Random Bama A Week In The Life

So I did ask Mr. Ex-Partner if he took Monday off to deal with all things Alabama. Yes, he did. But, according to him, he has it "under control" now.

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In a weird turn of events, I actually talked to Mario this week. It had nothing to do with Mr. Ex-Partner. Instead, I was hunting down a lease (for a home he has never managed, but that's another story). However, since I had his attention for the first time in, what? three years, I mentioned I had given his contact information to Mr. Ex-Partner. This is because our LLC is broken up and Mr. Ex-Partner has fired Luigi's company. And then Luigi fired Mr. Partner... but I digress.

I told Mario--and meant it in the nicest possible way--I thought Mario's personality would work better with Mr. Ex-Partner's. Mario would tell it like it is, even if Mr. Ex-Partner didn't want to hear it.

I explained Mr. Ex-Partner has opted to handle everything by himself, and therefore, please expect an introductory e-mail in a few weeks when Mr. Ex-Partner comes to his senses.

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By the way, Mario insists his prices are "no longer" as expensive as Luigi's and he sent me a rate sheet, just in case I want to come on board. No. No I don't. But I have other reasons for this.

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It appears the bank tried to withdraw a mortgage payment from the now defunct LLC. The account was closed, but automatically re-opens when a payment is extracted (even if it is extracted without authorization). Now the account is reopened. And the damn bank charged me NSF fees. It looks like I will be taking a day off from work myself to straighten this mess out.

Luigi's Response

I did hear from Luigi. It was a private message to only me. He has decided instead of writing up an addendum saying he will be bullied around and told how to run company that he has successfully be running for 20+ years, he will just step back, and let Mr. Ex-Partner find a company who is a better long-term fit.

However, the very next day Luigi did write to Mr. Ex-Partner with the following response. Iced tea shot out of my nose when I read this: "I think it may be in our interest to let you manage these houses."

Not well acquainted with Southern mores, Mr. Ex-Partner actually replied to this and asked "why?" I don't see Luigi answering, but if he does, I am sure it will be more blog fodder.

I already gave Mr. Ex-Partner Mario's contact info.

He's Gonna Run Out of Vacation Days if He Keeps This Up Much Longer

So Mr. Ex-Partner clearly took the day off from work on Monday to pepper the South (and me) with about six-million e-mails. I will spare you the most of them, because I like you three. But this one caught my eye. It was the first time he had ever communicated with Luigi. I will tell you this, he did use "Mr." in his introduction. So, so pleased he caught on.

Mr. Property Management Company Owner,

I am not sure that I need your services at this time. I may in the future, so I will hold on to your agreement for future reference.

I would like to know that when I do need your services, that I can get an addendum to your agreement that stipulates that NO Section 8 people would be considered for my rental properties, and that there would be a consequence for your company if you did allow someone to rent my properties under Section 8. Something to the effect that all repairs required when a Section 8 person leaves the property would be the responsibility of your company. It has been my experience that Section 8 people have no respect for a person’s property, and do not take care of it, and always leave them in a shambles. So I will not tolerate these types of people renting my properties. Let me know if this can be worked out.

Can we please translate this: You don't know me, but please be a patsy and agree to something in writing that I, as the owner, can just refuse from the get-go. After all, I have the final say in who rents my home. 

However, this wasn't the end of it. Luigi wrote him, back and said "ok, thanks for letting me know" (in response to Mr. Ex-Partner won't need his services). He did not acknowledge the remaining paragraph. About an hour later, Mr. Ex-Partner sent the following e-mail (and that reminds me, perhaps Mr. Partner could just pick up the phone once in a while and TALK to these people). I am starting to feel sorry for both of them. This was the entirety of the e-mail. 

 I might need you sooner than I thought. And more specifically what is your determination on the Section 8 Addendum that I was asking about?

I can already tell you what Luigi's "determination" of that addendum happens to be. At this time, I have not heard back from either of them. But I am sure Mr. Ex-Partner will be e-mailing me (and I am glad he isn't calling) asking why Luigi hasn't replied.

That Took A Turn

Well now, the optimism I had that Mr. Ex-Partner had learned a thing or two over the course of the last couple of weeks was squashed today when I got his e-mail. He has opted to fire Luigi's company and "manage these homes himself." Of course he added a caveat that it would be with my "recommendations."

My recommendation is not to manage them himself. And if he chooses to go this route, be sure to read the Alabama Landlord Tenant Act.

They Really Should Hire an Armadillo

In typical Alabama fashion, I am getting the runaround. Today's joy is from Luigi's property management company.

I should preface this by saying, when I proclaim Luigi's property management company is one of the best I have found in Birmingham, it isn't high praise. It is more like frustrated resignation. I work for a property management company. Up until 2012 I owned a property management company. Even if you took Luigi's best practices, they aren't nearly as good as having a attention deficit armadillo run the whole thing.

Last month, in anticipation for the LLC dissolution, I reached out to Luigi and Joe the accountant in his office. I explained this was happening. The rents for these homes go here. The rents for those homes go there. Send the corresponding statements to the right individuals. God speed.

