Everything That Glitters...

Through the course of this accidental business, I had become fond of one specific home. In fact, I recently joked with Mr. Partner that I, being the youngest of us four partners, was going to out-live the rest of them, acquire the LLC by default and retire in this particular house.

The Pinson home is nestled in the mountains. The home has a fabulous front porch that spans the property's length. The home itself is rather cozy. It is a three bedroom, two bathroom of about 1,400 square feet with a two-car garage in the basement. I should mention the front of the home at the top of the hill, the garage and basement nestled into the hill with the back deck overlooking the two acres with the pond. All of this is exotic to me, a city-girl who has always wanted to live on a mountain in the woods with a view overlooking some water.

Last summer, a husband, wife and two itty-bitty toddlers  moved in. They had gone through the vetting process. In fact, the husband's credit score was in the mid-to-high 600s. They had the income to qualify and nothing suggested there would be a problem.

It is now March. And there is a problem. They never paid rent. And, the eviction process is still ongoing. It makes me ill to write this. Just ill. Apparently the husband is no longer employed and has "anger issues." He has beaten the hell out of his wife. In fact, I am told (by her) he has gone so far as to hide in the attic when the wife is gone, and when the she returns to what she thinks is a quiet home with her two children, he pops out of the attic only to break down my doors, smash my windows and do God knows what to those babies and their mama.

The house is in utter disarray. For one thing. The husband drove his truck through the garage door, so now the garage is boarded up. The electricity and water are off (though we found a generator hidden outside) and the electric box is hanging from a few wires to the wall. There are rotted food everywhere. In fact, the glass from one of the broken windows is still on the ground, right in reach of the toddlers. 

When we arrived last week to inspect, the wife let us in, gave us a song and dance about how she is moving out last week (of course she is!) and let us look around at the utter filth she is living in. Part of me--the part that wants to take those children home with me--felt for her. I listened to her story and believed her life is really the train wreck she made it out to be. That lasted about 15 seconds until sanity sunk in and became so angry I had to step outside before I lost it with her.

She and her idiot husband (wherever he might be--she says they are now estranged) have been stealing from me for months. They have trashed this home. Even when they move out, I will have lawyers to pay. Insurance may pay for a broken window and an electrical box, but insurance isn't going to give me enough to remove the rats that have made themselves at home in the basement from all the filth. Insurance won't give me enough to replace the flooring that is covered with moldy food, cigarette burns and whatever else disgusting things might be on there. Insurance isn't going to cover the corner of the basement I am presuming the woman is using for her personal toilet (we accidentally found that spot). And, insurance isn't going to reimburse me for my now-faded dream of retiring in this home.

In fact, this home is so bad, we probably won't recover from it. I had that inkling going over there (and hence, one of the main reasons for my trip). My worst fears were confirmed. The house will most likely be going back to the bank.

It is just a home. Our credit will bounce back eventually. We may invest again. Maybe. Maybe not.