That Tuesday

Tuesday came around, Bernice sauntered in to Luigi's office and happily filled out the application to rent my home. It was the quietest 15 minutes of my day. Because, as soon as she was done, she then continued to text me asking for all sorts of items to be fixed. Many were cosmetic. And many more were ridiculous. But, in truth, the home wasn't move-in ready, I gave her a break on the rent for the first month and told her we would call it even.

At the same time the texts from Bernice were coming in, e-mails from Flunky the Maintenance Asshat were coming in to me, giving me updates on what a spectacular job his crew was doing at this house. I have never, ever, received updates from Flunky before on any job, or frankly, since.

Flunky's e-mails sent a spark of guilt through me. What I asked of everyone there was a major imposition. It was a fire drill. Please stop what you are doing, get my home ready to rent and approve my tenant in record time. I knew what I was asking when I was doing it, and I am beyond grateful they stepped up. They didn't have to. And they probably won't again--but I am getting ahead of myself.

So, back to Bernice. A credit and background check revealed that Good O'le Bernice has an open bankruptcy. She also has a fresh--like less than two month's ago--eviction she had neglected to mention to me. I had asked her some basic questions on Sunday when I was talking to her and somehow she forgot to mention these two itsy-bitsy issues. Certainly she revealed she had bruised credit but she neglected to tell me about the two absolute-I-will-not-rent-to-you-EVER deal killers. She also told me she made three times the monthly rent. And, as expected at this point, apparently Bernice's best subject in school wasn't math.

When I called Bernice back (she feigned surprise she had an eviction--how does one not know this??? and furthermore how stupid did she think I was that she thought I would believe she didn't know she had been summoned in front of a judge?) I said, "Tell me right now why I should rent to you." At which point, Bernice gave me a lovely song and dance about why she was worth taking a chance on. I wasn't convinced. Jeff, Luigi's leasing agent, agreed with me. Bernice was not worth it.

However, this home belongs to four people: The Partners, Marty Sunshine and me. As I am only one-fourth of the vote, I was over-ruled. The truth is, most likely if we don't put Bernice in this house, we are putting a Section 8 crack whore in there. In some ways, Bernice with her open bankruptcy and six-week old eviction looked a lot prettier than what else we could expect. At least that was Marty Sunshine's thinking. Essentially, we could at least get Bernice to baby-sit this particular home at least through the holidays. It wasn't that I agreed, I just saw the other side of the coin: I know what could expect from this neighborhood. Heck, even counting my home in Pinson (in foreclosure) this was the home that has been trashed the worst. At least Bernice didn't seem like the type to trash it.

When push came to shove, Marty Sunshine over-ruled me. I made him send me an e-mail saying I had no say in the matter and if this turned out to be the train-wreck I was expecting it to be, I am absolved of all responsibility.

I then called back Bernice, told her she was approved. I told her I wasn't messing around. One wrong move and she was out in the street (right... like I can make that stick). I did my best to sound like the grumpy curmudgeon I had become that day. She replied with several variations of "Thank you Mrs. Landlord. I will take great care of your place. Thank you. Thank you." She then spared my cell minutes but continually followed up with additional texts with the same sentiment.

Once I gave the astonished ("Seriously, you are going to rent to her? Have you lost your mind?") Jeff the green light to approve her. He called Bernice and told her to come in Wednesday morning and sign the lease. He went over the terms and conditions. What her move-in up front money would be. He reminded Bernice I had given her a reduction in rent and wasn't I just awesome? Apparently Bernice was thrilled--at least that is what the leasing agent told me.

Long around 7 p.m. my time that night, Bernice sent me yet another text. She wasn't moving in. Because, even though she had to be out of her apartment by the next morning, it turns out she didn't have the security deposit. Oops! So, thanks anyway for jumping through all these hoops and "taking a chance on her". But no.