If A Tree Falls In Moody Who Hears About It?

I haven't given the home in Moody the appropriate attention it deserves here on the ol' blog of late. After years of writing about Mr. Smith (who still lives directly across the street) and Ms. Kathy whose sister lives directly next door (I don't know if Ms. Kathy lives with her or just visits her on a daily basis), I have kind of wanted to put this house into the recesses of my mind and just go on with my life.

But I want a lot of things that I want aren't happening these days.

The house in Moody is a three bedroom, one bath, 1,100 square foot home. The yard is about a half acre, probably bigger. Though this house is tiny with one bathroom, I have never had trouble renting this place out. The schools, I hear, in Moody are fantastic and people line up to live in this redneck dump charming village.*

To give you an idea of how charming Moody is, you have to drive past the--and I am not making this up--tombstone rental store on the way to the town center. The neighborhood where this home is located is behind the police department. The same police station that was flattened after a series of tornadoes went through a few years ago. However, this car is still in the parking lot.

Anyway, the house in Moody has been the source of a lot of consternation lately. First, a tree fell. A very tall tree. I am told it was in the back yard, but for the life of me, I cannot remember a tree in the back yard of this house. Fortunately, the only damage done by the tree was to the tree itself and to the 3 foot high chain link fence that (of course) separated my yard and the yard of Ms. Kathy's sister's house.

I found out about this because Flunky e-mailed me hours after this incident asking what he was supposed to do. His e-mail once again demonstrated that the years of charm school his mother invested into him were a complete waste. In all fairness, he did not know the fence in question was the one between my home and Ms. Kathy's sister, but that is still no reason to be obnoxious.

According to Flunky, the neighbor (who knows darn well who I am) was all up in arms about this. She was threatening all sorts of legal things if the "owner didn't fix it right away". This of course was a huge bluff because 1) I am not quite sure how much fixing is needed. It seems like cutting the wood, straightening out the fence and getting on with our lives would suffice, and 2) I doubt she can find a lawyer who will take on the great "a tree fell on my fence and I am devastated" case or afford the retainer for the one attorney in the greater Birmingham metropolitan area who would agree to this. But, that's just me.


*Now to be fair, Leeds is just across I-20 from Moody (think of it like a sister city) and there are many adjectives I would use to describe Leeds, and none of them would be "charming village."

Victory-ish

Well, I passed. I would like to tell you with flying colors or some sort of other platitude, but I can't for two reasons:

1. I don't know my score. The testing center doesn't provide that.

2. The test was as much of a nightmare as last Tuesday's test, except the questions were different and the situations were trickier.

The test was truly, either one knew what they were doing, or they didn't. I guess I know what I am doing. ("You are holding an open house for a listing through your brokerage for another salesperson and a potential buyer comes in and asks you for details about the home, neighborhood and pricing. Your agency is now: an ostensible agent to the seller only, an implied agent to the buyer, a dual agent, or you are not providing any agency." By the way, the answer is dual agent.).

Now that the major component of getting my broker's license is out of the way, I have other tasks to accomplish. First, I don't have my broker's license. I still have to take three more classes--and I cannot stress how little desire I have to sit in a classroom right now. I also have to wait for my criminal clearance card to the State of Arizona to be processed and returned to me. Given I sent my fingerprints in two weeks ago and as of yesterday the check wasn't cashed, I am guessing I have time. Once the criminal clearance comes back, I then submit a bunch of paperwork to the Arizona Department of Real Estate and write them a big fat check.

In the meantime, I can work on our under-capitalized Alabama issues, get around to writing of the joys I am dealing with over in that neck of the woods (and there weird stories) and possibly--but I am not promising anything--do a load of laundry.

Testing Update

First, Thank you for your comment Jeanne.

I passed the school test. It was 400 questions. The first 200 (TWO HUNDRED!) were like this:

"You purchased an improved quarter of a quarter section 15 years ago with a commercial structure with a current assessed value of $374,000 per $100 at $2.43 mil and have been renting it out for five years with $45000 in monthly expenses. What would you need to sell the building for to receive a 25% profit, after depreciation? What are the current taxes? What is the gross rent multiplier? What is the current cap rate, given no vacancies or credit? What is your acreage and how big is the structure given 37% for setbacks and easements? And how much wood, did the woodchuck chuck when its train left the station heading North at 4 p.m. New Zealand time?

It took me three and a half hours (of the five granted to me) to finish those questions.

The other test was two hundred law questions, which seemed like trivia questions by the time I got around to answering them.

I passed those tests, by the way.

Today I take the state test. It is also four hundred questions. These tests are broken into "Arizona-specific" and "national-specific" questions. I am told today's tests are "entirely different." I noticed nobody said "easier." All I am hoping at this point is there are no more train questions.

It Wasn't Meant To Be

Luigi replied to my e-mail.

The first response was something completely unrelated to the e-mail I forwarded, showing that his company lost out on instant money. Seriously: it was theirs to loose.

Figuring he just skimmed the exchange between Amy and I, I wrote him back, acknowledging his comment and then directed him to the part where I asked for the tenant to be offered the right to buy the home (which she has been asking to purchase for more than a year).

His response: "Oh, ok."

Meanwhile, I contacted Kirby. We both got a laugh out of this and he said he would have "killed" one of his agents who walked away from an instant commission. It looks like the listing will be his.

If I Had Done This Where I Work, I Would Have Been Fired

I would like to tell you I make this stuff up. But, I can't.

So, Mrs. Martin's lease is up at the end of March. I am not renewing it for a myriad of reasons, including the mortgage is owned by the same bank that is foreclosing on another property. They have threatened to attach a lien to one of our homes for the foreclosure. They can only do that if the mortgage is with them.

We bought at the wrong time. We are selling at a time undesirable for us. The home has a two and a half year old roof and a 6 month old HVAC system. The tenant is clean. I would like to tell you she pays on time but, no. I would have let her stay, despite being late, because she didn't want to move and I didn't want to deal with an empty house. But even if she did leave, the house rents easily and I make a profit.

Anyway, because I have to sell the house, it certainly would be ideal to sell it to the tenant. At least that's my line of thinking. And, it would save me some extra fees because I would only have to pay the property management company for their portion (3%). My contract with the property management company is set up so they can sell the house to the tenant if I so desire. And, until about 10 a.m. today, I desired.

I sent an e-mail to Ms. Amy. She works at the property management company. I like her well enough and find her to be responsive when I call. I am told I have an official contact at the office, but that person--who is in charge of managing a gazillion minus two homes--has never once contacted me. So, currently Ms. Amy is my only contact and for the past few weeks she is my current source of stress. But, that is for another, completely unrelated blog.

Back to this nonsense. So, I wrote an e-mail to Ms. Amy and asked her to forward it to the tenant. I offered the home to the tenant for sale at a complete fire-sale price, even if I add in what I would owe the property management company.  I said I would like the sale to be completed by April 15 and we can part friends. For this to happen she would need to provide a prequalification letter no later than Feb. 29, 2016 and at that time Legal Owl or a representative from the property management company would write up the agreement. I also put in the e-mail if she wanted representation, I would not pay for it. But, if she wasn't interested in buying, then she needed to get her stuff out by the end of next month.

After I sent this e-mail I heard nothing back. I e-mailed Ms. Amy, who gave me some weird song and dance about how someone else is handling this particular tenant. But didn't answer my question: was my offer delivered to the tenant? I sent a second e-mail to Ms. Amy. This time she wrote me back. She said as a licensed real estate agent I should know better than to "work around" the property management company I am contracted with. So, no. She did not offer it for sale.

Let's get this straight: I have the tenant's email address and phone number. Heck, I even have the tenant's physical address. If I were going to "work around" the property management company, I WOULDN'T HAVE ASKED THE PROPERTY MANAGEMENT COMPANY TO OFFER THE HOME FOR SALE TO THE TENANT ON MY BEHALF.

Instead of pointing out the logic to Ms. Amy, bless her heart, I just told her I would be taking the home out of management April 1st or whenever the tenant moved out. Which ever came first. I would have a representative pick up the keys. And then I turned around and sent my conversation with Ms. Amy to Luigi--so he can see what his employees are doing. All I wrote was, "For the record, I gave your company first rights to sell this house."

A Random Posting from a Very Tired Student

So, I have spent the weekend studying for my broker's test. And at this point, I am confident I can pass the owner financing and property management section of the test (which happen to make up the two major components of we somewhat unsuccessfully did in Birmingham). My knowledge of everything else on the test is still questionable, though Marty Sunshine assures me I will be fine.

