Thursday, February 27, 2014

She's Baaacccckkkkkk

Jack--remember him?--has e-mailed me about four times in the past two months. Apparently there is some real estate agent in Birmingham who has a client who wants to buy my Grayson Valley home. The agent had gotten Jack's number because Jack had sold us the home (he was also part owner until he bailed on us last year, but I digress). Would I please just call this guy and get him off Jack's back?

The house in question is very nice. It is red brick, on a golf course and is currently rented by that crazy lady who did not want to pay me rent for two months and managed to find my phone number, call me at work and had me chew her out for being a thief. It is one of my favorites, and though I am still puzzled why Jack jumped ship, Marty and I are doing well with it right now.

I did call the agent Tuesday. Apparently this woman has been calling him non-stop for several months and saying she wanted to buy this home.

"Why this home?" I asked the agent.

He did not know.

"I have a tenant in place right now. It isn't exactly for sale."

It was a rental? That was news to him.

"Is it possible it is the tenant calling you?" I asked.

"No, this woman is black." the agent replied.

Let's all pause, roll our eyes and take a trip back to pre-1964 Birmingham. Shall we? 

"Though I have only spoken to her once, I believe my tenant may be African American," I said. 

The agent was nonplussed. Looking up her name, he told me her unusual first name was the same as my tenant's unusual first name. The last names were different, but my tenant's middle initial is the same as what this agent had down as a last name. She also in the same type of business as that of my current tenant.

"Is it possible my tenant is calling you asking you and asking you to represent her?"

The agent didn't concede, but thought perhaps he might want a longer conversation with her tomorrow to see what her intentions are. My guess is it is the same sociopath who is up to some different weirdness.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

The Chalkville House

Last week I had a spat with Daisy about my home in Chalkville. It had been vacant since Mr. and Mrs. Green left months ago. Daisy had finally gotten in rented at more than $230 less than I have ever rented it for in all the years I have had this home. Also, she took a Section 8 tenant.

As we all know, there is nothing in this world as desperate as a landlord with a vacant home. And, given I wanted to have this home rented so badly, Daisy was floored by my lack of gratitude. When I explained to her that I didn't want a Section 8 tenant--especially one who would be living there for so little, Daisy's reply was that next year when the tenant moves out I can re-rent it for "my" price. And besides! Luigi's fees are less than Kirby's so, the difference should be negligible.

First, Section 8 tenants don't move. They stay. If the tenant does leave for some strange reason, I have yet to see a Section 8 home that was in good shape once the tenant left. I currently have a Section 8 home right now, and I am here to tell you, I don't expect it to be stellar when I get it back. It was a different time when I agreed to this. For now, it works. But I am not happy about it.

The government doesn't pay much for Section 8 tenants, but the catch is they do pay. Every month a check comes in to the owners. I don't hear excuses like the light bill was too high and that is why I am not seeing a drop of rent. What HUD does pay depends upon the tenant's voucher, which is based on several factors including if the tenant has a job, the number of kids and other variables. In return, the Section 8 authority wants an inspection once a year to prove I am not a slum lord. They will insist upon minor repairs that most of us can just live with when push comes to shove.

Daisy's last comment was probably the most inconsiderate and gave a clear pictures of what she thought of my money. This house is one Marty Sunshine and I own without a partner. It had never been in property management before so there had never been property management fees prior. But more important, it shouldn't matter. What I pay in property management fees is not her business and should not be taken into account, nor should my concerns be dismissed because "I am paying less" for property management fees.

When I asked Daisy to contact me to discuss how I could get out of having this tenant, she didn't return my calls. Last Wednesday afternoon, I had a stroke of brilliance. I called Luigi and asked for a reality check. Could I get more money for this home or was this new tenant--even on Section 8--paying market rate for rent. Luigi looked over the home. His assistant Amy looked over the home. Both told me it was one of the nicest in the area (I thought as much) except that the exterior needs to be desperately painted (I thought as much too). However, they saw no reason why I had to settle for so little money.