I am pleased to say in June, the guy running the accounting department got it right. Frankly, it wasn't terribly difficult. I happen to know what software they are using. Even I can handle it--that's how simple it is.

However, there seems to have been some regression. For whatever reason, this month, the homes are once again mashed together in one report, and it was sent to me. I have't seen any of the rent money, but Mr. Ex-Partner will go to the ends of the universe to exact his revenge if one extra penny is given to me if it belongs in his account.

Last night, when I discovered this, I sent an e-mail to all the parties involved, reminding them of our changes and how they did manage this correctly last month, so why stop that level of excellence now? I also inquired about two homes that were taken out of management that are showing existing charges. Why? Why is this going on?

In Luigi's company's fashion, instead of just owning the mistakes, I have received lots of vague excuses instead. Which, at this point, does nothing to up my opinion of them. My last communication with Luigi was simply, "FIX IT." Hopefully that sums up my sentiment.

Mrs. Roebuck

There are some accidental business decisions that are based on sanity and stability and less on money. And for the record, Mr. Ex-Partner knew upfront about such decisions, was part of the decision-making process and never uttered an unkind word about any of them prior to July 1, 2016. One of these decisions will make little sense on the surface, but after doing this for more than a decade, I promise you, my conscience is clear.

Once upon a time, we bought a home--a home I really don't like and at the time was wary of. After escrow closed we found out a few things. 1) it was on a mildly busy street 2) it has one bathroom and 3) it is not in the kind of neighborhood we were led to believe it was in. A lot of our due diligence was based on the agent we hired who purposely misled us. She gave us information for us to review. However, that information was not only incorrect, it was downright dishonest. That agent has long since passed from real estate and is now ministering her loving care as a nurse somewhere. Bless her heart.

When we bought the house, the Birmingham rental market was fabulous. The price (at the time) was right. We were making a profit on this house. As soon the economy tanked, it was a different story and this home was hit the hardest. I spoke with LegalEagle at the time about the lack of misrepresentation we received. She felt we didn't stand a chance, given the market conditions at the time we purchased, the fact the home had been continually rented for years and up until then, we were making a profit. And to LegalEagle's credit she did do some research before she threw her answer at me.

When the tenant moved out in 2008, the home stayed vacant for too long. By the time we got a renter, we were mildly desperate. Mind you, in 2008 we had a 81 percent vacancy rate. So, the first folks to come along, we took. The story behind them would be legendary if I could speak freely about it. But when I finally kicked them out, they had decimated the house, committed numerous potential felonies in it and left behind a white powdery substance I had to testify about. The fact I was not given a choice about talking to a judge, had to fly to Birmingham and testify at all--and the judge cared more about the people in the home and less about the condition--should give you a grand idea of what I faced.

To put it mildly, those tenants trashed the home beyond all recognition. And given 2008 and 2009's banner years (which you can read about in the blog archives) I promise you we were out of money. Even Mr. Ex-Partner was flat.

So, along came Mrs. Roebuck. She offered to live there and fix up the home. She had a modest income and she had time. And somehow we were covering the mortgage without her payment. Additionally the LLC wasn't paying for the supplies, repairs and rehabilitation and we had a phenomenal tax break. The way we looked at it, and we were all on board, was we could put a Section 8 crack whore in there, a notorious gang member (which I think the tenants prior were) or keep it vacant. Without Mrs. Roebuck's charitable offering, the place would sit vacant and vulnerable otherwise. Essentially, Mrs. Roebuck was protecting our asset, which was better than making a profit.

The neighborhood in question, which was so-so back then, has taken a turn for the scary. There is a methadone clinic a few doors over. There is thug and gang activity. My HVAC unit was stolen, in broad daylight, twice. The second time with a locked cage wrapped around the unit. Lest you think I am exaggerating, Carolsue, who was working there last January witnessed an armed robbery right across the street.

I am going to fast forward here. Mrs. Roebuck moved out eventually. Other renters moved in and out. And most recently, the house sat vacant for almost 10 months. Additionally, against our wishes the folks at the property management company would just hand over the home's keys to "potential tenants" and tell them to go have a look (Ms. Amy lied about this, but it just so happens Carolsue was working there more than once when it happened). By the way, while Ms. Amy was just randomly handing out keys (and denying it), the home was robbed and vandalized. Again.

The property management company also assured me they would find a non-Section 8 tenant. But that wasn't going to happen either. Non-Section 8 tenants don't live in this neighborhood. So, a few months ago, long before the decision to disband, Mrs. Roebuck approached us about moving back in and paying a modest amount of rent. I ran this by everyone and it was agreed upon.

Last month when we were splitting things apart, Mr. Ex-Partner got this house. And all of the sudden the poor dear had a terrible case of selective memory. While he was looking over all of the numbers, he discovered Mrs. Roebuck was paying less-than-market rent. True. But Mrs. Roebuck was taking care of this house. She was even adding a wooden deck out back. And even better, she was not spreading a white powdery substance all over the place or potentially committing felonies. And to my knowledge, she does not belong to a gang.

