincerely,

The Landlord

No Leads for Leeds

About a week ago I had a chat with Luigi about my frustrations with Ray's work ethic. My goal was to come across professionally and not as a whiner. When we hung up, I felt I had successfully done what I intended to do.

I conveyed that I was surprised at Ray's inability to cooperate and list the homes (the one in Leeds is all he has left) like he is contracted to do. I was disappointed Ray only filled out the commission instructions of the six page listing agreement, leaving me to put in my own terms. I shared how I have asked him to call me about marketing the home and yet I haven't heard word one from him. I explained that I was puzzled that he wasn't using this listing as an opportunity to drum up more business for himself and the property management company he works for. After all, one listing can be worth several sales if done right.

Though it was a phone call, I got the impression Luigi had face-palmed his forehead and was shaking his head on the other end as he agreed with my analysis. He didn't make excuses for Ray, only saying he thought this would have been a great opportunity for him and he was unsure what the holdup was. Luigi promised to speak with Ray and get things sorted out.

My last two weeks were complicated and though I fantasized about selling all of my Alabama homes several times last week (as I do on a regular basis), I didn't really put much realistic hope anything was getting done. This week, I looked up my Leeds address to see if the major home sale real estate sites had picked up the listing. Nothing.

So, I e-mailed both Luigi and Ray again. I simply asked what had been done. Luigi wrote me back saying Ray was out of town and he would check into it. My reply was terse: I don't beg people to take my money. So if Ray isn't interested, just let me know. I have better ways to extend my energy and I can think of two agents off the bat I would be happy to give the listing to.

Today Ray wrote me back. He would happily list my home, I just needed to give him a dollar amount to offer the home for sale. I didn't pop a vein, but I did reply with another terse comment, explaining he has given me a $30,000 range of what this home is worth, but has yet to provide me with any comps. As I don't have a real estate license in Alabama, I am relying on Ray, a real estate professional, and his expertise to guide me into making an informed decision.

I did not cc Luigi. But I was darn tempted.

If I can make a bold prediction, Ray will do absolutely nothing with this listing. It will not get on MLS. Or if it does, it will not be on there correctly. I will never get an accurate assessment of what the home is worth (Zillow says the high end of Ray's prediction--he significantly lowered the price once he found out work was involved--not that Zillow is terribly accurate, but right now Zillow is working harder for me than Ray is). I further predict about two weeks from now I will have another come-to-terms meeting with Luigi, Ray's boss. Meanwhile, the home is rented and eventually the listing will expire. 

Allergic to Work

The nicest way word I can think of to describe Ray--the agent Luigi assigned to sell the two homes I wanted sold--is a dumbass. I rarely will just blatantly outright trash someone on my blog, so you get the idea. Ray is a dumbass. He is also damn condescending--in that Southern man-don't-you-worry-your-pretty-little-head-about-it way. Wrap up those elements of his personality and what I can see about his real estate selling skills and you have what I never, ever wanted for a real estate agent to represent me and my best interests.

We started this saga months ago, though it was unbeknownst to all parties at the time. When I negotiated my property management contracts I put in them that if Luigi's company handled the buyer and seller of a sale of my properties they would take a cut in their commission. This has been a source of contention between Ray and me from day one. He wasn't part of that negotiation and he isn't happy. In truth, he hasn't brought me a sale either. So, currently his commission is zero.

I asked him to list the Alabaster home for sale. I explained it was also for rent. So, if Luigi rented it out first, it would go off the market. If Ray popped it on MLS and we had a contract, too bad for Luigi. I discussed this independently with both Ray and Luigi. I even wrote it in the listing contract (Ray left the entire listing contract blank, including the addresses and price--except the commission instructions, which I changed anyway). It wasn't a shock.

And, because Ray isn't Johnny-on-the-spot, he didn't bother putting the house on MLS until SIX days after I gave him the listing. And he only did it when he found out there was a potential renter interested. And then, he started barking to everyone in earshot (Ms. Amy--at the office they work at together--told me this) that I wanted to sell the place so stop showing it for rent.

Great news! I have a renter for the Alabaster home!

