I Always Ask

By the way, one of the great things about having vendors who know you is that they will give you an inside scoop on your tenants.

For example, last week when Clay was working on the air conditioner at Mrs. Waterford's home, he gave me a report. Mrs. Waterford's home is clean, well kept up. The air filter was changed. The dog hasn't destroyed the yard and the carpets are immaculate.

I asked.

Note to Tenants:

Dear Tenants,

Arizona doesn't acknowledge daylight savings. Please understand, when you called in the past few months at 8 a.m. your time, it was 7 a.m. my time. Now when you call at 8 a.m. it is 6 a.m.

At 7 a.m. in my home, only Marty Sunshine is moving around. He isn't always cheerful at that hour. At 6 a.m. Marty is going to make me answer the phone. I guarantee I won't be cheerful. Please consider this your warning.

Thank you,
The Landord

Ms. Popularity

Yesterday morning, I was one popular landlord.

One of my favorite tenants is moving out. Drat! I am sorry to see him go. He wants out of his lease early because essentially he can't afford the rent any more. I like this scenario a lot better than having me hunt him down next month when he is hard on his luck. Or worse, him deciding just to live there indefinitely for free.

Before I gave him an answer, I asked him some basic questions: What kind of condition could I expect to find the house in when they move out? Were there any repairs? Did the dog do any damage I should know about? Were there any unfortunate bathroom fires that were never reported? Was there a meth lab in the garage I need to know about before I re-rent the house? You know, the very basics.

Yes, I will let him out of the lease. But, I won't give him his deposits back. He is breaking the lease.

Also yesterday morning, Mrs. 508 called asking for advice. Apparently she thinks I moonlight as a counselor. She even told me I should. I happen to like Mrs. 508, so talking to her doesn't bother me. However, the real reason for her call was to confirm when the rent was really due (check the lease!).

Mr. Partner once mentioned contracts are for when times aren't good. Not for when times are easy. This is so true.

Incidentally, Mrs. 508 and I are now on the same page about the whole rent thing. Somehow, she was just under the mistaken illusion she had a few extra weeks before the rent came due. I am sure this happens all the time with tenants who have lived in my home for MORE THAN A YEAR. I can see how this can get confusing. Nevertheless, despite her delusions, Mrs. 508 is pretty ok.

I also got my weekly e-mail from Ms. Betty. This time the furnace isn't working right. But, I am sure Clay can handle it. Which is what I told her. Call his company.

The dishwasher delivery folks looking for Ms. Betty also called me from Ms. Betty's home. They couldn't get in touch with her. And, if they didn't hear from her in the next ten minutes they were hauling the dishwasher back to the store. Turns out she was in the house. I am pleased to say Ms. Betty got her dishwasher.

In addition to all this, Mr. Partner e-mailed me with tons of questions. When could he do his taxes? When would he be getting an update? When was the price of coconuts in Madagascar going back up? Ok, maybe not that last question. Maybe.

The PIA Factor

Lately, last week in particular, major home repairs have been the norm. It makes me wonder if I can expect the phone call at 2 a.m. saying the toilet overflowed. Now I would appreciate, before we go any further, if we could just stop for a moment and say a silent prayer that I don't get that phone call. Not that it would matter. It would go to voice mail.

I don't mind home repairs. Especially because I am not being expected to perform them. I can paint a wall or two. But, it is a bit of a stretch to ask me to install a dishwasher. Though I hate to say it, I probably could.

What I find interesting--especially when I talk with people who have thought about dabbling in rental properties--is last week's antics are what freak out potential landlords. I don't always think the panic is about the money they have to put out to fix these things. That, of course, is never fun. But more about the mind set that something is out of their control.

This past week there were a lot of repairs. Usually I have a repair every couple of months. I know it is just part of doing business. Maintenance happens. Just like if it were your own home or car. I would just appreciate if it didn't happen all in one week.

Last week:

Ms. Betty got her white, non-Bosch dishwasher. Except the major retailer I purchased it from won't install the damn thing (give you a hint: the employees wear orange aprons). Mr. Betty volunteered. I am going to let him. After all, if I think I can install it, how hard could it be?

Mrs. Waterford had some problem with the air conditioner that is too long and boring to explain in my patch of cyber space. In girl speak: it stopped working. Her repair took me by a surprise because the home (and air conditioner) wasn't that old. Nevertheless, I was able to call my buddy Clay the AC Guy who came to the rescue. Because I am such a good customer, he cut me a break when I asked him to reduce the price a bit.