Studying has reminded me of a lot of Accidental Business aspects I have chosen to bury. Like how Jack and Late Attorney Jon approached us in 2007 about starting a Real Investment Trust and offered to bring in investors, using my business model and other people's money. They liked what I had to offer. They knew people who also liked what they heard about my accidental business. In fact, they had already been pitching the idea on our behalf long before they came to me.

Late Attorney Jon also got me in front of an SEC attorney in early 2008 so I could sell my idea and start the ball rolling. The attorneys bought off and were willing to work with us. All they needed in January of 2008 was commitment from us that we were ready to go forward. Then, the Birmingham economy crashed. That crash actually happened about four months before the rest of the country. But the distraction of our business model crashing, and the ensuing blog fodder from that experience meant we never went forward.

Oddly enough, though our business model was considered (by some) as "genius" at the time. It would now be considered felonious, because of the implementation of the Dodd-Frank Act in 2009. Everything has a purpose. And a season.

Polly and I were talking the other day and I said the biggest mistake I feel we made in our accidental business was not having a Plan B. Yes, we had an exit strategy. We just didn't have a secondary exit strategy. That's what we really needed. If nothing else, if I ever do anything along these lines again (IF) I will be wiser. And I will have a back up plan, a secondary back up plan and a tertiary back up plan.

Tuesday I take the school portion of my broker's test. It is five hours. It is broken down into two, 200 question tests that encompasses real estate law and real estate financing (not to be confused with the "owner financing" section I know with my eyes closed). Provided I pass, I will then, as some undisclosed date in time, take the state test, which is also comprised of two 200 question tests: a national portion and an Arizona specific portion.

What am I going to do with my new-found broker's license (provided I get that far)? I have no earthly clue. More or less, at this point I am just crossing it off my bucket list. I will then go on to my least-favorite activity this time of year: taxes. After taxes are done, maybe I will clean the house and move on with my life. But right now, that seems very far away.

My Short Fuse

Someone broke into my vacant home Sunday and stole the fuses. yep. The fuses. And--because nothing is ever simple or inexpensive--these are special fuses that can only be summoned by a Tibetan shaman who needs to sacrifice a black Nubian goat on a stone altar in the back yard of my home on the third full moon of the fourth month that ends with a G.

So yea, I'm sending out an electrician to replace some damn fuses. The best price I got was from a guy named Buster for about $150. For fuses. 

I am much more comfortable with Buster than I was with the other completely rational option I was considering: getting on an airplane, flying over there, renting a car, running into to Lowes, buying the fuses, screwing them into the fuse box and flying back--which was sounding like a completely reasonable course of action around 1 p.m. today. But that was before I found my new pal, Buster. 

And, lest you think $150 is ridiculous price to replace these stupid things (who, I ask you, steals fuses??), I found much higher prices. Including from Flunky, who's price was somewhere close to Rwanda's GNP. Is there any wonder I never use my property management company to fix the most basic of items? 

But the most irritating part of this entire ordeal isn't necessarily that I have to buy fuses. Instead, what annoys me the most is that I had to spend way too much time on finding the "best price" for fuse installation. Because there should never be a "best price" for this kind of nonsense. 

An Open Letter To The Bank Employees

Dear People Who Are Employed By the Bank,

It appears you are a bit upset with us. That is understandable. We have an obligation to pay and we aren't doing it. That has happened to me, and it frustrates me beyond belief too. Though I am the first to admit this isn't our finest hour, I am astonished that you--bank employees--are taking this way too personally. After all, if it wasn't for your policies, we wouldn't be in this mess.

Granted, we only have one other foreclosure to compare this experience to. It wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but for the most part, everyone Marty and I willingly spoke with during that experience was professional and kept it business-like. Granted, the folks from the call center in India who called me three times a day weren't as professional, but I give them a pass for two reasons: 1) I was usually a bitch if they interrupted something I was doing or when they got to the part of the phone call where they insisted they wanted me to state my social security number and 2) they aren't asset managers, but instead are sitting in some crowded room somewhere trying to collect on a debt.

Now then, you, People at the Bank, are a bit different. You have always treated this transaction as if it were an assault on your handicapped child. It is almost like Marty and I have personally offended you by defaulting on this loan. I have been asked by you folks, "Why would you do this when you have money?" Check my bank account. I don't have the money.

Oh wait! You did check my bank accounts. Several times, may I add. As you may remember, you asked for my bank accounts records many times after you called this loan due in September of 2014. At the time, we asked you to reconsider and cheerfully provided you with every piece of documentation you asked for in a timely manner. We did this repeatedly. Because you asked repeatedly. And what did you do? You asked for more.

Then you asked for obscure items, like access to my daughter's bank account information. At that point, we said no. Other people than us have bank accounts. You aren't asking for their accounts. And by the way, my daughter doesn't have a stellar bank balance either. You would have been disappointed. By the way, the reason our bank balances aren't anything to write home about is that we truly spent everything we could keeping this business afloat.

Essentially, the way we see it is simply: we wouldn't be in this situation had you not called the loan due for no reason. And, more importantly if you had worked with us when we were willing to work with you this would never had happened. So, cooperation a year ago--when I had a paying tenant in place--would have been a true win-win.

But when this started, that wasn't the only example of your unprofessionalism. Some "committee" you have, rejected five full-price offers in a short sale. You may also remember we asked for a deed in lieu of foreclosure, making sure we could speed the process up, and one of you--bank employees--even wrote me back and said, "to be honest, I don't know how to do that."

When we finally got a letter from your company's attorney, we called that attorney and pled our case: the bank, your client, called the loan due, if they hadn't, nothing would have changed and we would have been paying on time. Since then our long-term tenant moved out and we saw no reason to put money into the home to make it rent-ready, when this time last year, we were being repeatedly told the likelihood of modification was minimal.

We also explained to the attorney, that some committee at the bank agreed to a short sale. Then reneged. They then refused to do a deed in lieu because they "don't know how." And now here we are. Your attorney was baffled when she heard this. She asked if we were "sure" we understood correctly. Yes we were sure. And she was even more baffled when she found out we weren't making it up.

And then, there was silence. Every month or so, Marty would call and ask what was going on with the foreclosure. We would be told "we will call you soon." And then there was no call. Again. Finally after we informed you, bank employees, that we did not have the money to pay the property taxes, you became motivated.

After all of that nonsense, there has been a significant amount of silence from you folks. Having nothing better to do, and realizing there might be a chance of vandalism, squatters and who-knows-what-else going on Marty called you this week. And when you spoke to Marty, for whatever reason, you bank employees, were angry--as if we did this to you, not your organization. You snarkly threatened Marty with wage garnishment. You threatened to tack a lien on to another one of our properties. You said a lot of things, I double-dog-dare you to put in writing so that I may show my attorney. You even told us if we just, "gave you the keys" you could "save us some money." Are you kidding? Let's face it, I don't think there is any "saving us some money" at this point. Besides, we have been offering to give you keys for the past 10 months.

What would be ideal is you just hurry up the foreclosure process. Nail our credit and send us ugly letters. I know this isn't over. I am weirdly at peace about this. But for some reason, Bank Employees, your underwear is in bunches over our default. Let it go. We are.

Tenant Satisfaction Survey

So, one of the owners of the property management company I work for was having a tough day.

Tenant Satisfaction Survey

1. Is the rent too damn high? Y/N
2. Should the Management Company/Owner not expect the full rent on the 1st? Y/N
3. Do you find the ‘5-day notices to pay’ annoying? Y/N
4. Are you tired of paying management fees?      Y/N                                        
5. Should the owner be the one paying these fees? Y/N
6. Are you tired of being hounded by the HOA/City? Y/N
7. Should the Owner pay the fines due/assessments? Y/N
8. Is your ledger too hard to understand? Y/N
9. Should we be more apologetic to you when you are unable to schedule with a vendor? Y/N
10. Are we not meeting your every need? Y/N
11. Should the Accounting Department ‘cease and desist’ from demanding rent payments? Y/N

We take your satisfaction very seriously. Please feel free to add any comments below. Then, fold the paper into the shape of your favorite airplane and aim for the closest trash bin.

Sincerely,

Us

Just a "Misunderstanding"

Note: After further research, it turns out Gatling pled guilty after all. 