Before the Section 8 tenant moved in, I asked them to put the home back on the market and withdraw the tenant's application. I was willing to gamble on a higher rent than a sure thing. I held my breath, knowing I was down to the dregs in my bank account to keep supporting this home.

Today Luigi called me. He had two tenants fighting over the place. Neither had pets. Both sets of tenants had ties to the area, were stable in their jobs and could afford to pay their own way. It was a happy problem. The tenant who reigned victorious has already put in their deposit and is moving in next week. And I am getting for rent what I expected to get all along.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Dazzling With Brilliance

In an effort to keep Mr. Partner off my back appease Mr. Partner's diligent pursuit of information, I am working with Bliz to get the taxes done. Mr. Partner doesn't just want his K-1 statement that the IRS lovingly requires and Diamond Jim will once again prepare. He wants bank statements, a 2014 P&L statement and all sorts of other gobbledygook to clog his inbox.

Though he is really a great person (really!) I actually suspect he can't actually read financial statements.  This theory has been postulated by me after Mr. Partner has repeatedly asked over the past ten years basic questions any business owner should know. Like what is a P&L statement? And, I recommend not getting him started what a balance sheet happens to be and why owner's equity is a negative number.

Anyway, this weekend I sent Mr. Partner the first installment of documents that he will either oooh and ahhh over, ask Marty Sunshine a million questions about (he wouldn't dare ask me) and Marty will patiently explain again that whatever number he sees in the bank account does not equal how much money we have to our name (we pay bills with that money). Or, hopefully he will just be so overwhelmed with my e-mails, as I tend to send them in strategically timed batches, that he will set it all aside and forget about them.

____________________

And speaking of dazzling, might you remember, last December Bliz, on my behalf (I was traveling through the swampland at the time), wrote a letter to Mario saying my gazillion homes Kirby was managing weren't going to Mario. They were going to the new property management company.

Ever since then, Mario has had his A-Game on. If I ask a question, I get an answer within 24 hours. If he and his minions had shown this level of service at all in the past two years, I might have made other choices. 

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Does Amazon Sell Babble Fish?

One of the hardest issues I have had about doing business in the South is that the folks there continuously complain about my thick Northern accent.

Yes, really.

Actually, if truth be told, I have an even harder time with their Southern drawl. I bring this up because the language barrier darn near caused me a major stroke after a long list of other minor strokes this week.

It turns out, I don't have a trashed house. I have a house with trash in it. Lots and lots of trash. Not that it makes me any happier to know this. But my house isn't destroyed. It just needs to be cleaned up. There are thousands of dollars in difference between a "trashed house" and a "house with trash in it."

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Saving the Cell Minutes

My week ended with the following e-mail. Amy is another leasing agent at the new property management company's office. To his credit, Luigi e-mailed me back and gave me a partial solution. But I suspect I won't know more about my trashed house until Monday.

Hi Luigi,

I spoke with Ms. Amy and asked her to have you call me. I have changed my mind. Neither of us need to use our cell minutes on me ranting to you like a crazed lunatic and you saying whatever it is you normally say to furiously raving owners.
I am sure you are working this on your end. When you have solutions or a future game plan for this home, please be in touch.

Thanks,
Mrs. Landlord


Friday, February 21, 2014

Sucker Punched

I found out Thursday I have a home that has been trashed. My favorite home. Investors aren't supposed to have favorites, but I do.

I am too numb to be angry. It is compounded on to a long list of garbage that has defined my Alabama experience this month. I intend to blog more about it. But right now it might become legal and I know it is best to wait and let time soothe me.

I still don't know when I am flying to Birmingham. I was hoping I could put it off until the summer--which would be more ideal than going in a few weeks. But now I am not so sure. Experience tells me this will all work out and I won't have to raise hell and make promises that involve the Department of Real Estate and the Alabama Attorney General's Office. Or, I should say that wisdom tells me how sane people would handle this. I am hoping the person I have cleaning this up is handling it my way. If not, I may no longer be numb.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

The Great Calera Flood Aftermath

They house on Hysteria Lane in Calera now has a kitchen sink and dry walls and floors. The plumber is going on an around the world cruise. The tenant is still pissy that I am not compensating her for her inconvenience (that she caused. Did I mention she caused this and could have prevented it?). Insurance and I have squared up.