The bees are back at Ms. Robin's now home. I haven't heard the overall solution to her dilema yet. I did hear Mr. Robin was stung. Sorry about that. Hopefully I will get some sort of answer of the best course of bee erratication soon.

Getting these repairs done weren't really that expensive in the grand scheme of things. Our rents cover the repairs (though don't leave for much else other than the mortgage payments). I have some expenses (or in the case of the dishwasher, a capital improvements) to deduct from taxes next year. And, because I acted quickly, I have happy tenants.

His Final Offer

Mr. Richards wants a new lease.

He is using an unusual negotiation technique. It is akin to a teen ager telling his partents, ok... I will only borrow your car if I can be home by curfew, drive the speed limit and I insist on filling up the tank before I return the car to you. This is my final offer.

And, me saying, Ok, you will only borrow your car if you are home by curfew, drive the speed limit, fill up the tank and wash it before you return the car to me.

You see, Mr. Richard's lease isn't up. I have never fully grasped why he thinks this is the case. But if he wants a new lease. I am happy to oblidge. Because in his old lease, I didn't have the foresight to include remedies to Mr. Richard's-prone behaviors that drive me out of my mind.

In the mean-time, I am holding his new lease out of arm's reach, telling him I am waiting for the full rent to come in before I give in. As soon as he is caught up (which according to him is in a few weeks and so far he is doing really well with getting caught up), I will pass out his new and improved lease.

What am I Supposed to Do With This?

My quest to have ONE week without Ms. Betty contacting me failed again. On Sunday I got the following e-mail. This was the entire note:

We cleaned the whole building out and went to the dump the yard is clean we will cut the grass next weekend

Never have I had any tenants make a point to tell me when they are doing yard work. Except Mrs. 508--but that was a special circumstance--I asked.

All her grammar issues aside. Seriously, what am I supposed to do with this? Is there a hidden subtext? Is this a test? If I don't write back have I failed?

If I do write back and say something like, "Gee, good to know. Thanks" will that be the right thing to say? Will she feel the need to send me more rude e-mails if I don't say "Wow! Good for you!" with the right amount of enthusiasm?

And, why tell me about the lawn? We don't chat. We aren't friendly. And, I am not sure I even like her any more. I don't contact her when I am doing dishes. I don't see a need to share with her when I am folding laundry. All of this familiarity is weirding me out.

When I asked Marty what the correct thing to do was, he said, "post it on your blog."

News

Although I could bore you with tomes of drama related to Marty Sunshine's layoff and how running an accidental business in Alabama is affected by this, I won't. However, I will give you the highlights.

One highlight was watching the dawn of realization streak across Mr. Partner's face when he started adding up the realities: Business is seriously under capitalized + Marty Sunshine's job going away = HOLY COW! THERE IS NO SAFETY NET IF WE GET HIT WITH ANOTHER SET OF DEADBEATS LIKE WE DID LAST SUMMER.

Mr. Partner catching on was a relief. I didn't have to spell out the possible disaster scenarios to him. I had already gone through these things in my head a dozen times. I didn't want to vocalize them and have Mr. Partner add possible disaster scenarios I hadn't thought of.

The other highlight of our drama was when the company Marty works for offered him a job in Seattle. The one in Washington.

Just so you know, Seattle is MUCH farther from Alabama than Arizona is. Not only would we have the run-of-the mill annoyances that come with moving, we would have the added business related annoyances--like figuring out how to transfer my corporation to another state, changing the PO Box and the fact there are no banks in Seattle that are also located in Birmingham. So, even though Seattle sounds green and a lot cooler in the summer than it is here, it wasn't our first choice.

But, Marty never wavered. He was positive and upbeat. So it wasn't a surprise to him when he got offered another position with his company. This one in Mesa Arizona. We don't have to move. We don't have to uproot our lives. For the next year or so, we are staying put.

A Quick Tip

In the recent months, I added the following clause to my lease:

Any evidence of the manufacturing or sale of illegal substances on the premises or any arrest and conviction related to the manufacturing or sale of illegal substances will result in immediate termination of this lease. The tenant will be held financially responsible for the abatement and any legal costs related to the abatement of the property if illegal substances are found on the premises.

If you are a landlord, I recomend adding this to your lease. Meth labs are bad news. Cover your assets folks.

Stop the Madness

I am not exaggerating when I say Ms. Betty calls, or now e-mails, at least once a week (if I am lucky only once a week). There are a lot of annoying things that happen on a weekly basis. She is the most consistent of the annoying things.