Former NBA player Chris Gatling accused of squatting

By Matt Moore | NBA writer

May 2, 2013 9:56 am ET

Former NBA player Chris Gatling has been accused by police of squatting in a Paradise Valley, Ariz., house and then trying to rent out the home that he was squatting in. From the Arizona Republic:

Chris Gatling is accused of breaking into a key box and living in the home from July 2010 to August 2011. A police report says the homeowners lived in California but had left the power on.

A local TV station reports that he later listed the four-bedroom house for rent for $800 and called it an “Ex-NBA” home online.

Court records say that Gatling got a down payment from one potential renter but that another got suspicious and contacted police.

Gatling's attorney, Michael Alarid, said the case is a “misunderstanding.”

Gatling made close to $30 million in his career, appearing with 13 teams over an 11-year period. He also once congratulated Shawn Kemp for dunking on him. Gatling last played in the NBA in 2001-02.

The accusations come less than a year after a documentary was released profiling the number and ways that professional athletes go bankrupt.

Where I Have Been

So, two years ago I put on the O'le Bucket List "getting my broker's license." And life got in the way. This past summer, despite getting debilitating sick, I interviewed at a few different brokerages just to find out the grass really wasn't much greener.

But the one major aspect I took with me from me shopping around for a different company, was simply: If I want to leave my brokerage I need to be my own boss. And, because I still own the name and rights to my now-defunct accidental business, it wouldn't be hard to start something up again. In fact, I checked with the Secretary of State's office. Yep, the name is mine for the taking, if I so desire.

Right now, I don't desire. But I may reserve "my name" again, just in case.

A few weeks ago, I decided to just bite the bullet and enter broker school. Getting one's broker's license is like a PhD in Real Estate. It is useful for a myriad of reasons, inducing being one's own boss--but you probably gathered that.

Broker School--which is nothing at all like being a broker--is like getting a PhD in Astrophysics crammed into three weeks. Well, it was three weeks, but after a lively round of food poisoning last week, I am now stretching it into four weeks. I go to school 10 hours a day. I am currently vitamin D deficient because I am not seeing daylight much, as I have been studying most every waking moment.

I finish classes now (thanks to a questionable chicken quesadilla) on Feb. 11. I take the school test shortly thereafter. If and when I pass the school test, I then have a bunch more hoops to jump through, including but not limited to, taking a state and federal test. I also have to turn in a criminal clearance card and turn in the broker recommendation letter to the Department of Real Estate. And oh yes, for the privilege of this process there are a lot of agencies who get a bunch of money from me.

Anyway, while all this is going on, I am still managing Alabama. Or, more like coaching Marty Sunshine to manage a few things. The rest of those action items are just on hold. But, more on that later. The true reason for this post is that I wanted to explain my absence to you three readers. And, I wanted to use my tried and true stress reliever--writing--before setting off to study all sorts of stuff that I swear has nothing to do with selling real estate.

My Christmas Miracle

Well now, it appears one can teach an old Hat new tricks. Last Christmas Eve, Flunky, the maintenance guy for the property management company I employ, took the liberty to send me dozens of pictures of my destroyed now-former home in Pinson. The pictures told a story that caused a small stroke. One picture I remember too clearly was the garage door, hanging by I-don't-know-what and ultimately defying gravity. Mr. Hat suggested we "address that immediately before someone gets hurt."

But that isn't where I was mentally stuck that particular day. The pictures also told me something bigger and far worse than the thousands of dollars in damage I was staring at. And unfortunately, when pressed, he admitted I had a serious right to be upset. You see, Mr. Hat, in the middle of an eviction, WENT ON THE PROPERTY, which made the eviction process take longer.

Now fast forward 365 days. This Christmas Eve, Mr. Hat sent me a sweet e-mail. He acknowledged that today is the beginning of a holiday time many of us celebrate. He wished me well. He said he was sorry to bother me today. He then asked if my vacant home was rent-ready. I am pleased to say Mr. Hat ended it with a simple, yet polite, closing which suggests to the world he was raised right. I was floored at his professionalism. And I guarantee his mother would have been proud.

August 2009

I just sent Mr. Partner an update on the o'le LLC. I needed to address the maddening situation with Ms. Angie (for another blog. And certainly not fodder for a Merry Christmas). Anyhoo, I couldn't remember how long she had been living there. Instead of rummaging through the hard drive for a copy of her lease, I just did what comes naturally when I need to look up something related to my accidental business: I went back to my blog archives.

She Must Have Thought I Stuttered

So, as you three readers may remember, I went on an absolute tear last month with the property management company. You see, they were letting the three tenants in the homes Marty Sunshine and I own without a partner just slide and pay whatever they felt like paying each month. Lease agreement be damned!

I suspect if one of these tenants had come in last month with a dead pigeon and a pot of rotted carnations, that would have been exchanged for one month of free rent. And believe me, I may have said something along those lines to the property management company, because as far as I was concerned, they hadn't been working for me.

As I was writing this post yesterday, I was happy in the illusion that everything is straightened out. However, no sooner had I written the above paragraph Ms. Amy called. It appears Ms. Martin didn't seem to fully understand that if she didn't follow through with her commitment to pay the remaining December balance by December 18th and subsequently "break her back" (her words) to make sure rent would be paid on time thereafter, I meant business. So, when Ms. Amy sweetly broke the news, I replied with a few unholiday-like sentiments. And, I told her to affix a notice on her door telling her to move out.

The Funk Has Lifted

"If you go to the grocery store and count out 10 people, eight of them will have bruised credit." I said last week to some really nice folks, who didn't think any landlord would consider renting to them. And then I finished with the same line I have been saying--and meaning--for the past 13+ years, "Your credit score is just a number. You are not your credit score any more than you are your street address."

A credit "score" is just a number. It is a benchmark of where you are in your life right now. It goes up and goes down. But it doesn't look you in the mirror and say, "Hey, today you are a 583!" In fact, it is a complete pain in the butt to try to find your credit score if you really want to.

I have never judged folks based on their credit score. Life happens. I have people in my life with amazing credit scores. I have people in my life with crummy credit scores. And I have people in my life with no credit scores. In fact, for the most part, I probably can't tell you who is who. And I really don't care.

That said, I have been identifying myself by my crummy credit for the past six months. I called myself a failure. I've shamed myself. I beat myself up over our choices--logical choices. Choices I still stand by. Choices that in hindsight were inevitable. And frankly, if I had my way, they would have happened sooner. I started lobbying Marty and Mr. Partner years ago to thin the heard. (Actually, I lobbied them heavily in 2006 not to buy any more homes... and lost.)

But here we are. I have been in a profound funk for most of the year over this. I have processed my funk with you three readers. Sometimes sitting across from you. Sometimes in this blog. Thank you all for listening and reading along. And thank you for reaching out when you thought I needed you. Your calls, e-mails, pep-talks, hugs and friendship mean more than you know.

Two events happened on Monday. The first was Buckaroo came up to me in a quiet moment and asked if we were moving into an apartment. It took me by surprise. I hadn't realized how much he had processed our situation and what kinds of conclusions his limited life experience had brought him to. The other was dinner with a friend who reminded me how I have never judged others of their situation and how harshly I have judged mine.

Our situation is what it is. Times are lean, but not impossible. Buckaroo and Polly still have a roof over their head. We have our health. We have each other. We have friends and family who love us and support us. They loved us and supported us when our credit score was higher too. We have friends and family who love us and don't support us. They loved us and didn't support us when our credit score was higher. In fact, when I got to thinking about it on my drive home after dinner I realized, other than unburdening ourselves with the inevitable, nothing has really changed because it is just a number.

Top Tenant Tips for Not Annoying your Landlord

Last week I said I would write this. I promise to stop at five six.

1. Pay on time and pay what you are contractually obligated to pay. When you filled out the application I asked for pay stubs to make sure you can afford the house. You also signed a contract. Ms. Kathy, who used to live in my home in Moody (and now, lives next door to my home in Moody, but that's for another blog) used to tell me--and she meant this as a compliment--"I am so glad I can deal with you and not a company. You understand." What I understood was she was probably spending her rent money on blow, trinkets or (in one case) bail money for her brother.

2. Keep tabs on your family members: I had a tenant in Fultondale who had at least twelve siblings. One died each month and she needed her rent money for their funeral--because funerals just happen to cost $1000 each. Perhaps she was getting a volume discount? We owners are happy to extend a courtesy once in a while when a tenant is short funds for true emergencies (life happens). We aren't willing to do it all the time and we aren't running a homeless shelter.