Ray was also directed to sell the home in Leeds. I spent about 30 minutes on the phone with him the day I sent over the listing with the following directive: offer the home for sale to the tenants. If they aren't interested, tell them nothing more. I don't want to scare the tenants away. Just quietly list it on MLS and find an investor. I don't want to do anything to make them uncomfortable.

And, just because I am a high-strung Type-A, I actually wrote the previous in an e-mail. I wanted it very clear the long-time tenants are to feel secure they have a place to live if they don't want to buy.

Now then, for those of you who may find this a bit implausible, please understand, this happens all the time. It is common for a home to be listed in the Multiple Listing Service where a tenant lives. It is common to say, do not disturb the tenants. It takes a LOT longer to sell the home this way and more work has to go into the process, but in the mean-time the agent who lists the home has a chance to find buyers and sellers to grow their business. A good investment listing can generate two or three other sales for an agent. Plus, it can sell their client's home--which is all I really cared about.

Or, if the agent happens to work for a property management company, they can advertise to their landlords and see if they can drum up a buyer that way. Perhaps the owner says, "I am not interested in this particular home, but what else do you have?" It can work in the savvy agent's favor if they know what they are doing.

Ray does not know what he is doing. The tenants do not want to buy the home. But, apparently he told them I was selling. And they have made it clear they are unhappy about this and they have stated they will NOT cooperate with any showings. And now they want to move.

Last Tuesday I sent Ray a note saying I think he and I have not been on the same page about marketing the home and perhaps we could talk later in the week. I had some ideas and would be willing to assist in social media so the work would not be all his. After all, I have a vested interest in getting this house sold.

I have not heard back.

I have since changed my strategy. As long as the tenants stay, the house will not be sold. If they move out, I will take it out of management and find some competent agent to sell the place. And, I happen to know a few savvy agents over there who aren't afraid of work.

In Other News

"What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away, in the end. You could have it all. My empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt. If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way." 

--Johnny Cash, Hurt

I just sent the listing paperwork to Luigi and his broker, Ray, to sell two of our homes. I have a myriad of emotions coursing through me right now. The two homes in question are very different. We are selling them for different reasons.

Both are homes we have with Mr. Partner. I am not sure Mr. Partner exactly knows they are being sold. Marty Sunshine told him recently we were going to do it. However, I suspect he hasn't completely grasped this.

To be continued.

Grayson Valley Update

I know this is going to come as a shock to nobody, but the idiots in the Grayson Valley House did not move out last weekend. Luigi went over to do his final walk-through only to find their worldly possessions happily collecting dust. The tenants weren't there, but apparently one adult child was, who didn't seem to grasp the magnitude of the event and let Luigi walk in and look around. Luigi, of course, set this up a week ago, so he had the right to enter anyway.

Not only is the house still occupied, but it isn't as spiffy as it was when Marty and I sunk a small fortune into it last year, getting it ready to rent and undoing the past five years' of Jack's neglect.

When he called me, Luigi didn't exactly elaborate in his voice mail and--to my liver's credit--I didn't call him back. All I know is that it isn't pretty and there is at least a broken window. I am sorta hoping the rest is just easy-to-take-of kinds of things. I did follow up with an e-mail saying I would be happy to discuss this on Friday. And let's talk then. Lucky me. Today is only Thursday.

Even Luigi is out of patience with these folks. And I never thought that could happen.

I regularly fantasize about finding a group of people who don't mind going back to prison and asking them if they want to go over and toss these yahoos out of my home. I won't do that of course. But it has quickly become my happy place.

Tomorrow, or maybe later today, I will fish through my files for the yellow pieces of paper this guy has been sending me on and off for the past few months, asking if I want to sell this particular home. It is an investor. I don't know that I want to sell this specific home right now, but I am opening to see what he has to say.

Random Bama

I may have forgotten to mention this, but last week Luigi managed to find a willing, qualified and capable tenant to rent my Pinson house. They didn't care what color the bathrooms were. They hadn't spoken to the nosy neighbor. They weren't bartering a can of paint for the security deposit. All they wanted to do was just move in.

The only drama that ensued was when I found out the particular tenant's name was Mr. Smith. I had a Mr. Smith. He lived in Moody and is on my top three most hated tenants of all time. Though I know it is a common name, before I agreed to rent my home to the new Mr. Smith, I verified it wasn't Michael Smith and his wife and children.