Sometimes she isn't annoying. Sometimes she has legitimate issues. Like needing my address AGAIN today. Or the fact the dishwasher is leaking all over the floor. I can see those items as legit.

In the event you ever think you might want to rent to Ms. Betty, let me give you a snippet of a conversation a couple of months ago:

Ms. Betty: We need to get an electrician out here. The outlet in the bedroom doesn't work.
Me: What's wrong with it?
Ms. B: There is no electricity getting to the lamp.
Me: Have you replaced the bulb in the lamp?
Ms. B: No ma'am. I am sure it is the outlet.
Me: Could you try the bulb anyway just to be sure.
Ms. B: Yes ma'am. Hold on for a moment.
Me: Waiting... Humming to myself and wondering how much money I am spending on cell minutes
Ms. B: (returning to the phone hours later) Well, it looks like it was the bulb after all.

Her e-mail today gave me a chance to let her know that I may not make it to the bank in a timely manner next week, so it might be best to send a money order. She didn't rip my head off for that. Instead she took the liberty to tell me she priced stainless steel high end dishwashers for me. How nice. I was thinking more along the lines of something in the Amana/Kenmore variety. White.

The Real Lessons from Fergie

I have two tenants right now who are teetering. To them, their situations are unique. But, really they aren't. I have seen both types of tenants fail before. And, I have seen both types succeed. Right now, with rent coming in and both being (more or less) upfront with me, I would put them closer to the succeed category. But not by much. All I really want is for them to pay or for them to voluntarily move out and clean up when they go. Either is fine by me.

I should clarify. I have other tenants who are also struggling, but they don't make it my problem.

Both of these people didn't start out teetering. Circumstances changed while they were living under my roof. Because they are my only two troublemakers, I take this as a positive sign that I am getting better at picking tenants.

There are people like Fergie, like Wayward, like the Good Pastor who have helped me along the way. They have made it possible for me to hone my tenant screening process. They have made it possible for me to continually perfect my ideal of what a good tenant looks like. I am sure there will be others who challenge my good tenant ideal, but I am getting much better at weeding the garden.

Through these experiences I have learned to set standards. I do not discriminate on any of the Federal Fair Housing protected classes. I do not know what color, religion or ethnicity my tenants are. Nobody is every going to be able to say I didn't rent to them because they were black, Hispanic or had purple polka-dots on their skin. I just don't know what these folks look like. And, I don't care.

I now have written standards that I use for screening. I look at debt ratios. If you bring home $2500 a month and are currently paying out more than 55 percent of that, you won't be renting to me. Your bills are too high. The likelihood you will be calling me one month telling me rent is late because you had to buy pencils is pretty high.

I look at what you have done to former landlords. If your credit is stellar but you have burned a landlord, you will never rent from me. Ever. This is something I started looking at in the past couple of years. If I had done this sooner, Wayward never would have rented from me. She had three evictions prior to mine. Now she has a monetary judgement against her and her wages are being garnished. I don't feel the least bit sad about this. I do call past landlords. With my most recent tenant, I called all of her past landlords. One said he was impressed at how thorough I was. I explained my logic. He told me he would start calling too. We landlords have to stick together.

I look at their history of paying. I do this by checking credit. A monetary judgement doesn't scare me. One of my best tenants right now has a monetary judgement from a hospital against her for a car accident several years earlier. She is paying it. That's why she is renting.

Of course things happen to put one in this situation. And, yes, I do take into consideration life events that change and cause great strife. I do understand people die, there are divorces and there are job losses. I get that. I have always been sympathetic to this. I am not talking about those folks.

I am talking about the ones who don't have realistic expecations about paying their bills. What I don't like to see is lots of monetary judgements for little things. If you have judgements against you from the cellphone company, the power company and the credit card company, you probably are going to struggle to pay the rent. And, you are telling me your credit score and personal integrity aren't that important to you. You are also telling me I can expect you not to leave if you can't pay your way. I have enough drama in my life right now, thankyouverymuch.

The Fergie Subtext

It isn't that I am self righteous about money. I am just naive. If someone tells me they have to make a decision between a package of pencils or their rent, I take this literally.

It wasn't until very recently I understood what all of my tenants who gave me these kinds of excuses really were saying. These folks didn't want to come out and say, they just didn't have the rent money. But that was the gist.

Now I understand. When they called me with lame excuses, I would make unhelpful suggestions. "Couldn't your kids just use an old pencil or buy one pencil for a quarter from the school's librarian?" I really thought I was being helpful. After all, if they could get this little dilemma resolved, I would have my rent money and all of us would be happy.