3. Don't make the neighbors call me: I once had some random person in Alabama hunt me down through the Arizona Department of Real Estate (a former tenant told her what I did for a living) to tattle on her current neighbors, my tenants. I had another neighbor once call me to tell me my tenant's teenage boys were jumping off the roof of my home. Behave like everyone is watching and assume they will call me. I just counted. I have contacts for neighbors for five of my homes--that is not including Moody, where I used to rent to two of the neighbors. If you act up, the neighbors will gladly tell me.

4. Don't loose your broom: When I rent to folks who used to live in an apartment, I generally advise them to think of a few extra costs they will have when they move in to a home: a broom, lawn mower, etc. Dear tenants: now that you own the broom and lawn mower, use it. Often. If you are grown up enough to rent a home, keep it tidy on the inside and out.

5. Sweat the small things: If a door handle is loose, tighten it up. It is probably loose because you pulled too hard. If a towel bar is wobbly, tighten it up and tell your kids to stop hanging on it. Fix the minor stuff that you probably caused anyway and leave the broken hot water heater to me.

When I wrote this, I thought five would sum it up. But I then realized I forgot the one way tenants annoy me the absolute very most. 

6. Just don't do this: If you are going to be late on rent. Don't tell me the day rent is due. If something is broken--and you know about it ahead of time (and I know you do)--don't wait until 5 p.m. Mountain Standard Time on a Friday before a long weekend to tell me. Nothing throws goodwill out the window faster than this game. And I have a good memory (ask Bliz) and know how to hold a grudge. You want me to respond right away if you have a problem. Do me the same courtesy.

How to be a Good Property Manager*

*from a landlord's perspective. 

There is a reason for this series.

Know who you work for and never forget it: You work for the owner. That's it. You don't work for the tenant or the plumber. Your fiduciary responsibility is only to your owner. Jot it down. There will be a quiz later.

Answer your phone: By far, Kirby has been the best of the property managers I have gone through in Birmingham. However, Kirby had to be the absolute worst at answering his phone. I understand property management companies manage hundreds of homes. Which means they have hundreds of owners, tenants and vendors. So there is never a lull in the action. But still! I find it strange when I am researching property management companies in Arizona, how many reviews start with "company never answers their phone" or "my call always go to voice mail." My company has a simple policy for its sales agents: come in and help once in a while and you will get leads. So, two hours once a week picking up a ringing telephone can be worth multiple commissions.

Return Phone Calls and E-mails: In all fairness, we all have people in our lives whose phone calls and e-mails we shove to the bottom of the food chain. Those people earned it. But most don't. Call/text/e-mail back those who call you--even if it is to say "Hey, got your message, tied up right now because a heard of dead water buffalo just died in my lobby. I will get back to you soon."

Give us a Head's Up: Tenant pay late? Their lease is up? Let us know. Most property management software applications have an automatic e-mail notification built in for such occasions (including Luigi's company--because I know what software he uses). It drives me insane to find out when I get my owner payout every month that tenants couldn't be bothered to pay the rent. If I had to pick one item that drives me buggy about the company I use in Alabama, it is this.

Half a Loaf of Bread is Not Better than a Full Loaf of Bread: Do not take a partial payment from a tenant. That means the tenant stays for the entire month on reduced rent. When offered a partial payment, hand it back to the tenant and tell them to try again.

Recognize that Perpetually Late Tenant Whose Grandmother Died. Again: Seriously, know the excuses and call the deadbeat out on them.

Don't Threaten, Do It: Evict when necessary. End of story.

Fix It for a Reasonable Price: Reasonable Price: $200-ish for a garage door opener. Not reasonable price: $2,000. I realize you up-charge. Me not dealing with the moment-by-moment drama of what the plumber is doing is worth it to me. But I am not stupid.

Be Professional: And hence, the reason for this series--because this happened to me this week. Though I complain about them, I swear this company in Alabama is better than any other I currently have available to me. I like most of the people in the company. I like Luigi, Jay, April and Willy. I am even lukewarm on Flunky right now. But dear Heavens! Don't send me a friend request Facebook. I may be fond of you, but we aren't friends. We are in a business relationship. I don't want to know if you need prayers for your sick guinea pig, what your political affiliation is or if you are (Heaven forbid) a Dodger's fan, And more to the point, if I am telling you I am out of funds and you see a picture of me on a tropical island, you may think I am fibbing. But maybe I am not. Maybe I have an uncle-in-law who lets me stay there for the price of painting his shed. You don't know. And I don't want you to know.

How to be a Good Landlord*

*in the eyes of a property management company. 

Let's make a few assumptions here. The first being everyone is getting along. The second being that the property management company is competent. 

Be Fussy: If you pick a bad tenants, you get drama. Which means the property management company gets drama. Six months down the line, choosing a bad tenant will come back to haunt you. By then you have forgotten it was your choice to have this bozo in your home and everyone's level of drama will be at an all-time high. So, pick well the first time. 

Check the calendar: Don't, for the love of all that is right and just, call the first Monday of the month. Nobody--from the broker all the way down to the commissioned salesperson who is helping out for a few hours answering the phones--has time to deal with you. We are busy dealing with your tenants. There seems to be a correlation between tenants paying the rent and tenants asking for repairs. Either that, or there is some vast conspiracy for all items in a rental home to break the weekend before the first Monday of the month. Either way, don't call. 

Write the check: Things break. They break in your own home too. Fix them. I am not saying install hardwood floors if a floor tile is cracked, but if you have a drippy faucet, fix it immediately. 

Pick your battles: If you need to fight, fight. But make sure you know what you are fighting for and that you are fighting with the right person. "I didn't get my owners' statement until the 17th of the month and you told me I would get it on the 16th," is just going to ensure your next phone call or e-mail isn't answered promptly. (Are you listening Canadian owners????)

Make sure you are communicating with the right person: The bookkeeper can't tell you how many showings you have received. The leasing agent can't tell you if the tenant paid the rent. You wouldn't call your electric company and demand that the CEO fix a discrepancy on your bill or the accounting department to turn off your power. The same goes here.

Don't assume you are being ignored: Most property management companies have about 10 folks working there. We have five, with a few as-needed folks waiting in the wings. Sometimes issues are triaged. We know you are interested in hearing if the weeds were pulled at your home. But perhaps someone else's home burned down last night and the weeds haven't been top of mind. And by the way, we can't tell you that another client's home burned down last night. It isn't any of your business anyway. 

Don't immediately jump to conclusions: Life happens. While you are thinking your 78 year old tenant who has been renting from you for the past eight years and has always paid early or on time is now a crook because rent is 15 days late, it might not be the case. Perhaps his wife is in the hospital, there's been a problem with his social security and his car broke down. What you may not know is that we, at the property management company, know this and the tenant is completely embarrassed by his situation. He isn't looking for a handout, but is in desperate need of a hand up. In the background, we have taken up a collection from our office, surrounding offices in our business complex and from other real estate agents we know for help for his rent, utilities and food. We may have asked some of our plumbers, electricians and roofers we work with for donations as well. We may have contacted a local garage and asked if they can fix this man's car. We also may have slipped a local Uuber driver or taxi company a few bucks for gas and asked if they could drive this man to and from the hospital every day while his car is being fixed. There's a lot we do behind the scenes. This is a people business. The human aspect is crucial. We understand this is a business for you. We also understand human dignity.  

We don't work for free: Our kids are addicted to groceries just like yours are. I understand when things break they need to be fixed. It isn't Luigi's job to pay my plumber or roofer. If you are "tired of paying for everything," sell the house. 

Be nice: Manners go along way. There isn't a mother alive who will admit they didn't raise their child right. So, I am willing to bet you have used the phrases, "please" and "thank you" on many occasions. Do it when you call us as well. That will get more done in your name than screaming from the rooftops what a$$h***s we are when you are talking to us. Telling everyone you talk to how incompetent that particular person is, will not win friends. And, it probably won't get your home showed either. Trust me. 

What A Property Manager Brokerage Does

It occurred to me that though I blog about managing properties, I have never actually defined what a property management company does. My accidental business was defined by the Arizona Secretary of State's office as a "property management" business. And you can see how well that turned out. I was able to get around a few major points--like not having a real estate license in Alabama--because I was only managing my own properties. But for the most part, someone at a property management company better have a real estate license.

I currently work for a property management and real estate brokerage. In fact I was the first "real estate" portion of the real estate brokerage. There are now four of us (and a few part-timers) who sell real estate and rent out homes for our company when the occasion arises. But mostly we sell and sit around processing the absurd stories we hear on a daily basis. There are enough true tales where I work that they don't need this blog.