Though Ms. Amy seemed confused by my impassioned request to verify this (including please give me the guy's last four digits of his Social Security number so I can check it against my records), she helped me out. Once I was certain I wasn't dancing with the devil, I happily approved Mr. Smith.

One can never be too careful. 

__________________________________________________

Kirby may be out of the property management business, but I am talking to him on a regular basis. You see, he is now an HVAC technician. One by one, he is checking on my homes and giving my HVAC units a tune-up. He says he is giving me the "friend discount"--which is really sweet, because I have a gazillion homes with air conditioners.

In addition to HVAC systems, he also happens to be a bit of a handyman. So, Ms. Angie is getting a front door and he is coordinating with Mrs. Sherwood to fix a few things at her home too.

__________________________________________________

Carolsue e-mailed me today. In the event I may ever need such a service, she knows a guy who willingly removes snakes from one's rental homes. For free?! As an added incentive, if it turns out the snake is poisonous, he will pay $5 for the privilege.

He is now on my speed dial.

The Crazies

A few months ago, while minding my own business, my tenant in Grayson Valley called my new place of employment, didn't identify herself and proceeded to ask me a ton of personal questions about my rental home. She was not forthcoming with information and had a strong sense of entitlement. One could argue it ended badly, with me letting loose a few four-letter words at this complete stranger, all while surrounded by people who, up until that moment, really had no idea I swear like a sailor when I am furious. But in truth, the woman exhibited no boundaries and I was just guarding what is rightly mine.

A month later I found out she was secretly trying to buy my house by badgering some retiring Birmingham real estate professional to contact me to see if we would sell "his client" the house. Oh yes, she had given this real estate professional the wrong name, and mis-led him about a few other relevant facts. And, she did not want Marty Sunshine nor I to know it was her. Like we wouldn't find out? 

Fast-forward another month, going through Luigi, we offered the home for sale to her and her husband (who were now current on rent) at a ridiculous price. She responded back, saying she had applied for a mortgage and Luigi would be getting a call, and he had better give her a good reference. Of course, Luigi needs to tell the truth: that being she had been two months late on her rent--which would probably negate any chance she had to purchase a home. To do otherwise would constitute mortgage fraud and he would be in jail. The Feds don't mess around with mortgage fraud.

All was calm for a little while. Then April came and went. And once again, she didn't pay rent.

In May, now two months behind again, Ms. Amy called her while I was on one phone. Amy put the call on speaker phone so I could hear. The tenant didn't seem to be the least bit concerned rent was late. When Amy explained to her the eviction process was being started, the woman didn't say anything to indicate she had a care in the world. Instead, she just said she would get to the rent when she got to it. And what was the big deal? And for Heaven's sake! Just leave her alone. After all, it wasn't a big deal.

"You are two months' late and the owner has contacted an attorney. You will have an eviction on your record and no landlord will ever rent to you, mortgage companies won't lend you money, your wages will be garnished and you will have to pay for an attorney." Ms. Amy said as sweetly as possible. The woman didn't budge and the call ended.

While I was congratulating Ms. Amy for her cool head, Ms. Amy stopped me and said, "She is calling again. Hold on."

Ms. Amy put her on speaker phone again, just in time for me to hear this tenant say as innocently as possible, "Hello Ms. Amy, Did I just miss a call from you?"

I would tell you this tenant is nuts, but that really insults nutty people everywhere. A letter did go out to the folks. Later in the week the husband, realizing that "garnish wages" should be a real concern, contacted Luigi. In the letter he offered to pay the two months he owed "some time in June" and then asked how much we would lower their rent to entice them to stay another year.

I have idly wondered off and on for the past few months what kind of baggage they might have--given she has told everyone I have mentioned hear and in the next paragraph--how she works for an attorney and he is somewhere high on the food chain for a national bank. Gambling addiction? A secret mistress? Drug running? I have heard from all of the above Ms. Tenant has repeatedly bragged how the two of them are making six figures.

The gist is in theory, they are moving out this weekend. Luigi, and Kirby as a favor to me, are going over Monday to do a final walk-through and inspection. The reason Kirby is going is because he helped me last year when I remodeled the place and knows what kind of condition it was in when they moved in. I keep thinking the house will rent easily. It is a nice house. It is in a nice area. And hopefully these crazies are now out of my life.