And, because I had pipes in four different homes burst, there is a new clause in all of my future leases from here to the end of time--and I don't care where you live, fee free to steal the concept. The wording is still a bit off. I have no idea if it will hold up in court, but I am hoping it will at least open up a few eyes. "Tenants are responsible for any damage done to the home caused by a water pipe breaking because of cold weather."

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Great News

It appears my tenant in Grayson Valley has paid in full. And even better! She hasn't called me.

According to Luigi, she is now asking if she can buy the house. I don't know if I want to sell the house right now. It is worth about what we paid for it. It cash flows pretty well. But if we don't sell it, it will all likelihood be vacant when this crazy tenant's lease is up.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

I Speak For Real Estate Professionals Everywhere When I Say...

Please know, Zillow is not always accurate. It is a Web site that gives false expectations to buyers and sellers and make agents look like idiots--even though we are usually correct and Zillow rarely is.

I am amazed at the number of people--people who actually talk with me for hours on end--who tell me I am credible until I tell them what their home is worth or what they should pay for the home they wish to buy. Then I am a half-baked snake oil saleswoman and know utterly nothing about the real estate industry.

Why? Because some anonymous Web site says otherwise.

And how was your day? 


Friday, February 14, 2014

Sociopaths Rn't Us

It is 24 hours later, cooler heads are prevailing and I have to tell you, my dear three readers, I feel as justified today in telling off that woman as I did yesterday. I am not a lose-my-cool with perfect strangers kind of girl. Generally I like to please and make everyone happy. But make no mistake: I have a backbone. That said, for the most part, I don't start phone conversations with perfect strangers by biting their heads off. It just isn't dignified.

After she talked to me, apparently the tenant called Daisy three times last night as well. She never mentioned once to Daisy that she called me in the afternoon. I find that odd. Daisy and I talked about it for a bit. The tenant is up to some weird game or has some strong need to be right or she feels, after living in my home hassle-free for several months, somehow justified in withholding the rent. None of those are logical, sane actions under the circumstances.

The biggest reason I feel like the tenant is playing a game is because my name is not on the title of the home--and the tenant looked up the title to find Marty Sunshine's name. That's how this whole thing started. She wanted to buy the home and found out that Daisy didn't own it, and mind you, Daisy never claimed to. And just for the record, there has been no conversation with us about selling this home.

However, when the tenant and I talked yesterday she never once asked who Marty Sunshine was, if I was married to him or what relationship I might have to him. She brought up a lot of extraneous fluff, but if her real issue--the one she has been bitching about for weeks to anyone in Birmingham who would listen--is that she wants to verify who owns the house before she pays us any more money, a sane thinking person would draw the conclusion that this one factor should have mattered to her if she was taking the time to call me. Yesterday it didn't matter to her.

Daisy and I have a bet going that this woman is skipping this weekend. I predict a Uhaul in her driveway tomorrow morning. I won't know if I am right until next week some time. I did tell Daisy to just start the eviction ball rolling. If they pay up (including late fees, process server fees, etc.), that's awesome. Then they can stay. If not, it is probably best to get rid of this sociopath sooner than later anyway.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Sins of Tenants' Past

To give you an idea of how things are going, I just found out today is Thursday and a client gently reminded me tomorrow is Valentine's Day and no, they would not be interested in looking for homes tomorrow if that was ok with me. And didn't I have someone special to share Valentine's Day with instead of with them?

I got home at 7:15 tonight, which is the earliest I have been home all week. Today I was only gone 12 and a half hours--a short day. I have lost four pounds this week alone because my car is not equipped with a refrigerator, though I have been carrying an ice chest of water in there for the past week. The kids' homeschooling lessons are consisting of art projects, Netflix documentaries and Minecraft. I am not whining. I am sharing with you a glimpse into my life.