Anyway, I am in the mood to type this morning and thought I would take a few chunks of cyber space to explain a few things.

Property Managers Work for the Landlords: Actually, we are called "owners" in the biz. That's what the contract says. That's who pays the company. There should never be confusion about this point. Ever.

Property Managers Find Tenants: Tis true. I am certain you are shocked by this. Landlords hire a company to show homes, screen tenants and negotiate leases between tenant and landlord. I equate it to Charlie's Angles. Charlie was never seen but was the guy everyone needed by-off from. Charlie is the owner.

The property manager will say, "let me see if the owner will allow you Mr. 760 credit score who makes $300,000 a year to rent this $1000 a month home. I am not sure..." The tenant then waits. And waits. And calls (repeatedly) asking if the owner approved. Then when they are told "not yet," the tenant proceeds to give lots more personal information about why they are so hot and the owner should pick them. The property management company then takes copious notes of what the tenant says and puts it into the database. For later. Just in case. Of course, what really has happened is the potential tenant has called sixteen times in an hour and the owner just hasn't checked their voice mail yet.

Please don't confuse this: property managers don't approve tenants. That's the landlord's doing.

Property Managers Schedule Maintenance When Something Breaks: I don't fix broken toilets. Neither does my broker or my company's accountant. We call someone to do this. The big misnomer I hear from owners is that they are surprised they have to write the check anyway. After all, they have a property management company! The work isn't done for free. Sometimes (like in the case of Luigi's company--and actually the one I work for as well), the property management company has an on-site maintenance company they are affiliated with to handle repairs.

Property Managers Handle the Legal and the Ugly: Property managers call the eviction attorney (guess who writes the check?). Property managers go to court to explain to Your Honor that the tenant really did trash the home. Here is the proof. Here is the lease. Here is the receipts.

There are some statistics somewhere that suggest that most novice owners hire property management companies when relationships go South. The owner and the tenant have been chummy. The tenant gets a little late on rent and figures there is enough good will floating around to stretch things out a bit. Then something breaks and the owner, who hasn't received rent, doesn't want (or can't afford--because they haven't received the rent) to fix the broken whatever. Then the tenant, who is pissy that the broken whatever hasn't been fixed withholds rent. This vicious circle continues and eventually the owner, fed up and feeling helpless, hires a property management company to straighten out the tenant.

Property Managers Keep Really Good Records: Actually, in Arizona at least, property management companies are more closely scrutinized and more often audited than non-property management brokerages. For one reason is because there are trust accounts. Property management companies handle tenants' security deposits. Think of it this way: if a property management company manages 800 homes and the average security deposit is $1200, that's a lot of money a property manager has in the bank. In addition, any tenant can complain about anything to the Department of Real Estate and be heard. So, property management companies keep tighter controls on their books and need to be meticulous in their record keeping.

Property Managers Handle Frustrated Owners: And we are all frustrated. We feel helpless. A smart owner knows they are not the only fire-drill on the property manager's plate and knows how to be gracious when the need arises. The foolish owner demeans everyone, making sure their calls won't be returned and their e-mails will be a lower priority.

Property Managers Tell Stories Everyone Who Hears Thinks We Made Up: No we didn't. The guy who had the presence of mind to send a selfie of him holding an envelope in front of our office as "proof" he paid the rent, yet it was never received, is hilarious to us. It brings a bit of amusement to balance out the frustrated owner who did not receive their money.

Yea, I Said That

The phone call today was cathartic.

It was the mortgage company calling once again, (after being unwilling to negotiate with us several months ago), telling me before we continued the call I would have to verify my social security number. This particular representative was a bit more innovative than many I have spoken to in the past. When I refused, he asked if I could verify my payment amount or my street address. I happen to know from past experience, when they ask this particular question, they are only referring to the home where they are the mortgage holder.

I was pleased to say, "I don't have a mortgage with you."

"Precarious and Unpredictable"

Someone on Twitter decided I needed to read this riveting story. I don't know the person who sent it to me. Nor do I know the identity or credentials of "realestatechief". But, in case you want the Reader's Digest version of the last several years of this blog, here you go. Except number 3. No. No. No.

I left a reply for Realestaetchief about Number 3, but the author chose not to publish it. It went like this: Do not "reward" your tenants for doing what is contractually obligated. This is a business relationship. The IRS does not reward you for paying your taxes. The mortgage company doesn't reward you for paying your mortgage. Additionally, personal relationships can come back to bite you in a court of law.

Some of you three long-time readers may remember, I once said "Happy Mother's Day" to a tenant and spent two hours in 2011 testifying against her because of something so innocuous.

Maybe I will write a post later titled, "5 Tenant Tips for Not Annoying your Landlord." But not sure I can stop at 5.

Update: realestatechief wrote me back: he said, "Obviously you only do this with good tenants." No. No. NO. Please don't do this with any tenants. 

5 Tips for becoming a successful Landlord 

by realestatechief 

The path to becoming a landlord can be precarious and unpredictable. The lessons you learn as a landlord are often costly and time consuming. In my few years of being a landlord I have learned some incredibly important tips.

1. Don’t let a good tenant go over desire to minimally increase rent. Greed is toxic. It destroys all relationships. For a minimal increase in rent don’t risk losing a good tenant. A 25 to 50 dollar increase every month is not worth losing a tenant who pays on time has kept your property clean and is trustworthy. Keep good tenants happy.

2. Keep your property clean and renovated. You don’t want to attract the wrong type of tenants. Uncleanliness and disorder in the property you own will breed that sort of behavior with your tenants.  Floors bathrooms kitchens and light fixtures should always be updated. This will attract clean and orderly tenants. It is a wise decision to do this trust me.

3. Reward good tenants with holiday gifts. Even a 5 dollar Starbucks gift card given to your tenants will make them happy. These little tokens of kindness go a long way and are very meaningful. Any good relationship even if it’s a tenant landlord one requires work and sacrifice.

4. Avoid pets. Pets ruin properties. They damage wood eat everything and can cause significant damage. Be careful when it comes to pets.

5. Choose tenants very wisely. Screen your tenants. Low credit scores and bad background checks are grounds for dismissing a potential tenant. Felony charges on a potential tenant are a definite no.
Always remember that the tenant landlord relationship is very important and must be maintained. Keep your tenants happy and you will be content as well. 

Hat Tricks

So this week I got an e-mail from Flunky the AssHat. He sweetly told me my tenant in Alabaster is having some trouble with her garage door opener. He sent me the work order and asked if I would like him to handle this or if I have a preferred vendor. He has never asked me before if I have a "preferred vendor."Generally, it is "What do you want to do." And the answer of course is: "figure it out yourself--that's why I have hired a property management company in the first place."

When I asked him for the scope of work, because "garage door isn't working properly and tenant changed batteries and can't figure it out," didn't exactly give me enough reassurances this wouldn't be a $10,000 cost to me. Flunky the Hat professionally and promptly returned my e-mail saying he didn't think it would cost much. And, (AND) if I used his qualified handyman it should be a minimal cost. I am paraphrasing here, "minimal" might have a few too many syllables.

At any rate, I gave my blessing and told him to get it fixed. And what do you know! Flunky got back to me. The work was done in less than 24 hours. And, for the first time in Alabama property management history, the cost was under $100.

A Gazillion Less One

This is the second home we bought. Mr and Mrs. C lived here. Then Mr. Noble. Then another family who had a sweet little girl named Natalie and a dog named Rocky. Then the cop with the 640+ credit score and his girlfriend and their two babies. They were the ones who destroyed it. 

I heard this house was supposed to have been auctioned off yesterday. I thought about it on and off through the day, wondering if someone bought it. Wondering what happens if nobody does. 

It certainly didn't look like this when I saw it in March. For one thing, in this picture there are windows. 

I no longer mourn specifically loosing this house. I am still sad. I feel like a looser. I have been told I am not one. I understand logically why decisions were made. But I failed. I will get over it eventually. But it will be years before we recoup this damage. And there will be at least one more home to go back to the bank. Hopefully only one more. 

I really want someone to love this home. I want someone to sit out front on that gorgeous porch, looking out into the hills, sipping tea thinking about how lucky they are to have landed that house--their home. I want kids to splash around in the pond, looking for frogs. I want a little boy to chase a puppy through the woods. But overall, I want whomever ends up with this home can make it a happy place. It is time for something positive to happen there. 

You Decide

So, this past month I have not made any good friends over at the ole' property management company. In fact, I am pretty sure when the phone over rings, and they see the Arizona area code, they all stare into space, kind of playing their own version receptionist "Chicken" to see who will answer it first.