And by the way, I still plan on garnishing.

Emily Post Doesn't Seem To Cover This

Because I work for a property management company, I happen to know a few inside secrets about how things are handled. One of the biggest is simply: do not to call a property management company the first week of the month. Please.

Those in the office are fielding calls left and right with people saying rent is on time, rent is late because some random event happened or they are moving out. Additionally, more repair requests come in the first week of the month. Tenants seem to feel more embolden right after rent is paid and are more likely to ask for a myriad of fixes they have stored up for the past three weeks waiting until some unsuspecting property management person answers the phone.

That said I am at a quandary. You see, Luigi, who has figured out the best way to get in touch with me is to text me at 5:30 a.m. my time, has done so every day this week. It isn't the 5:30 a.m. I mind too much. Truth be told, I tend to be awake most days by 5 a.m.--whether I want to be or not. In fact, I have told him this is the best time to reach me. As long as I don't have to contribute too much to the conversation.

Luigi apparently has taken to heart the relaxed boundaries I have set in place with him. He is texting first thing. So far this week, every day, some random tenant has had a this or that break. Most of the repairs happen to involve the words "air conditioning" and that isn't really improving my mood much.

But today, something bizarre happened. Luigi didn't text me. He didn't call. He didn't e-mail. It was eerily silent. My conundrum is this: is it appropriate to thank Luigi for taking the day off with burdening me with the news of another broken widget? Or, because it is the beginning of the month, is it more appropriate for me to just lay low and let him get through the first week of the month like the rest of us? 

In a Dark Space

I have been told (repeatedly) this blog is amusing. That's great actually. I want you to be amused. Laughter and learning should go hand in hand.

I personally want to read back years from now and have a chuckle at my own expense--just to see how far things have come. In fact, sometimes in dark moments like these, I do go back into the annals of this journal just to see how I handled something or to realize just how much more experience I have now. Once in a while I even run across a former tenant (or three) I had completely forgotten about. And then I remember why I had erased them from my memory.

I have not felt amused lately. I have been angry. Embittered.

I am angry I have to work so hard to keep these stupid rental homes operating when tenants do things like not pay their rent for two months. And worse, they don't care that they aren't paying. I am furious that I can't buy tires for my car because I don't know how I am going to come up with the mortgage money for three (yes, three) vacancies. Actually, technically just two. I have a deadbeat as well who is allegedly moving "sometime in June". And, I am beyond pissed at Mr. Partner's insinuation that I spend money "frivolously" (his word) on such things as air conditioner maintenance--because the compressor went out.

Incidentally, Mr. Partner has some random solution to our undercapitalized issues (undercapitalized issues which he is blaming me for because I am making frivolous repairs--like Ms. Angie, who needs a front door for her 40 year old home, and can only leave her home right now through the basement--those kind of repairs). His marvelous plan makes quantitative easing (the printing of more money so there is a greater supply--which,  by the way, didn't work out so hot for the Germans in the 1920s) sound like a genius idea.

I have a few other solutions of my own and I rant about them daily to Marty and Bliz, as I have been getting to the office sometimes as late as 8 a.m. and getting home about 12 hours later. I am only paid when and if a home closes, which doesn't happen every Friday. And by the way, I also need tires for my car--did I mention that? And Buckaroo just outgrew every stitch of clothing he owns in a  two week time period. By the way, my solutions include, but aren't limited to, letting the whole thing go and/or selling it all and getting on with my life. Let's consider this a life's lesson and move on, shall we?

But nobody is listening to me.

In all fairness, my funk may be related partially to the clueless person who recently told me I was "greedy" for working so much. 

It isn't that the Alabama bills aren't getting paid. Because they are. But I am not buying tires for my car either. And Buckaroo still needs clothes. I would probably feel better if the house in Pinson was rented (but it isn't and that damn neighbor won't shut up) or the home in Alabaster was rented or the nutcase in Grayson Valley just paid up or moved out like they were supposed to. In all fairness, Luigi has been doing his level best to get the home in Pinson rented. And I did turn down one high-maintenance potential tenant who didn't sound very promising from the get-go.