Why is this going on? Because some woman in my home in Grayson Valley has decided she isn't going to pay the rent because the property management company doesn't own the house. Therefore as far as she is concerned, she doesn't have to pay (It still sounds stupid no matter how many times I say it). Though I thought this was resolved yesterday, it doesn't change two realities: 1) the mortgage is still due and 2) I haven't seen the rent money.

And, I am guessing after today I won't. You see, while slipping away for a sandwich today, my cell phone rang. It was my office and I quickly answered it figuring I was being asked some sort of innocuous question. Instead, the woman on the other end started asking me if I actually owed the home in Grayson Valley. After a few intrusive questions I refused to answer, I asked her who she was. She gave me her first name and then started asking me more intrusive questions. Finally, putting two and two together, I realized she was the tenant.

Her main question--which she asked and I answered no less than seven times--was did I own the house. Yes I do.

I countered every single time with where is the rent?

To be honest, I was unnerved that this stranger had found me and my place of employment. She knew who I was and where I worked. I realize that one can Google just about anything, but she made no apologies for doing so.

Instead, she kept saying she was unaware the property management company had changed hands. I pointed out I knew for a fact she had talked to Mario early on and he told her to call Daisy. And by the way, I knew she talked to Daisy too. She was visibly startled when I shared this with her. And by the way, where was my rent money?

She told me nobody had told her where to send the rent. I countered back with yes they did. And she had been told several times and she had been given five copies of her lease in the past few weeks. And furthermore, why didn't this become such an issue six weeks into the new property management changeover? And if it was really that big a deal, why didn't she address it the day her rent was originally due--which was January 1st.

She asked again if I was the owner. I told her I knew she checked the tax records because she had told Daisy she had done so. I also pointed out I had already answered that question, so pay or pack her stuff because she was a thief.

She said that being a "thief" was my "interpretation" and she was coming to me in "good faith." I explained it will be the court's interpretation too and she might want to look up the definition of "good faith" because she was two month's behind on the rent.

This went on for way too long with me getting angrier and angrier, not just at her but all of the others who have played this game before her. As she blathered on, the sins of tenant's past danced in my head, sounding just like this nutjob who was innocently suggesting her inability to pay rent is somehow my fault. I know this playbook.

This woman's twist to an old shtick was to go so far as to seek me out, intruding on my life. She violated my boundaries. I have enough experience to know this relationship will never get better. She needs to go.

As soon as she accused me of being belligerent, suggesting she was perfectly normal--given she had just taken time to find a perfect stranger 1,700 miles away at her job--I seethed, "You are a thief. You are the reason I am away from my family today. Pay up or get out of my house. I will sue you. I will garnish your wages and your husband's wages. I will evict you and put a judgement on your credit." And I hung up on her.

Though no longer furious, I am still shaken from such an intrusion. I honestly cannot tell you what this woman really wants from me. I called Daisy afterwards to let her know this woman contacted me and to call the lawyer. Let's get this party started. Apparently Daisy had hung up on her earlier in the day. My guess is she is moving and now she will blame it on me being unreasonable. That's ok. I am better off with her gone than any other nuttiness she might fling my way.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

"Mean" Is My Middle Name

It appears the folks in Grayson Valley have decided they want to stay. This came about when a process server kindly showed up at the Mrs.' job and gave her a special letter from me saying, "Pay up or get your stuff out of my house."

Though there are people who felt having this notice served at her work was mean, let me remind you: 1) I am an Aries. 2) This woman owes me rent and I knew where it would be convenient to find her. After all, I have to pay the process server, why make him work extra-hard. And by the way, the tenants are reimbursing me for the process server fee too. So, I just saved the tenant an extra $100 for not having the process server work nights and weekends. In essence, they should be thanking me.

I am told that the tenant was utterly shocked that I would take such extreme measures and after all, wasn't this a minor misunderstanding? The "misunderstanding" being she was refusing to pay the rent because Daisy's company did not own my home. They were only managing it and hence, she didn't owe them money. To her credit, the tenant apologized for her portion of this issue and hoped we could make amends. I believe she was waiting for similar words from Daisy, but I doubt they came--at least they shouldn't have.