If I searched the Internet, I would probably find somewhere a handy guide on how to dodge the landlord when the rent is due. Perhaps there is even a blog such as this one, covering this particular topic.

However, assuming that all of the tenants of the world in Fergie's situation world aren't in cahoots, I think there is a certain amount of predictable human behavior that goes along with being in a situation where you can't pay your rent. Tenants who are short tend to over promise and under deliver. Once they have used that ploy up (because if they follow through, they can use it again), they start avoiding the landlord. I believe the thinking goes like this, if I don't answer the door/phone/telepathic signals, the landlord will just forget all about me. It isn't a character flaw. These tenants just don't feel they have any other recourse.

Most of the ones who struggle are just trying to work their way out of the hole they have dug. Generally they are optimistic--and borderline unrealistic--about their chances. Instead of just cutting their losses, they stay. It is easier to stay and work something out with the landlord than to uproot their family and scrape together new rental and utility deposits.

These particular folks aren't deadbeats in my book until they stop trying and start living in my home for free. The transition happens once the mindset becomes "landlord must be rich and I am going to stay here until the sheriff comes and kicks me out" game. Those folks are the deadbeats.

The Fergie Basics

Fergie was my second bad tenant. The first only lasted two months and I don't remember her being annoying. Even as green as Marty and I were, neither of us expected our first tenant to last. Fortunately, she didn't.

Fergie, however, was a trip. As it was inconceivable to me how someone could put school supplies over a place for their children, I just did not get her. Now of course, I understand better. What she was really saying was she put all her other bills and expenses--including pencils--in front of her ability to pay rent. Essentially, there was a lot of month left over after her pay check.

I am glad Fergie was an Arizona tenant, because I think I would have gone over the emotional edge if this were my first true experience with a bad tenant and I was remote. Bad tenants eat up more of my emotional energy. They require more handholding. More prodding. More phone calls. Essentially, bad tenants really suck. But because Fergie was local, it was easier to get in touch with her. The times I showed up on her doorstep were a shock. It isn't as easy to waltz over to Mr. Richard's house from here and bang on his door.

I learned a lot from Fergie. I learned never to allow a tenant access to my bank account. For example, because Fergie lived about 30 miles away, I thought it would be easier if Fergie could directly deposit her rent money into my bank account once a month than me wait for her to mail the check. We banked at the same place, how much of a pain could this be? Fergie, who understood the system better than I, realized if she put in a portion of her rent payment into my bank account, that was the same as me accepting a partial rent payment.

A quick word to the wise: according to Legal Eagle and the Arizona Landlord Tenant Act, if a landlord deposits a partial payment from a tenant, it is the landlord agreeing to a reduced rent. Essentially, all bets are off. The tenant gets to stay another month.

So, if Fergie was short, she would put in half the rent money into my bank account and then call me at some obscure hour when she knew she would get my voice mail to tell me the rest was coming in two weeks. If it didn't come, there wasn't much I could do about it. In truth, it always came. Fortunately, Fergie was good about that. But, her methods had me over a barrel. Obviously in hind-sight I should have closed the account and stopped this.

I also learned a lot about tenant law. At one point, Fergie left me a voice mail (at the aforementioned obscure hour), telling me she was giving me 30 days notice she was leaving. She informed me she was expecting her deposits back.

After frantically looking up landlord-tenant law, I was able to explain to Fergie that she was in a lease. Therefore, she was obligated to fulfill the terms of the lease and would owe me the rent money if she moved out. She also would not get her deposits back if she broke the lease. Fergie called back at a reasonable hour and threatened to sue me if I didn't let her out of her lease. Of course her lawsuit had no grounds.

Let's have a moment down memory lane, shall we? Awe... Fergie was my first tenant who threatened to sue me. In case it matters, Ms. Betty, upset about her rent check not being cashed as soon as she would like, is the latest person to threaten to sue me. At any rate, I learned a valuable lesson about crazy deadbeat tenants. They threaten to sue. A lot. However, crazy tenants are generally in the wrong and have no money. Fergie was the only tenant I ever took this seriously from. And then only for about an hour.

I learned sometimes it is better just to let go. I eventually did let Fergie out of her lease. I had had enough. The games were getting old. And, I knew the house was worth a lot more than I paid for it. I wanted to sell.