But, Mr. Ex-Partner was undeterred. After all, according to Zillow (sigh) he could get more rent! And, if he talked to the property management companies they would concur, though they wouldn't mention who would be renting the place. And given two property management companies I have employed couldn't rent out the house the last four times it sat vacant (I found the renters prior to this vacancy as well) I doubt it will go well. But whatever, I have lived it, he hasn't.

Less than five days into managing this property solo Mr. Ex-Partner contacted Mrs. Roebuck and asked her for a higher rent amount. Marty Sunshine and I shook our heads. He is making a big mistake if he asks her to leave. As it turns out, Mrs. Roebuck is leaving. She has decided she doesn't want to deal with Mr. Ex-Partner and especially the shenanigans in this neighborhood anyway.

How To Speak Southern

So Mr. Ex-Partner is being blown off by Ms. Angie. In my opinion, part of the reason behind this is because he got off to a bad start with her--though I doubt he knows it. I am not saying that's the only reason, but he would have done better to pick up the phone and introduce himself than start the very first e-mail to her with "Angela, Where is my rent?"

The fact is, she owes the rent and she picked a really bad month to start this game with him. However, that's not how folks in the South see things. It is a warped logic that I can't fully grasp. But essentially manners are paramount--even when you are asking a potential deadbeat tenant for money.

Anyway, a couple of days ago, Mr. Ex-Partner sent me an e-mail asking where Ms. Angie's rent happens to be (hell if I know, she isn't my tenant) and said she is non-responsive. In a gesture of sympathy I wrote her on his behalf. I then forwarded him the e-mail. The subtext is in blue. Hopefully he caught on and will use this as a boilerplate for future written communications. With any luck, the next e-mail he cc's me on will look more acceptable.

Hey Ms. Angie, (I recognize we are not on a casual first name basis.)

How are you doing? How's the grand babies and the kids?  (We simply cannot discuss the reason for this e-mail until the formalities are out of the way, even if you are telling a convicted murderer he is sentenced to death. For example, "Mr. Murderer, How is your cell? Comfortable? I hope you slept well last night.... Now then, the jury got together and decided they just couldn't see their way to let you walk for this one..." )

Mr. Ex (You don't know him, but he is a nice, mostly harmless kind of fellow therefore he is "Mr." and his first name.) said you are struggling with the rent this month  (you haven't paid and frankly, you gave a seriously lame reason why). I am sorry to hear that (bless your heart). He is a good guy, but a serious stickler on communication so please be sure to stay in touch with him (Have you lost your mind!? Don't make him hunt you down!). You have been there too long to throw it all away now (and he will kick your butt to the street and not look back) and you have worked too hard! (How long have you been there? He has no loyalty. Take this seriously you are days from eviction.)

My best to you and yours, (Seriously, CALL HIM!)

Your Former Landlord (It is ok to call me by my first name because this is just a friendly missive. Do note the lack of Mrs. or Ms.)

Ps. Don't forget to send me grand baby pictures some time. (I like the grand baby pictures.) 

Say Anything

If you asked me last week, I would have said I half expected Mr. Ex-Partner to be under my window, holding a boom box, blasting a Peter Gabriel song. Every day, I would get either a cc'd e-mail from him to one of the tenants, or a note to me with some sort of tid-bit I did not need to know. For example, he wrote me last week to inform me he paid his bills. I read the e-mail twice, wondering if this was just general information or if he wanted a pat on the back. The remainders of his e-mails were veiled complaints about how much "work" running an accidental business happens to be and how "difficult."

Fortunately my level of apathy is running high and I just didn't have anything useful to say, so I didn't. As I have done this for years, with no mentorship and no guidance and had to figure everything out on my own, I have little sympathy for him.

Somehow I managed to channel my lack of concern because it appears Mr. Ex-Partner has changed his tune. Yesterday, in a move that did more to annoy me than anything else, he wrote Bliz and cc'd me, saying he no longer needed her services, so hurry up and finish the books. Other than the fact he blew off Bliz (I got your back, Sis), he told her the reason he did this was because he has taken on too much debt. It is lucky for him I live across town because I became unglued. Seriously, "too much debt?" Where has he been?

Mr. Ex-Partner also wrote me personally saying he would be using his own accountant from now on and Diamond Jim was no longer going to be employed. Again, I am not sure why I needed this nugget, but that works for me. I am sure Diamond Jim (who referred to him only as "Mr. Manners") will be doing cartwheels when he gets the news.

I think at this point, what I would like to help Mr. Ex-Partner do is set up his own blog. He may need it.

19 Days

Mr. Ex-Partner asked about property management today.

Five Years

Today marks five years since Late-Attorney Jon left this life. I think about his widow and five daughters sometimes and wonder how they are holding up. Suicide affects even the most peripheral of all of us. I wonder if he would have been able to get over his challenges if he were still alive. Would he have been happy now had he chosen a different path? Would the pain that drove him to make that ultimate decision have subsided had he lived? One will never know. What I do know is, despite his demons, he was a good man, father and husband, a cornerstone in my accidental business and someone I am proud to have known.