To put things into perspective, Flunky (who has been tentatively promoted in my book lately from "Asshat" to "Hat") and I currently have most stable relationship over there. So, as you can see. I am not loved. But I don't care as long as they do what I pay them to do.

Which brings me to the other aspect of this month. I have a vacant home. It needs some maintenance. So, at the beginning of November, I asked for the power and water to be turned on at the home. I also asked for a key to be left in the lockbox and even verified the code (1966--because that is what it always is).

Two weeks later, when I had coordinated everything with my repair people, the locks had been changed again (this is after they had changed it in October). There was no key. There was no lockbox either. About that time I was going ballistic over the property management folks continuing to drop the ball and pretty much was black-listed from everyone's Christmas card list.

The week before Thanksgiving, I got a call from the maintenance company I hired. Would I please turn on the power and water? This was news to me. After all, I had requested this weeks ago. The maintenance company also asked if a lockbox could be put at the home so they could come and go. Another surprise, given I was specifically told this had been done.

Last week, I contacted Willy, asking if someone for the love of all things holy could please have the damn water and power turned on. After all, I had been asking for a month and had been told it was completed. I also asked if I could have a lockbox--like the one that had been there a week earlier--reinstalled so I could get my repair folks in the door.

Willy replied by telling me some intern was involved in this process. I wanted to ask if they taught "picking up the phone and calling the power company" in one of her college classes, but thought better of it. Willy also directed me to Flunky who swore a lockbox had been installed. I even confirmed the code with him the Wednesday before Thanksgiving: 1966? Yep. That's it.

Additionally, I got back to Willy on the Wednesday prior to Thanksgiving confirming the intern had earned her keep by making those two itsy bitsy phone calls. Why yes, of course the water and power are on! Don't be silly. After all, she is a college student.

Last Friday--the day after Thanksgiving--I found out there was indeed a lockbox. But the code wasn't 1966. After texting Flunky, he gave me 1995 and 1985. Nope.

I also texted Luigi saying, "I understand this is a holiday weekend, but I have people who have been held up a month by you folks waiting to get in the house and please have the one person who can figure out the lockbox code that has always been 1966 for the past three years contact me immediately." It turns out the code is now 1996.

Also, this 1955 house, apparently is impossible to break into unless one is shattering a window.

Once that drama was solved, the good folks at Make It Ready went in. Only to find out the water hadn't been turned on. According to Willy today, it was because it was a holiday week last week. I did not pursue this and ask if it had indeed been holiday weeks the last five weeks this request had been made. I figure I have done enough damage.

Marty Sunshine and Carolsue think this is retaliation for Hurricane Landlord a couple of weeks ago. I am leaning towards incompetence.

I'm Not Taking the Heat for this One

A year ago, we closed our PO Box. Frankly at that point in our accidental business, the only mail I was getting was credit card solicitations and a mortgage statement for the home on Hysteria Lane. This particular home is in Mr. Partner's name. At the time, I closed it, I told Mr. Partner please call the bank and have the mortgage statements sent to either me or Bliz. I didn't care which. We just needed to make sure we could pay them.

Meanwhile, because I wasn't getting the bill for the home, and the mortgage was being paid automatically every month, I didn't give it much thought. I figured Mr. Partner has forwarded the statement to Bliz. Additionally, because Bliz and I have much, much more pressing items to discuss other than silly mortgage statements, it never came up. Why would it? To my knowledge, the mortgage was being paid.

But behind the scenes, months ago, Mr. Partner had started getting calls from this particular bank. And you know what he did? He ignored them. Yep. He didn't answer one call. Presumably, he also got mail to his home address (because, trust me on this one, when a bank wants money, they find every avenue to tell you that you are late).

Anyway, Mr. Partner got a phone call today. This time he didn't ignore it. And boy was he mad.

When he called Marty (thank God, he called Marty and not me), he wanted to make sure heads were rolling. Apparently there is a problem. What do you know? The payments we have been making for the past year are completely incorrect. In fact, because we have been shorting the payments for so long, the mortgage company has raised our payment amount significantly. Maybe it is just me, but it would have been nice to know this much, much sooner.

Of course, if the payments had been coming to me or Bliz all along, or if he had answered his phone or mail for the past few months this might have not been an issue at all.

Bittersweet

I got clarification on the new Maintenance hierarchy at the property management company. Flunky has been demoted to "Owner Coordinator" which means I still have to deal with him.

Fabio--whom Carolsue tells me is "totally hot"--is the new Maintenance Manager. His job is two-fold: he is to negotiate the best prices on the work and he is to do quality control over the vendors to make sure the work is done properly.

The Landlord Who Stole Christmas

To be quite honest, my hissy fit at the property management company last Friday was a consciously timed decision. My thought was pay up give 30 day move notices, which would put the offending deadbeats on the street (or probably moving) right before Christmas. And in my passive-aggressive Aries head, I was perfectly fine with this arrangement.

I should also state, that Willy, who is my main contact at the property management company, is not the person who has been collecting the rents, but then again, nobody has. But really, but in this case it is not Willy's department that deals with rent collection. So, my scathing conversation with him last week should have been at someone else--though I'm not sure who. Meanwhile, I have now been passed to Ms. Amy. I suspect I was passed to her because, either she was the one taking the partial payments, she drew the short straw or she felt brave enough to deal with me. Or all of the above. I have always liked Ms. Amy best at that company, so that works for me.

Back to my dilemma at hand. I have three tenants--all of them renting the three properties Marty Sunshine and I own without any partners--who seem to feel I am running a homeless shelter. In fact, they repeatedly pay late with no consequence. Of the three tenants, two of them are on month-to-month leases and can be given a 30 day notice at any time to haul their butts somewhere else, hence I waited until last week to stir up trouble.

My first stop in my tirade was to go after the the home (month to month) where the professional football player is living. I was pretty sure his girlfriend didn't want to move herself to an new home during his prime working season. By the way, she paid in full last Friday and has stated paying late will no longer be an issue. My tenant in Fultondale managed to pay a sizable payment this month, and their particular mortgage is the least expensive, so I will work on them in later.

However, Mrs. Martin (who is in a lease), has some zen payment schedule only known to her. Not only does she pay when she wants, she pays what she wants. For example, she was under the mistaken impression November's rent was only $150 and nothing else would be necessary for me to be a happy owner. If this were the first time she had played this game, I might have been sympathetic, but no. Frankly, Buckaroo turned 13 seven weeks ago and our weekly grocery bill has tripled since.

Anyway, Monday I found out Mrs. Martin got the message: pay up or leave. So, she wrote Ms. Amy an e-mail with a sob story. At the end of the very long list of excuses, she said she is more than happy to make payment arrangements by December 5 (a Saturday, mind you) and the rest--and I am not making this up--sometime "after Christmas." Ms. Amy asked if I was ok with this arrangement. Oh yes, lest I forget, Mrs. Martin also said the reason she is normally late is she gets her first paycheck of the month on the 16th. (I'm guessing the particular paycheck this month was only for $150.)

First, I was not ok with this arrangement. There was nothing in her e-mail that said she would pay by December 5, just that she would make arrangements. Second of all, there are a lot of days between "After Christmas 2015" and "After some random Christmas later in life."

After a bit of back and forth, here is what I finally agreed upon. She can pay the entire balance of what is owed to me in back rent by close of business December 4, 2015 (notice I added the year). I will not accept a penny less. Nor will I accept the payment on December 7, 2015 at 8:01 a.m. Legalowl is standing by and ready to evict and garnish her wages on December 7.

Additionally, she is not waiting until sometime after Christmas to pay December's rent. She is not going to go out and spend a bunch of money that is contractually owed to me on do-dads for her grandchildren and friends and then expect me to be understanding. No. She will have December's rent paid in full--along with late fees--by December 17. If she doesn't, please see the last sentence in the above paragraph.

I also told Ms. Amy, "From this point forward, rent will not be accepted if she pays after the fifth of any future month. Nor will it be accepted if it is one penny less than what she owes. No more deals. No more negotiating. This is her one and only chance. Merry Christmas to her."

This apparently was conveyed to Mrs. Martin (though I am sure Ms. Amy was a bit more polite). Mrs. Martin came back and said she would "break her back" to make sure rent was on time from now on. She didn't want to move.

This Just In

Luigi sent me an e-mail today. He is restructuring. AND Flunky the Asshat Maintenance Manager is no longer the Maintenance Manager. Not sure if he is still employed, but frankly anyone else has to be a vast improvement.