So, please forgive me if this isn't an amusing blog tonight. I am tired, slightly depressed and the closer it comes to the end of the month when mortgages are due, the more prone I am to hysterics. I desperately want one day off to hang out with my kids and do laundry. Right now I don't see that one free day in my immediate future. I don't feel sorry for me. I signed up for this. I just don't see a way out right now.

Reality Television is NOT Real

I have an applicant for my home in Pinson. Apparently this applicant hasn't spoken with Ms. Nosy. Which is fine by me. I wish I was jumping up and down about this person. However, I am able only to muster a "yay" in a monotone whisper when the occasion arises, but that is about it.

The applicant "loves the house." And "wants to stay there forever." And all sorts of other platitudes potential tenants say to property managers when they like a home. However, she also wants to know if I will "work with the deposits" in exchange for her painting the bathrooms. Mind you, the bathrooms were painted in March. I don't care if she re-paints the bathrooms on her dime. But she isn't doing me any favors to change the color at this point.

What bothered me was the idea of leveraging her deposit for a couple cans of paint. If things go South, her deposit is all I have. I asked Ms. Amy if the applicant has the deposit, just needs it broken down or just thinks this is some warped version of some reality television show where she is supposed to negotiate everything. Ms. Amy didn't know. I am guessing the later.

And speaking of negotiating everything, the applicant in question wants a $200 rent reduction. Her reasoning is that this house has been on the market for so long. I swear I almost rejected her on the spot for that logic. Except the house has been on the market for so long and really does need a tenant. But it has been on the market forever because of other factors. Not because the home is terrible. Because it isn't.

What I did do was say I would go down $100 (and told Ms. Amy to lower it by that amount for anyone else looking). I also said she could paint the bathrooms to her heart's content (with landlord approved colors) but the deposits would be upfront.

My parting comment to Ms. Amy was that I felt tenants who think we are negotiating a Mid-East peace treaty tend to be drama for the duration of their lease. I could cite examples, but my guess is she has had plenty to choose from.

And How Is Your Day Going?

I never thought I would utter the sentence, "I need to find someone who has a backhoe."

Smiles

Diamond Jim just called me. He wanted to let me know he is finally reading The Stand--a book I recommended years ago. And by the way, he thinks it is really good. He told me he will be reading Killing Jesus when he is done--another book I recommended and sent to him.

He left town last week, back to a small Eastern Oregon hamlet where he intends to read and hang out with Mrs. Diamond Jim until he comes back to file more tax returns in a month or so. I have given up on him retiring. I am not even sure he really, truly wants to. And that is just fine by me.

Ms. Nosy

So last Monday, I was talking to Amy--Luigi's assistant--and she tells me she was at the house in Pinson when the neighbor meandered out, flagged her down and decided to have a chat with her. The closest neighbor isn't exactly in shouting distance. This neighbor had to go to some effort to get Amy's attention. And boy did she!

And before I go much further, I should explain something about this house. It is in the mountains. It is on a few acres. It has a pond in the back. It has a wrap-around porch. This is country living. You also should know that this is a very nice house and Luigi, Amy and I have been befuddled as to why this home is still vacant.

Before Amy had the ability to introduce herself and explain that her company was managing my home, Ms. Nosy took over. Going into great detail, she told Amy my home is falling apart. She also said it has toxic mold and someone had recently died in it (oh?!). Ms. Nosy gave Amy a litany of other property defects before Ms. Amy managed to skirt away, drive down the mountain and call me.

I knew about this last week when Luigi called me. However, Luigi had gone back out to the home Tuesday. As soon as he pulled in the neighbor managed to sprint out of her home and corral him. Having no idea who he was, she started in with the same story she had given Luigi and then wrapped it up with a bigoted proclamation that Amy--who happens to be African American was chased off yesterday. Ms. Nosy then proudly suggested she had been chasing off potential tenants with these types of stories. Especially black ones.

This house has been vacant for months longer than it should and now we know why. Apparently Ms. Nosy has taken it upon herself telling lies (mold and the home in disrepair) and added her own bigotry. This has cost me a lot of money in rent and even with this news being a week old I am completely pissed.