The End of the HOA Fun

There was a certain degree of professionalism that kept me from writing the following letter today:

Dear Homeowner's Association of Hysteria Lane,

Effective immediately Mr. Ex-Partner is the owner of this property. Please send all of your arbitrary nastiness and gestapo correspondence to him directly and leave me alone. Additionally, as you folks have never bothered to even send a copy of your CC&R's anywhere past your filing cabinet, please send him a copy too. He will delight in all of your capricious empire-building and petty threats of lawsuits that won't hold up under scrutiny, but will waste everyone's time. He likes that kind of stuff and will be quick to tell you how much.

Sincerely,

The Other Ex Partner

Running Itself

Last week, Carolsue said these infamous words: "I give Mr. Ex-Partner six months before he puts all of his homes in property management." Though I know Mr. Partner is absolutely, 100 percent against using a property management company (they cost money), I countered with six weeks. I think we are both wrong.

Over the weekend, I have heard from two tenants of the homes he manages. One is moving for sure. The other wrote me and bluntly said, "I don't like this guy." Given he cc'd me on both of the e-mails he wrote to these folks (I wish he would stop doing that), I am not sure I blame them. General basics of "please" and "thank you" go a long way in society in general--even if you aren't in the South.

Additionally, Carolsue sent him a "Howdy, would you like some help," note and he promptly dismissed her (and cc'd me on it). So, I am not sure how he plans on finding new tenants and showing the homes if he doesn't use property management or Carolsue.

Long ago, before any of our homes were in property management and I was spending hours every day dealing with tenant issues, Mr. Ex-Partner bragged to a bunch of people in my ear-shot that this accidental business "runs itself!" For the past 10 days, he's been watching Alabama "run itself". I bet he doesn't think that now.

The First Domino

This used to be my favorite home. It is on a few acres, nestled in the mountains. The porch. Did you see the porch???

Don't be fooled. The pictures make it look fabulous compared to the last time I saw the place. Flunky put up the plywood over the missing garage door at some point prior to the rest of the home's destruction. That same plywood is now pulled off and I am guessing someone, or someones, have gone in to take a peek and see how much copper is left. As you can see, someone already helped themselves to the appliances. There are missing cabinet doors and I happen to have heard there are holes inside the cabinets where sides used to be.

If this blog had smell-o-vision, you would probably want to pass on the basement pictures. Sadly, instead of using the toilets, the last tenants used the basement for their business. I suspect they did that for months. That also may explain why the bathrooms look so, um, pristine.

Had this house been in reasonable condition when the tenants moved out, we might have been able to salvage everything and move forward. I calculated the damage upwards of $40,000 the day I saw it in 2015. And that was only the visible damage. That didn't include the copper wiring, which turns out it was sold (for who knows what) or plumbing (ditto) or anything else I forgot. Though one can see the pictures, this really is a shell of a home at this point. If you don't believe me, look at the price for sale.

It is those last tenants who are responsible for the destruction of this home. It is these people who will never know (nor care) how much damage they have done in my life. They are not accountable. They have no conscience. After all, according to them, we are the "rich landlords" and we deserve it. Right?

This home is one of the reasons why we had no choice but to sell out the LLC. We have been told by two attorneys Marty and I can expect to be sued because of this house. That isn't a dramatic statement. We know it is coming. We are at peace. There comes to a point where enough is enough. It was time to let it go. This is our first domino.


Note: if you look at the bottom of the listing it says we paid $146,000 for this property. I am not sure who told Zillow such nonsense, but no. This, class (and repeat after me), is why we never, ever trust Zillow when it comes to a home's value. 

Not Teaching an Ex-Partner New Tricks

Once upon a time, I visited relatives in the South (next to the swamp, no less). This was in the early 1980s, where I was indoctrinated in Southern Culture. Since that time, I have also traveled to Atlanta on business several times, which also included side-trips of five hours to the same relatives and, at least once (as a small mercy offered by my cousin), a midnight four-wheeling drive through that same swamp to search for alligators--which, by the way we found in droves. It was better than the alternative, which was to have my aunt, with her arms crossed and cigarette dangling from her mouth, grill me about why that "Good-For-Nothing Marty Sunshine" had not bothered to marry me because, as far as she was concerned, I was an Old Maid and running out of time.  All this is to tell you, when our accidental business started, I was no stranger on how to address people in the South.

For the most part, I did not grow up in the South, nor did Marty or Mr. Ex-Partner. Here in Yankee territory, unless your mother insisted otherwise (I insisted otherwise), children may call adults by their first name. Adults address other adults by their first name. It isn't rude; it is just how things are.

However, the South is not so generous. A person, no matter what status--from Emperor to Hobo, may not call the woman by her first name. If he/she does not know the woman's last name, then it is customary to call the woman something along the lines of Ms. Landlord. If he/she knows the woman's last name it is always Ms. Sunshine. This is a hard-fast rule. Only when one has been given permission or through some sort of unwritten form of body language may you refer to someone by their first name. To do otherwise, would be a gross faux pas and a complete insult.

Now the rules for how women address men ("Mr. Jones," or "Mr. Bubba Roy" until otherwise told) or how men address men ("Bubba Roy") are a bit different in the South, but that's not what this blog is about.

