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."