Luigi and I debated the trickiness of this situation (he isn't familiar yet with my issue in Leeds. Oh, won't he be in for a treat!). We decided that he will first talk with her, though I am doubting that will do any good. Someone this nosy and this prejudiced isn't going to start minding her own business just because Luigi is going to tell her to stop.

Our next step is finding a a charitable attorney willing to write her a letter ordering her to cease and desist. Perhaps a lawyer's letterhead will scare her enough to at least keep her on her front porch when a car drives up. After that, I am out of options. I am not going to sue her. However, I did ask Luigi what I could sell the home for--though I can already predict how that will go over with Ms. Nosy.

What I really want to do--and even a week later it sounds appealing--is fly to Birmingham, drive up the mountain, knock on her door and give her a piece of my mind. I am going on month five of no rent because of this woman. I have a lot to say to her right now. None of it is appropriate for this family blog. And none of it can be summed up as, "love thy neighbor."

Speechless

Oh... there is never a dull moment in Landlord Land. Today was no exception.

Luigi's assistant, Ms. Amy, called me today. You see, she has the perfect potential tenants who are ready to rent my home. And please, oh please! Would I approve them and their demand for an eight month lease? And just so I knew, they originally wanted a six month lease but Ms. Amy told her up front I would not accept anything less than an eight month lease--so at least that was taken care of. And what did I think?

When I asked why a short term lease, Ms. Amy told me the potential tenants in question are building a home and the builder told them the home would be ready in six months.  "So basically they would be moving out in six months no matter what the lease term was?" I asked. "And, they wouldn't care if there was a hit on their credit for skipping on their lease because at that point, they would owe their home and they have nothing to loose?"

Ms. Amy was silent for a moment or two before she replied, "I hadn't thought of that." And then, as if she had completely missed the gist of my comment she said, "Maybe I could ask them to sign a one year lease instead."

"Won't they still be moving in six months either way?" I asked. And again Ms. Amy was at a loss for words.

With all due respect to Ms. Amy, I will pass.

The Daisy Chronicles--The Last Straw

For you three long-time readers, you may remember Baseball Guy.  I don't write much about him. Baseball Guy is a tenant from years gone by. For a while he lived in Ms. Angie's home--long before Ms. Angie lived there.

He happens to be related to Carolsue, which would chalk him up higher in my esteem if I didn't already think the world of him. Baseball Guy is former military, he has done a plethora of odd jobs for me over the past ten years and he likes baseball. He is dearly protective of me and posts some funny things on Facebook. What's not to love?

In the beginning of January, Baseball Guy got wind that I had a vacant home in Centerpoint. This particular home had been vacant for a very long time, and in all fairness I had turned down two Section 8 tenants in the months' past who appeared on paper to be train wrecks and would have probably caused me carpal tunnel syndrome blogging about their shenanigans. However, the house in question was perfect for Baseball Guy. And right after New Year's he asked me if I would rent to him. I didn't blink and immediately gave Daisy a call, filled her in on Baseball Guy's awesomeness and directed her to contact him immediately.

Now before I go on, let's make sure you and I are on the same page. If you are a property manager and one of your best landlords tells you, "Rent this house to my former tenant and friend," you might want to be very careful what you do, lest it gets back to your best landlord. At least that's how I think. But apparently not everyone agrees. But then again, "Everyone" isn't employed any more either.

Though Daisy knew she was to coordinate with Baseball Guy, she managed to blow this in epic proportions. Many things happened that are too numerous to write about in this segment of cyber space. However, Daisy utterly ignored my directive and then brushed off Baseball Guy. Twice. I am not sure how she thought I wouldn't hear about it. After some frantic nudging from me, she managed to finally meet him and get his security deposit. However, even as I write this, Baseball Guy's cash security deposit he gave to Daisy never made it back to Luigi's broker's account (Luigi has since eaten this).

Fast forwarding through three weeks of drama... February 1, Baseball Guy contacted me at some insane hour. He had moved in the Friday before. However, the house was dirty, the stove didn't work, and he wasn't able to turn on the water because he didn't have a lease. Stoves can be fixed. Homes can be cleaned. But he didn't have a lease!? This was news to me. Daisy gave him keys but didn't give him legal rights to the home. I am still having trouble processing that one.