Mr. Ex-Partner, who is having a difficult time letting go, has been cc'ing me on e-mails to tenants. And he seems absolutely shocked that the people he is contacting aren't responding. I could tell right away why this is so. When I saw his note to Ms. Angie where he referred to her as "Angela," I gasped in horror. When I saw his e-mail to Mrs. Sherwood Forest where he started it by saying, "Sherwood," I muttered, "Bless his heart..." and meant it. (Incidentally, when I told Polly this happened, she sucked in a breath of air, had scandalous look on her face and said, "NO!")

I asked for counsel from Bliz and Marty Sunshine if I should gently mention to Mr. Partner that he has committed a serious social sin. Both told me not to bring it up. "He will figure it out," is what Marty said. Independently, Bliz commented, "You learned, he will too." I am just not sure he will learn fast enough.

The Honeymoon is Over

Finn, also weary of Mr. Ex-Partner's antics today. 

Though I was sort of hoping I had more time, I really wasn't surprised when Mr. Ex-Partner started contacting me at 7 a.m. this morning. You see, since July 1, which was the day we officially disbanded the LLC, there has been drama. In this case, the drama came when Mr. Partner whipped out the old calculator and figured out that the out flow doesn't match the in flow. And though I have explained this phenomenon to him on a many, many occasions (this happens every July and December for a myriad of logical reasons), it came as a bit of a shock to him today because he is now having to look at this stuff on a daily basis.

In addition to the extra bills (and he ended up with less bills than Marty and I did, but you don't see us whining), apparently a couple of his tenants went MIA. So, the five hours of constant communication today was him saying things like, "Where? Where is my rent?" and me saying, "Why not call your tenants and find out?", which translates to "Hell if I know. Dude, figure it out." 

There were other comments too, like maybe I could send a letter and introduce him so the tenants wouldn't be surprised at the transition. I reminded him I gave him hard copies of that exact letter I wrote last week, but if he misplaced them, here were the same letters again for him to review. He also suggested I didn't actually send tenants a head's up they were supposed to deposit their rent into the correct bank account, and could their rent have gone somewhere else instead? Nope, the "somewhere else" account is closed as of last Friday. 

After that, he wanted me to prove I really sent the please-make-sure-you-deposit-rent-into-the-right-bank-account letter out. At which point I kind of did this "bless your heart" e-mail that basically said he had gotten on my last nerve I didn't have time, as I was under a tremendous deadline. I didn't point out that I managed nicely without this post-LLC micro-managing for years. 

Though he did his best to suggest I do his work for him (not my problem any more, thank you very much!), I didn't bite. I did tell him it was unfortunate this kind of thing happened, Murphy has a wicked sense of humor and I mentioned for the 20th time that I am sure if he contacted the tenants directly (instead of me) he might have better luck finding out where his rent happens to be. What I didn't say was, "You have used up five hours of my day. Why???"

I am quite aware had we not broken up the LLC this issue would have been mine and I would have spent my day hunting these folks down. And of course, I probably would have written about it, so you three readers wouldn't have missed anything exciting anyway. I am also acutely aware I wouldn't have lit up Mr. Ex-Partner's patch of cyber space with constant demands, micro-managing requests and vague pleas for help. Not because I know everything, but because I, too, had been where he is. And you know what? I figured out what to do. But I digress...

Incidentally, later in the day Mr. Ex-Partner cc'd me on an e-mail to one of the tenants (he finally e-mailed her) saying he expects with "any luck" I will still be involved. I am not sure whose "luck" he is thinks he is speaking of. 

I Don't Believe He Was Really Thankful

It appears Mrs. Sherwood is looking to sue someone. And, as I no longer own, nor manage Mrs. Sherwood's home, I am pretty sure I am mostly in the clear. But, before I go on, I am thisclose to taking back all of the nice things I have ever said about her. This whole issue seems scripted and doesn't pass my smell test.

You see, Mrs. Sherwood is claiming her home had an issue that is causing her health to decline. As soon as she brought the issue to us, we took care of it in a timely manner. Today I got a text message--actually it was a screen capture of a text message, making me think she is documenting--saying, "I have gone to the doctor and they seem to think..." and a bunch of other bunk (though I don't wish her any ill health).

What I happen to think is some lawyer somewhere sent out a pamphlet saying "How to sue a landlord," and this particular issue was in it. Essentially, every move she has made for the past several weeks regarding this issue seems to be from some playbook.  However, I believe she will have a hard time pinning this on her landlord. First, we acknowledged the problem right away and remedied it in a timely fashion. Second, it would be extremely difficult to prove her health wasn't in "jeopardy" prior to this issue coming to our attention. And third, as the saying goes, you can't get blood out of a turnip.

Because I thought this issue was resolved last month, I didn't bother to tell Mr. Ex-Partner in any great detail, other than to update him at the time it was resolved. However, after the screen capture of the text today, I felt compelled to call him and give him the nitty=gritty. He is on the same page as me: Prove negligence. At the end of our call, he said, "Thanks. I think."

He will probably be thinking about thanking me a lot in the next few months.

Mr. Partner

Lest you think I wish to kick Mr. Partner in the shins and spill his strawberry ice cream cone all over the ground, I don't. I actually like Mr. Partner. I have known him for about 20 years. I know I will like him better when he and I aren't involved in anything financial. Uncle Sunshine once told the the only kind of ship that doesn't float is a partnership.