All of this is allegedly going to be resolved by February 19 and she will be current by then. I am proceeding like I am evicting and calling an attorney on February 20th if she hasn't paid up.

Thursday, February 06, 2014

Consider THIS Your Notice


The reason I have property management companies taking care of my gazillion rental homes is so that I don't have to be intimately involved. DO YOU HEAR THAT MARIO, DAISY AND LUIGI????

Apparently they didn't.

This week has been one of those weeks that make me question why I give a percentage of my rental income to these folks. In fact, in the past four days, the drama has gotten intense enough that even Marty Sunshine is taking it upon himself to randomly say things like, "You know, you probably do need to book a ticket..." At which point I give him a dirty look and then my phone lights up with texts and phone calls from Birmingham and I provide some colorful commentary to my buzzing phone.

One of the biggest (but not THE biggest) issues this week has been the flood in my home in Calera that Mario and his minion, Bruce, manage. The flood was caused by a tenant who did not open the tap as the pipes thawed, and therefore the pipes exploded. I should also say the tenant in question teaches middle school science. Surely the science common core covers water expanding and contracting.

The tenant is also furious with me for not giving her money for her inconvenience. An inconvenience she caused. Apparently she has had a lot to say about me, my lineage and abilities to manage my home based on the fact I am not forking over a sizable amount of loot to make her forget that he kitchen is in disarray. Mind you, she has water now. But apparently the cabinetry is away from the wall and everything needs to dry out.

Did I mention the tenant caused this issue? Please don't forget that.

Just like everything in the South, the insurance adjuster is taking his sweet time getting this resolved. Today (Thursday), a week after the Great Calera Flood began, I heard from from him and then ten minutes later, I heard from Bruce. Apparently Bruce didn't have time today to meet the adjuster out at the house but he wanted me to know that it wasn't a problem. He would just have the tenant meet the adjuster instead. "Its all covered." Bruce said happily.

I wasn't impressed. "Just so I understand this, you are letting the tenant--who is extremely upset with me--meet the insurance adjuster without a chaperone?" I asked Bruce. "Does that sound like a good plan to you?"

Bruce,who really does seem like a nice guy, even if he is always acting afraid of me, stammered for a moment, assuring me it was fine. "What could go wrong?" He asked.

Plenty. How do we know the tenant will tell the truth? How do we know the tenant won't take it upon herself to tell the adjuster that something caused by the flood was "always broken"? And I gave Bruce a few other scenarios that came to mind. In the end, Bruce was back-pedaling, suggesting the adjuster probably could just wait until next week to see the house when Bruce was available.

"You know, when I come to town I will want to see the house," I said.

And that's when Bruce lost it. Going a full octave higher, he said, "You are coming to town?! You have to give me notice when you are doing that!"

As sweetly as possible, I explained to Bruce that I come to town often, and it really is no big deal. And of course I will let him know when I come.

However, Bruce could not be calmed. He continued to stammer about how I had to give him notice. And I couldn't "just show up," and went along in this vein for more of my cell minutes than I expected. To get the poor guy off the phone, I did promise him I would let him know, and I also told him I had no intention of meeting the tenant--who apparently hates me anyway. He agreed it would be a good idea not to let on I own the home when we inspect it. But, he added with all the authority he could muster in the end, "you must give us notice."




Sunday, February 02, 2014

Loopholes

Friday morning I was questioning why it was traditional to wait until later in the day to drink. Who came up with that rule anyway?

On top of the Great Calera Flood, I also had another doosy in North Birmingham. Apparently the tenant--who had been happily living at my home in Grayson Valley for more than 10 months--snapped.

You see, she has not paid January's rent. Nor will she agree to pay January's rent. And though she had paid her rent for the past ten months to a property management company, that wasn't going to happen any longer. According to the tenant, she had looked up the tax records, found Marty Sunshine's name as the owner of the home and decided that since Daisy's company wasn't named "Marty Sunshine" she summarily decided she no longer had to pay rent.