Not Sure They Are Calling Me "A Dream Owner" Anymore

Last Friday I got into a scathing argument with Willy at Luigi's office. My complaint is that he has let my tenants slide with making partial payments and there has been no consequence to the tenants so they continue to do so. His response was "perhaps we have differing opinions of what property managers do."

Perhaps we do. And I told him so. I also told him in my definition, a property manager has a fiduciary responsibility to protect their client's assets. Because the property manager works for the owner, not the tenant. At least that is the legal definition in 49 other states. I also wrote a lot of other things that included "I am not running a homeless shelter." And if truth be told, I yelled a lot of other things that it is probably a good thing Willy didn't hear through cyber space.

I also e-mailed Luigi saying that if I (again) have to manage my properties and, in this case, his staff, please just put me on the payroll. I would love to tell you that was well received. But no.

In fact, my comments were so poorly received that Willy the Coward started having another person in the office answer my e-mails. However, I did make headway. One tenant, who was told that she was facing immediate eviction if she didn't haul her butt down to the property management office immediately, actually paid up.

The other tenant--the worst offended--still thinks I am kidding apparently because she didn't do anything. Why would she? Willy hasn't stuck up for me this long. So, tomorrow it is a call to LegalOwl, letting her know to evict this chick. She can find another owner to screw over.

Done. Done. Done.

It appears there is administrative red tape for our deed in lieu of foreclosure.

Issue Number 1: "The appraiser can't access the property." I find this hard to believe for the following reasons:

1. The property management company has been more than willing to give out the keys, but nobody has come by.

2. There is a lock box on the property and I have given out the code to everyone East of the Mississippi who wants it (1966 if you care).

3. The house is missing the garage door.

4. The house is missing almost every window.

I am certain between reasons 1 and 4, someone can find their way into this house if they really want to go in it.

Issue Number 2:

Some lawyer somewhere wants a signed statement from our former partners saying they agree to this foreclosure. Good luck with that. They haven't been our partners since 2007. They may or may not be living in this country. If not, they are in Asia somewhere. In order for them to sign (and notarize) they would have to find an American Consulate. And the letter would have to be back before close of business next Wednesday. Yeah, that's not happening.

Because of these issues, our deed in lieu has become a judicial foreclosure. At this point, I just don't care.

I'm Thinking Serial Killers Need Not Apply

It is rental season around here. Yes, I am up to my armpits in showing rentals this week. The 13 year old is perpetually hungry, so rentals it is. Anyway, I was looking for a rental for a client of mine. In the private realtor remarks I found the following qualifications the owner would accept.

"For a more smooth application process: Be sure to have client prepared with proof of income (Bank statements or pay stubs) and letters from previous landlords *** Please make sure that your clients have MINIMUM credit scores of 550, make Minimum 2.5x monthly rent, no evictions in the past 7 years, and a minimal criminal history." 

Yes. Really.

And speaking of ways not to rent a home...

Please don't call me, wanting to rent a home and then disclose you are self employed. When I inquire what kind of business you say "growing herbs."

No. No. No.

How Not To Rent A Home

It's been a while since I covered this particular topic, but apparently it bears repeating. Unfortunately, the people who need to hear it the most don't read this blog.

If you are looking for a rental property, it is in your best interest to make a positive first impression. When I show homes, I coach prospective tenants on this. It is amazing how many of them need a quick charm-school lesson. But, that is for another blog.

Currently, I have two rental homes listed for rent for Arizona clients. They are--and I am not making this up--80 miles apart and still in the same county. Both homes are fantastic and have a lot of pluses, especially as far as rentals go. Both owners are requiring the same from prospective tenants: no evictions, no felonies, must currently earn three times the monthly rent and finally, no pets.

Let me repeat that last part: no pets. Frankly--as much as I like animals--I don't see why any landlord would allow pets. Ever. I also know there may come a time sooner than later where I have to rent and my cat comes with me. Hopefully, I can find the one landlord who will be so gracious as to make an exception. But it won't be my two clients. And I don't blame them a bit. And for that matter, I don't allow pets in my rental homes either.

That said, the number of calls and e-mails I get daily is increasing as I get closer to the middle of the month. "Will you allow section 8" (That was for the 3,500 square foot $1,900 rental I have in the West Valley). No. And your Section 8 voucher will only give you $1100.

"I have an eviction but it wasn't my fault?" Was your name on the lease? Then you have an eviction.

"My husband and I are both felons." Was it for drunk driving? "No." Let's see... the main types of felonies are drugs, crimes against people, crimes against property. If it wasn't for a DUI, it was probably for one of the three formerly mentioned. I understand you have done your time. But do your former (or current?) felon friends understand you have done your time and will they come looking for you in my client's home? For that matter, though you may have paid your debt to society, how do my clients know you have changed your lifestyle?

"Currently making three times the rent--gross" isn't really that crazy of a requirement. It is even for the the tenant's own protection. If they make that much, they can afford the house, if they don't, they will probably end up with an eviction on their record. I am floored at the number of folks calling me lately who can't multiply times three. I am even more floored at the number of unemployed folks calling me saying they don't have a job, but need somewhere to live and will the owner just give them a chance. I often give them the name of a few charities to help people in their situation until they get back on their feet. My owners have assets. They want them protected. They aren't running a homeless shelter.

And of course, back to the pets. "It is a little dog." "It is a sweet cat." yep. But they are still furry critters and the owners said no. "But if you would just ask....?" I asked. They said no to the last six people who have four legged family members. No.

While we are on the subject or prospective tenants, please don't call me at 8 a.m. on a Sunday, using big flowery words instead of the usual cultural vernacular. It tries my patience.

Today's call went like this:

"Would you be willing to take it upon yourself to allow us access into your rental at some time of mutual convenience so that we may ascertain whether or not it would be suitable habitation for us?" (barf).

Me: The owner is not allowing pets, felons, evictions and you must make three times the rent. Do you fit this criteria?

Tenant: Will the owner make an exception, as we have a charming American Bulldog.

Me: So, you have have a pitbull.

 In all fairness, the woman sort of gasped when I suggested no felons too. But either way, there wouldn't be a time of mutual convenience where they could see the house.

On the Fence

Today's ole' Blog is courtesy of our favorite Maintenance Manager who sent me photos of a repair he allegedly completed at my home in Alabaster. Apparently there was an issue with the fence leaning over a few weeks ago. I have heard nothing since and just figured someone would get to it when the tenant squawked loud enough.

And, because this week I once again ran to Luigi and offered my two cents about the level of service his company was offering, Flunky opted to be Flunky on the Spot. He apparently got sick of hearing the tenant squawk or decided to curry favor in my camp (who am I kidding) and send me a follow up e-mail about how the work has been completed, and please see the photos.

Is this "completed?" You decide.

To be fair, he sent me about five variations of this photo. This was the best of the bunch.

For some reason, he also sent me these two as well.

I did write back to Flunky (and CC Luigi) suggesting that surely he did more than just use my money to prop up the fence with two freestanding posts. These are the before photos, right? And if so, would he please send over the "after" pictures as well?  

And don't ask me about these last two pictures that he included. I recognize the one as the interior of my home in Alabaster (and I believe that is a rug that once belonged to the first tenant who lived there in 2006). And other seems to be a truck bed with various junk strewn about. 

I don't expect a response to my e-mail this weekend (or for that matter, at all). What I really hope Flunky is doing instead of responding is actually fixing the fence this time. 

Ooops He Did It Again

So, Flunky sent me a quote to make my vacant home rent-ready. The lovely quote for $3,700 included such items as "waxing the floors" and "removing the vine from the side of the home." When I saw the quote, I wrote the most polite and professional e-mail I could muster.

I asked Flunky if all the items on the list were necessary and could he please give me a bare-bones quote instead, because I know Mr. Partner will never agree to $3,700 (and neither would I). Now, you see what I did here? I allowed Flunky a chance to save face. Give me a better quote and we will both be happy.

But Flunky the Asshat Maintenance Manager didn't come by his name accidentally. Instead, Flunky wrote me back, telling me all of the items were indeed necessary to make the home rent-ready and if I knew a thing or two about property management, I would know not to question his superior intellect. Or, something to that affect.

Instead, I made two decisions. The first one was to find someone else to do the work. And what do you know! I found a quote for significantly less money. In fact, it is 60 percent less. Additionally, it is from someone I know and trust over in Birmingham.