For those of you who aren't outraged by this last statement, let me please explain: If this was anyone other than Baseball Guy, once the tenants are in the door, moved in and hanging up the "Home Sweet Home" sign, they may not feel so inclined to sign that lease. And THERE WOULD BE NOTHING I COULD DO ABOUT IT UNTIL I WENT IN FRONT OF A JUDGE TRYING TO PROVE I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS ARRANGEMENT.

When I am truly angry, it is best to give me space. Once I confirmed with Daisy that she really did indeed do something so heinous, I needed that space. And sadly, Daisy did not give it to me. She kept calling. And texting. And e-mailing. Her excuse was, she was "too busy to give him an actual lease" (but could give him house keys?). My answer was simply, when I am busy I find someone else in my office to handle these things for me. That's why, just like her, I work with other people who do what I do. Or, if that solution isn't possible, I don't let the tenant move in. Even Baseball Guy.

By the time I got Luigi involved, I was beside myself. Personally, I don't know if this is the final straw that got Daisy fired. I suspect she had dug her grave with Luigi and this was just more fuel. But I for one was calling for her head.

Carolsue once told me never to trust anyone from Louisiana. Daisy is from Louisiana. She is the second person I have met from there and her behavior was just like the other Cajun. When Luigi and I were clearing things up in February, figuring out what was what, and working on moving forward, I flat-out asked him if he was from Louisiana. He may have thought it was a random question, but I now know better. 

The Daisy Chronicles

When Daisy offered to take my properties instead of having them go to Mario, I was grateful. But, I was grateful that the homes weren't going to Mario, not that Daisy was somehow saving me. I figured my portfolio of homes would help her look more glamorous to a prospective employer. I was ok with that because I was getting a new property management company.

I didn't sign my homes over until December 31st, a full week and a half after my vacation just to make sure I had taken some time to check out my new company. My thought was it would be nice to have someone I had already trained and someone who knew my tenants handle things for me. A win-win.

Except things took an odd turn. For example, my home in Chalkville that Mrs. Green moved out of months ago still wasn't rented. When I pressed Daisy about it, she told me my rent was too high and there were much nicer homes for rent in that area. Also, she said Mrs. Green hadn't left the home in great condition. None of this made sense to me. I had always had it rented at much higher rent and I had seen this home last year and Mr. and Mrs. Green were immaculate housekeepers.

In February Daisy rented this home for significantly less money and to a Section 8 tenant. When I didn't show the appropriate amount of gratitude, she was floored. That situation has since been fixed, the tenant was told she couldn't move in and I eventually got what I expected for rent for a tenant I wanted. Incidentally, Luigi tells me my home is the nicest in the area.

Also, my tenant at the Grayson Valley home managed to get my work phone number. She knew enough about me--even though I am not on the title for the home--to find me. I believe Daisy gave her information about me so she could find me. I have an unusual first name and a common last name. However, I am not the only person with my name who happens to be a real estate professional in the Phoenix metro area.

Additionally, my tenant in Pinson moved out January 1st. Daisy knew this, assured me the home was picture-perfect. She told me she even went over and personally turned off the water on the property so the pipes won't freeze. Every time I asked, she would tell me she is showing the home, but it is just so far away she is having trouble finding anyone interested. She promised me it was advertised appropriately and my rent was too high--at a price less than I normally was getting. The house in question happens to be in the mountains. It is one of my favorites, with a wrap-around porch and a pond in the back. Some day I may want to live there.

It turns out the house was in no way ready to rent out. It was dirty. There was trash everywhere. It needed a coat soap and three coats of paint. And, the water was never, ever turned off. In the past week, the property was repaired, cleaned up and on the market for what I expect to be a reasonable amount of money. Luigi has been telling me every time he shows it. If Daisy had been straight with me back in early January, everything would have been done by mid-February and probably be rented out by now.

If you factor in the amount of rent I lost in the past few months with her lies and the amount of money needed to get the place back in order, she darn well better hope she doesn't see me any time soon. In fact, I did factor it all in. When this all came to a head in February I discussed this with Luigi. I didn't mince words. I could tell he had his fill of Daisy by then too. And sadly, this wasn't Daisy's biggest transgression.

But, that is for the next blog.