Mr. Partner actually had more experience in property management than I did when this started. I relied on his advice. However, I quickly overtook him in knowledge, but that doesn't mean I don't respect him or the role he has played in our accidental business. I also realize, as a real estate agent, I am trained to play for a win-win solution. Mr. Partner is not. Some of my decisions weren't as long-term profitable as his would be. Some of his decisions would have netted us more up front, but harmed us in the long run.

Also, I am not certain Mr. Partner realizes there is a learning curve and initiation process to do business in the South. The South is a different culture. I caught on quickly (I am pleased to say). I am not sure Mr. Partner will. He may even try to go in with his Yankee ways and find out there are people more passive aggressive than him out there. I don't wish that for him. He and Mrs. Partner are really great people and I want the best for them.

One Last Cry*

I thought once the Dissolution Agreement was signed, letting go of the LLC, I would feel this joyous burst of gratitude. And though I was momentarily relieved Mr. Partner signed the Agreement, it wasn't anything like the cathartic experience I was expecting. In truth, I equate the entire process to a loved one dying a slow death. There is no true release when they pass. You have been expecting it. It is now a new normal part of your normal.

Right after my last trip to Alabama in March of 2015, I stopped stressing about Alabama. I saw my favorite home completely trashed and the dream died. There was no stopping the financial storm that was heading our way. Coupled with the idiots at the bank who called our second loan due and refused to work with us, we were out of options. The tears dried up right about then.

So, dissolving the LLC wasn't terribly emotional. I was anxious to be done, in the way a young child is anxious for Christmas. I was anxious for Mr. Partner to sign the Dissolution Agreement. That was my trigger that would signify it was over. I wanted it to be over. Though there is a transition plan in place, most of it is administrative work and I will say no to anything I don't want to do if Mr. Partner asks. I am ok with that. I will sleep at night with this decision. My help will be willingly or not at all. I am not obligated. Mr. Partner is treading lightly because he knows this too.

As part of the transition plan, I needed to tell the tenants who are not in property management Mr. Partner was taking over and he was the new landlord. The letters took three minutes to compose. As I started addressing the letter to Ms. Angie, I thought about how cold my words felt. After all, a typed letter from someone you consider a friend for the past nine years seemed heartless. Even after I signed it and shoved it in the envelope, it didn't sit right with me.

Then, I addressed Mrs. Sherwood's envelope. Mrs. Sherwood is by far the best tenant anyone could ever ask for. Plus, I really like her. Staring at her letter for some time, I picked up my pen and added a few choice sentiments. I told her how much I had enjoyed getting to know her. How she truly was the best tenant I ever had. I thanked her for our countless conversations. And, hopefully I didn't overstep, I invited her to keep in touch.

Then, I tore open Ms. Angie's envelope and wrote a few words too. It was as I was writing to Ms. Angie, mentioning her beautiful family and grandchildren, that I lost it. The dam burst. I had to reprint Ms. Angie's letter because by then it was soggy and the ink was smudged from my tears. I was going to miss Ms. Angie so much. This woman has worked herself to to the bone make sure her kids weren't street thugs. She dedicated herself to her children, dedicated her time to make sure she had a home for them. I have the utmost respect for her. And I doubt I said so the way I wanted to in my letter.

I told Bliz later how writing the tenant letters got to me. I wasn't expecting the burst of emotion. She replied, "It's because you care." And that's the truth. It has never been about the homes. It has been about the people I have met along the way.


*And speaking of the people I have met along the way, I was introduced to Brian McNight's "One Last Cry" by a former tenant and friend of McKnight's (they knew each other in Muscle Shoals, the music capital of Alabama). I heard if for the first time one day in 2006 when this tenant sent it to me. 

The Transition Plan

Just like the UK's exit from the European Union--well, maybe not exactly just like it--we too have an exit plan. A good portion of it was completed prior to dissolving. But some had to wait until we finished. All of this was laid out the Dissolution Agreement.

What was getting on my nerves by Thursday morning was the countless questions Mr. Partner had about relatively simple things. Granted, he is new at managing homes in Alabama, some of these items were more than simple. For example, Kirby is my HVAC guy (and real estate agent). Was he to write one check and put the homes in the memo line, or one check for the work done at each home? And while we were talking about Kirby, who authorized him to work on the ACs on these homes anyway? That kind of simple. (And for the record, I don't care if he writes one check or more. I doubt Kirby cares either.)

At one point I grumbled to Marty, "You know, I did this for 14 years without anyone holding my hand. I managed. Why can't this man can't handle 14 hours on his own?"

And then, as if Mr. Partner was magically standing in the doorway, eavesdropping, he called Marty, right then and there. He and Mrs. Partner had a "brilliant" idea! Why don't Mr. Partner and I go on a trip to Birmingham and I can introduce him to everyone? I didn't get a chance to practice my withering look on Marty before he replied into the phone, "What a great idea!" and then to me, he added, "When do you want to go?"