The second item on my to-do list was to forward Flunky's e-mail to Luigi, explaining that once again, Flunky lost Luigi some money. After all, this is Luigi's maintenance company too. I explained the Flunky's quote seemed like fluffy-bunny stuff with a huge price tag. I said I am getting same work done for much less from an outside vendor. And, this was someone I knew and trusted, so it isn't like I just went to Craigslist and tried my luck on the first sober person who picked up the phone.

I understand everything has a cost and time isn't free. Flunky's time is valuable too and I am sure he doesn't want to spend hours figuring out what needs to be done only to have his price undercut. Nor do I appreciate spending hours on the phone having someone give me a better price. I have other things to do too and after all, that is why I hired a property management company to begin with. 

Truth be told, I don't want Flunky touching my houses. And it appears he doesn't want to work anyway. 

The Tale of Two Foreclosures (part 2)

Though the Pinson Foreclosure is going extraordinarily well, the same can't be said for the foreclosure in North Birmingham.

Ironically, this home would not be in foreclosure if the bank hadn't called the second mortgage due last year for no reason. The months we fought that, coupled with the tenant moving out, the property needing some TLC (which equates to an influx of cash we didn't have) to make it move-in ready, caused a snowball affect we just couldn't recover from. If only one of those items had happened: the second loan being called due or the tenant moving out, we probably would have fought our way back up.

This particular home has a first and second mortgage with the same bank. At the same time we decided to let this one go as well as the Pinson home, the mortgage company came to us and said, "We have agreed to modify your loan. Yay you."

Last April when I explained to the Asset Manager it was too little, too late, he gave me my options: have a short sale with the agent of our choosing or let the home go into foreclosure. He assured me a foreclosure was a very, very bad choice and I would be better off going the (cough-cough) short sale route. But it was my decision.

As we were talking that day last April, he told me he had just pulled up Marty Sunshine's credit and was shocked we were making the decision to let the home go. He explicitly implied (can one explicitly imply?) that we must have money somewhere and why don't we act like grow ups, suck it up and pay what we owe and keep the house. I told him we would if we could. And perhaps if his bank had not called the loan due, or even modified it months earlier instead of repeatedly asking for the same documents, we could have pulled it off. But by then, we were out of money. Our home was vacant and we did not have the capital to make it rent-ready.

Since then, the Asset Manager's name has been changed to the Bigoted Ass. Manager. Which, by the way, he is. Kirby was our agent for this short sale. The Bigoted Ass. Manager told me I should find one who understands the neighborhood better and "the kind of people" who would want a home like I had in "special neighborhoods."

Kirby worked his buns off and brought in four cash offers. The Bigoted Ass. Manager's imaginary committee said they would only consider one of the offers if Marty and I brought several thousand dollars more than our loan obligation to the table. They asked us to sign a promissory note--which I suppose we could have signed, but we didn't have the money to pay it anyway and didn't want to take on that debt.

We then asked to do a deed in lieu of foreclose. The Ass. Manager sent me an awe shucks e-mail saying we really didn't want to do that and gee whiz, he didn't know how to do one anyway. So, no.

At that point, Legal Owl told us to ignore the bank. They would eventually figure out we weren't paying. She also said to pay the taxes and insurance on the property, but I am not sure that's a good idea. We paid the insurance last July. In my opinion, the Bigoted Ass. Manager took that to mean we were playing games with the mortgage company. We were just trying to be responsible.

Last week we got a letter from some attorney who is representing the bank. The letter went on to state the bank is starting a judicial foreclosure process. It seems silly to me, but whatever. Marty Sunshine called the attorney and asked her if we could just do a deed in lieu of foreclosure. It would be faster and cheaper for all involved. After all, we are happy to cooperate and they can have keys at any time. The attorney agreed and asked who we had been working with at the bank. Marty cheerfully supplied the attorney with the Bigoted Ass. Manger's contact info.

The attorney called us back yesterday, absolutely floored. Not only would the Bigoted Ass. Manager not agree to any easy way to make this end, apparently this guy is trying to stick it to us. He told the attorney unless we agree to pay what we owe or sign a promissory note, they will just do a judicial foreclosure. She didn't say it seemed personal, but that is what was explicitly implied.

The Tale of Two Foreclosures (part 1)

The saga of the home in Pinson will soon be coming to an end. This charming three bedroom home is nestled in a small rural mountain area, situated on two acres. Though the porch spans the front of the home, after the main back yard, there just happens to be a little pond out yonder.

The idiot couple with the 640+ credit score who moved in last year trashed the place, skirted the law, didn't pay rent and stayed for a year. I finally got to see the place this past March. While the tenant was giving me some sob story about how awful her life was and how it was her boyfriend who caused all the damage, I was quickly calculating how much money I would have to bring in to fix the place. When I mentally hit $40k, I stopped counting, had a semi-serious panic attack and immediately went back to the car. I knew insurance would not give us anywhere near that amount to make the place habitable. We had drained our savings paying for homes deadbeats had ruined so that we could keep our credit intact.

Credit be damned. We couldn't do it any more. It wasn't a decision we entered into lightly, but we opted to stop paying the mortgage. We contacted mortgage folks and asked what we needed to do to give the home back as peacefully and as quickly as possible. Please! Just take it.

It is now six months later. I have worked with several people at the mortgage company, including a woman named "NayNay" who apparently only answered e-mails, not phone calls, and seemed to have a serious aversion to good punctuation and grammar. For the last couple of months, we have been working with Jonathan. He returns calls and e-mails and has been spot on with his assistance.

We also have a second mortgage on this particular home. Representatives call me twice every day. Seven days a week. These representatives aren't very nice. In fact, one even told me if I would just stop drinking Starbucks I could afford to pay the mortgage. Oh... if only I could afford Starbucks right now.

Even with the idiot representatives at the second mortgage company, this has been a relatively smooth process. In fact, if this was the only time in my life I was going into foreclosure, I would say the process was streamlined and everyone (sans the snarky folks from India who work for the second mortgage company) was professional and polite.

By the way, our foreclosure sale is November 30, just in case you want a sweet little home nestled in the mountains with a lovely view and a pond.

And, The Rest of the Story

Late last Tuesday night, fresh from the Bernice drama of last two days, I called Carolsue. After asking the property management company to drop everything and take care of me, Bernice had just blown me off. Though she has rented all of her life, she apparently wasn't expecting to part with a security deposit.  That Tuesday night, I was tired and frustrated. And, I just wanted to vent to someone about how much I absolutely hate being a potential landlord to crazy people. And more importantly, how did I screw up my karma so badly that crazies are attracted my way?

That's when Carolsue dropped this little nugget on me. While she was working on the steps at the house Monday (helping me get ready for Wednesday's rental), and while Flunky's crew was over there changing the locks, replacing the broken window and fixing the drywall in the bathroom, Bernice just happened to pop by. I guess she had nothing better to do with her entire afternoon except channel her inner contractor, because she walked around, overseeing the work, telling everyone how she was moving in two days later. She asked the crew if they would fix this? And would they take care of that? Thankfully, the crew told her that was up to the owner to decide. Hence, this explains why I was getting a ton of texts asking about maintenance from Bernice.

But, that's not all. Because Bernice was telling everyone how she moving in (she had neglected drive over to the property management company and fill out an application at this point, much less be approved), one member of Flunky's crew gave her a key to my freshly re-keyed home. Apparently he just figured she said she was moving in, it must be true. I am sure he was doing it as a favor to all involved and had the best of intentions.

However, when Carolsue told me this Tuesday night, I stroked out.

To put this in perspective: some chick who has to be out of her home by Wednesday now has a key to my house. What is to stop her from making up a fake lease and and just moving herself in? This was a potential nightmare (actually it was a true nightmare, because that is what I dreamed of that night). This scenario, happens more often then you think. Squatters are hard to get rid of. And with the Alabama court system so darn slow, getting rid of someone with a key and a fake lease could take a year--if she moved on her own. and frankly, with an open bankruptcy and an eviction, Bernice has nothing too loose. So, while I was on the phone with Carolsue, I was frantically e-mailing everyone in Luigi's organization whom I had an e-mail address, explaining the enormity of the situation.

Then, very early Wednesday morning Jeff from Luigi's office called. And when I re-iterated how a member of Flunky's crew illegally gave out a key to my home, Jeff said--and I am not making this up: "That's the craziest thing I ever heard."

I couldn't help myself. My filter was gone as I incredulously replied, "Seriously Jeff? You have been in property management for at least a year and that's the craziest thing you ever heard?"

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.