I will pause for a moment while you let that sink in, because it sounds stupider to me every time I see it too.

My first thought was simply the tenant doesn't have the rent. After all, she has been paying rent to a property management company since she moved in. Somehow Mario got involved this week and told her she needed to pay Daisy's company and yes, she owed the money.

The tenant also bawled out Daisy about the property management changeover a month earlier (which didn't bother the tenant until Friday) and complained about how nobody kept her in the loop (not true--she received about five letters from various parties--at least two of them were certified letters). Mind you she did this on the 31st day of the month, when rent is due on the first. So, essentially she is 30 days late and now squawking.

Nope, she doesn't have the rent.


There seems to be no convincing her that rent is owed and she has a contract--just like she did when she moved in. Daisy wanted to know what course of action I wanted to take. And mind you, Friday I was dealing with day four of a flu and insurance adjusters. My patience at an all-time low, I told Daisy exactly what she could do. If the rent was not in her office by Monday, tell them they have till Saturday to get their belongings out of I will evict. And then start the process on Tuesday morning anyway. That will make them move a lot faster on Saturday. And oh yes, please serve the tenant at her office.

I had years of crazy stuff like this. In fact, these crazies are the reason I have property management companies. I am not about to put up with this any longer than I have to. I know the game and I am not going to play.

Saturday, February 01, 2014

Blame Game

For you old timers, you may remember Facebook Debbie, an old acquaintance who posts every drama in her life from her running out of underwear because she hadn't done laundry, to posting how she was actually folding laundry. And of course, there were usually 537 other posts during the day.

She caught my eye--and subsequently made this blog--because she had a flood in the bathroom of her rental home. The landlord took care of it as quickly as humanly possible, but the work was slow. It lasted three days. She didn't have renter's insurance and many of her belongings (which weren't neatly put away) were water-damaged. She also managed do detect "toxic mold." In Arizona. In August. Neither is likely. Her saga played on for months with her finally suing--and loosing to--her former landlord for damages. She said the judge was blinded by the landlord's wealth and a few other absurdities that ended up in this blog.

I am only reminding you of this story, because I fear, dear three readers, I am about to live Facebook Debbie's Landlord's nightmare.

You see, Friday morning a pipe at my tenant's home burst. It burst because the tenant didn't turn on the tap so as the frozen pipe was thawing, the pressure inside the pipe could be released. Hence, more than 100 gallons of water flooded into my home and has done more damage than I can humanly imagine. I will eventually get pictures I am sure.

By mid-morning, a plumber was on the premises. Bruce, Mario's minion was also there. And by noon, the insurance company had been notified of the damage, a water restoration company had been called and all was moving forward as quickly as possible. Bruce and I had developed a game plan to effectively tackle this unfortunate accident.

However, it will be later today (Saturday) before the tenant has water. It will be several days before the house dries out and is back in ship-shape. It is up to the adjuster to decide if I need a new cabinet and carpet. I don't know. It depends how things dry out. And, that will obviously be the first step.

Also by mid-morning, the tenant had already called another of Mario's minions and asked what I was going to do to compensate the her. When Bruce told me this, I think he was expecting some sort of answer that would make everyone--especially which ever one of Mario's minions gets to be the messenger--feel better.

My answer was simply: I know this is a major inconvenience. And, I am working to restore this as quickly as possible. I am terribly sorry if the tenant is misplaced for a night. It is very unfortunate. The difference between the tenant owning the home and the tenant renting the home is who is going to pay the bill for this unfortunate occurrence. If the tenant owned the home, she would also be displaced and inconvenienced just long as if she rents it. So therefore, no. I will not give her any sort of money for her troubles. In fact, if she had just opened the tap the night before, she wouldn't have any troubles. And neither would I. And dare I say, I believe she owes me for my inconvenience. She caused this.

I somehow don't think anyone on Mario's staff will add that last part. But I wish they would.