Of course, that is a loaded question, because the answer is never. I never want to go. I have been there. With very few exceptions, I have no reason to want to go back. And the idea of spending days of quality time with Mr. Partner while he relives ancient history of how we got to the moment of time we split the homes and then questions every decision I made up until when he took back over his homes, did not sit well with me (seriously, Kirby charged me  $75 for an AC fix and he questioned if I could have done better and when had been the last time I shopped around for such services?). Nor did him seeing that Marty and I inadvertently got the better homes (I swear, it was happenstance--we also have higher mortgages and less stable tenants) sound like a great use of my time. Given how selective his memory happens to be, I don't see this boding well--and I will be the one who hears about it first.

But what really got me about his phone call was that sometime early during the Prexit process this idea was bandied about. It was brought up once as an afterthought. That said, Mr. Partner could not remember anything of significance for the past two weeks, but somewhere in the recesses of his memory, he came up with the conversation where I agreed to go to Birmingham with him. His selective memory is maddening. As we left it, I conceded to go, but refused to commit to a date. I am really sure I am busy for the next few months. My selective memory may make me forget this too.

The Dissolution Agreement

Truly, all one needs to do to dissolve an LLC is fill out a form with the state of your choice--or choices in my case--pay the extortion money they charge and mail the darn thing in. It really is that simple. And, as managing partner, I have the luxury of doing such things.

Though that may be simple on the surface, there really is more to this. For one thing, and this is pretty major, there are assets to split. For another, to dissolve an LLC (and fill out the above forms) without consent of the partners causes hurt feelings and ugly lawsuits, both of which I prefer to avoid.

So, with a pat on the back from Diamond Jim, I sat down last week and wrote out a Dissolution Agreement. The agreement discussed in length who got which homes. It discussed who paid what outstanding bills. It talked about what I as (now former) managing partner was responsible to do from this point forward. The agreement was two pages long. However, there was an enormous Appendix A I also created, which had all sorts of numbers on it that were relevant to Diamond Jim, the IRS and others who may wish to see it. When I sent the Dissolution Agreement to the Arizona Attorney (you know, she simply must get a nick-name), she called me and said, "I see you write contracts for a living." High praise! She only added one clause--one I purposely omitted and hoped not to have to include.

The first part of the agreement was simple. We divided up the homes according to who held the mortgage. In all fairness, Marty and I had the better homes. We had the homes with more equity. We had the homes in better shape. It wasn't planned that Marty and I would take out loans on the better homes, it just worked out that way. That said, Mr. Partner has the better tenants. All of his tenants but one have been there homes more than six years. The one tenant who is relatively new, isn't going anywhere any time soon. Those folks have been there for about two years. The way it stands now, we owe Mr. Partner money for our equity. We had spelled this out. He acknowledged, but that didn't stop the questions about why some homes had positive equity positions and some had negative ones.

When it came to the money end of the agreement, Mr. Partner was most interested. When I made a list of outstanding bills, I simply looked at which bill went with which home. For example, Mr. Partner is now the proud owner of the home in Leeds. He can pay any bill associated with that home. Marty and I are now the not-so-proud owners of the home in Moody. Anything related to that home is on us. Additionally, Marty and I offered to pay any legal fees associated with closing this down. Our end of the accounts payable was higher. However, this is where Mr. Partner began to get confused and slightly belligerent.

First Mr. Partner was under some insane impression I was ordering/insisting/demanding he write a check to cover all of the bills. I don't know why he thought this. I sent him several e-mails all saying things along the lines of, "As we agreed when we met last Sunday and last Thursday, the bills in black will be yours, and the ones in red will be the Sunshine's." In fact, I sat down with him twice and went over the six items he was expected to pay. Some time last week he even called me, suggesting I added extra bills to his list while he was sleeping.

"Who is Bliz Bookkeeping?" He asked, as if I covertly snuck this mysterious invoice into the mix.

"That would be our bookkeeper. The same one we have had for more than ten years and the same one you had lunch with last Friday," I replied.

"Ok then, carry on." Click.

Though this may seem to satisfy the common mortal's curiosity, this particular question of why we were asking him to pay all the bills came up several times.

Additionally, Mr. Partner decided he could not comprehend the bill payer system to his new bank account. Though I had set up the bills for him, he wanted to log on and do it himself. And, it had to be done right then and there. First he didn't have the password. So, I resent him the e-mail where I covered this. Then he didn't like something else. And finally, he didn't have the invoices to pay said bills. When I reminded him I handed him the insurance for Mrs. Sherwood's home at the lunch with him and Bliz, he argued I never did such thing. Finally, to give Mr. Partner the win, I offered to call our insurance agent have them re-send the policy. It was only then did he miraculously pull the invoice out of the dark, damp place I assume he had crammed it in earlier.

By Monday afternoon, I was done. I was finished with the insane questions. I was tired of the outright implications that we were somehow trying to pull the wool over his eyes. I was complete. I expected he would review the Agreement and get it back to me in the morning. Meanwhile, I had fantasies about this being out of my life by July 1. I saw stars aligning. I saw freedom. I could see the finish line. All I needed were two signatures.

