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.
Tuesday, September 09, 2014
Sunday, September 07, 2014
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.
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.
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