Tuesday Mr. Partner contacted me about 30 times with banking questions. With invoice questions. With rental questions. Most were legitimate, however most were also repeats from Monday. At one point he actually told me the bill payer system was too complicated. However, he uses this same system to pay his home bills. I believe the bruise on my forehead is from where my palm of my right hand slammed into it a few too many times that day.

Then--and this was what put me over the edge--at one point, he wanted me to make up a spreadsheet for him, which included odd items, such as the mortgage balances and rental amounts. Though that may sound perfectly reasonable, all of this information is provided for him on a different spreadsheet he has. And, if that wasn't enough it was also in the big Appendix A that was attached to the Dissolution Agreement. But no, this new spreadsheet needed to be formatted with a certain font and using particular colors to show the migration patterns of the spotted waxwing. I obliged and only stuck in his properties. After all, he wasn't getting mine, so why would it matter. And frankly, I thought that's all he wanted.

Nope, that wasn't good enough. he wanted the homes Marty and I were taking too. Instead of arguing the needlessness of this futile exercise (they wouldn't be his in two days and this information was everywhere else), I just added the info. Then, when I thought all of this was resolved, he threw another curve ball. The home that went to foreclosure last year and WE NO LONGER OWN, well he wanted that loan information and equity value too.

At this point, I was grumbling curses that would make a drunken sailor blush. I started to remind him this is no longer our property so this was pointless, but stopped. You know what? If putting a bunch of gobbledygook on an Excel spreadsheet would get him to sign the damn Agreement, I could do three minutes of work. By the way, there are no loans for this company any more, but don't tell Mr. Partner. I provided, "loan numbers."

Wednesday morning, crazed with stress over the fact he had such a significant case of selective amnesia from the past several days, I took action. I filled out the Arizona Secretary of State's form, got a cashier's check and mailed it in. It was done. Woot. However, though the LLC was now legally dissolved, Mr. Partner still had not given me back a signed Dissolution Agreement. So, legal or not, it wasn't really finished.

By Wednesday night, I had sent him an e-mail, reminding him not to pay any of his mortgages until we severed. Because that might look "funny" to the IRS. And all of this passive-aggressive crap over the past few days was reinforcing why I so much wanted to be done with this LLC.

I finally did get the signed Dissolution Agreement. It is now in my safe. I also sent a copy (signed by all parties) back to Mr. and Mrs. Partner and the Arizona Attorney. Though I would like to tell you this is over, it isn't. There is still the transition plan.

Done

So, today is July 1. 2016 to be exact. And, that happens to mean that our LLC with Mr. Partner is now dissolved. However, it wasn't as simple as the sentence above happens to make it sound.

To summarize... never mind. The last twenty-three days cannot be summarized.

A lot of difficult decisions went into what Marty and I have done. It started easily enough with a visit to an attorney. I had set up the appointment some time in May, and purposely set it for when Marty would be on vacation--which happened to be the first week of June. Our goal at the time was to buy an hour of advice on the direction of our accidental business.

The advice we got was a lot more complicated. It was inevitable and of no shock to anyone. The Accidental Business must shut down. As Mr. Partner had known we were going to see the attorney, he waited in delusional anticipation that Marty and I would come to our senses and agree to go a different direction. But alas. We aren't. And frankly, Mr. Partner wasn't surprised. And if truth be told, in the long run it is best for the Partners and the Sunshines.

All of the early ins and outs came out via lunch a few Sunday's ago. Sadly, Marty was feeling under the weather and asked to beg off. But oh  no! There was no way I was going in alone. I already gave birth. I have done my hard job. So, he came and drooled in the corner sat quietly while I covered everything and gave Mr. and Mrs. Partner the gist of our situation.

Since then, I met with Diamond Jim several times: and may I say, what an incredible friend to stop everything he was doing to help me. He spent a good deal of a few weekends (while I dealt with the sickness Marty gave me, though he didn't come with me to meet Diamond Jim) answering questions, advising me and helping me draft documents that contained a lot of numbers.

Mr. and Mrs. Partner also met me at the attorney's office some time in there to ask any and all questions, which they did. The answers didn't change, but at least it gave all of us a better understanding of the situation.

For the Prexit, I was using a notebook I bought in Louisiana earlier this month. It was full of checklists, notes and to-dos. Most of them were completed prior to the Dissolution Agreement. A few that weren't were added to the Dissolution Agreement.  And mind you, the Dissolution Agreement doesn't end everything. There is also a Transition Plan, which is in place. Sadly the Transition Plan also requires my cooperation.

At first, we wanted to make this happen by the end of July. But as I started rolling, I managed to get Legal Owl to write up new deeds. I had little free time for this, but as any busy person will tell you, the most productive people are the ones with the least time. Getting this done was actually so important to me that I did not watch baseball for an entire week, as I still had my other "real" job to do while taking on this project.

Somewhere last week, I realized everything was in place already to sever the ties. All that needed to be done was write the contract. In that case, why wait a month until the end of July? All we were doing was putting off the inevitable. So, with that said, we changed our date to June 30.

As I write this, I am thinking back to what a week this has been. The above makes this sound like it was a walk in the park with a bunch of meetings. As Bliz can attest, it wasn't. But that is for the next blog.