Fergie ended up moving down the street. The landlord called to check out Fergie. I breathed a sigh of releif when the only thing the guy asked was did she leave the house clean. Yes! Yes she did. Three weeks later the new landlord called back to ask if Fergie was a flake. Yes. Yes she is. I remember him saying, "I guess I should have asked that before." Yes! Yes he should have.

Fergie

Fergie was actually one of my early tenants, brought to me through a friend of a friend of my tenant in my first rental home. This was the first home we bought with Vance. Her home, a newish four bedroom stuccoed drab beige home with a pink roof, was in a-then up and coming section of Phoenix, where she wanted to live to be near family and friends.

At the time I hooked up with Fergie, I didn't recognize the signs of a bad renter. I can honestly say, if Fergie and I crossed paths today, I wouldn't need her application to know she would be trouble. Now, I realize warning signs were bright enough to land a 747 on a foggy night.

Fergie was a single mother who wanted the best for her and her children. An opportunity came along for her to live in a home that was in her means--if she budgeted accordingly--and she took it.

I should say, Fergie really tried. That is, tried to keep the roof over her head and more to the point, tried my patience. The real issue was Fergie's lifestyle were much higher than her monthly income. I suspect there are many people I run across who fall into this category. I can spot them better now than I could then.

From about month three, Fergie would call every month some new crisis that would make the rent late. It was always something that, if she had put a roof for her children first in her priorities, would have kept her as a thorn in my side much longer.

My favorite excuse for why her rent was going to be late was when she called me to tell me she was short because she had to buy school supplies for her kids. “What school supplies do you need?” I had asked. Pencils. She replied. A pack of pencils didn’t cost a month’s rent, I pointed out.

Eventually, I let Fergie out of her lease. It saved me a lot of grief later on. And, it probably saved her a lot of heartache too. One of the really great things about her was she left me a clean house. And, it was the one Vance and I turned around with a great profit. That profit gave me other homes in Alabama. So, not only did I learn a considerable amount about property management from Fergie, I also was able to expand my business.

Just for the Record

I had never been to Birmingham Alabama until after I purchased several rental homes there. (Someone recently asked).

A Happy Buckaroo

You might remember the story of my Buckaroo using his birthday money to make a bear for the orphaned child in Mrs. 508's custody?

Well, Mrs. 508 sent a card to my Buckaroo thanking him for the bear. Much to Buckaroo's delight, the card plays the Hamster Dance. Over. And Over.

And, as expected, Buckaroo happens to LOVE this card. He brings it with him everywhere. Although we have drawn the line at being forced to listen to it while trapped in the car.

Yesterday, I called Mrs. 508 and left a message thanking her for the card and the pictures of this cute little boy (yes, she sent pictures). I then played the card for her to share the love. I let her know if I found a drum set, I would be inclined to send it her way.

A Minor "Misunderstanding"

I seriously don't know which one of my tenants is the most maddening right now. Although Ms. Betty seems to have calmed down, she has left a lasting impression. Every call this week has given me reason to cringe (and I have talked to her twice since Monday. This woman so needs a life).

There is Mrs. Martin. Yes, that one. But she is for another day. I am just not in the mood today.

Then there is Mr. Richards. If he didn't amuse me so much I probably would be screaming at him right about now. You see, it was a psychic premonition that got Mr. Richards to call Wednesday. At the time of his voice mail, he hadn't heard from Red. Apparently Mr. Richards just had an urge to call. I guess he just figured it was high time he got back in touch with me.

I know this timeline to be correct because Red called me Thursday morning to tell me when Mr. Richards was served. Late Wednesday night. But, back to Mr. Richards.

As you may recall, Mr. Richards offered me a super deal that went like this, "I will gladly pay you on March 20th for a place to live today." My voice mail response was something akin to I am not stupid enough to fall for this. Yes, I used the word stupid.

Mr. Richards has since left two voice mails, telling me I "misunderstood" his message. He tells me he didn't say March 20. He said March 6. Silly me.

Just so you know, I kept the voice mail. I replayed it just to make sure I wasn't crazy. March 20 sounds nothing like March 6--even with his thick Southern drawl.

He also repeatedly told me he didn't think I was stupid enough to wait for March 20 for rent. Gee, it is all a misunderstanding, and if I would pretty please call him back he would like to make this right. He also gave me a long-winded action plan. I am getting he really doesn't want to move.

I haven't called him back just yet. I will. But let him stew a bit longer.

The Clueless Mr. Richards

During lunch yesterday, I gave Mr. Partner a quick update on Mr. Richards. Essentially, I told Mr. Partner I would rather he limped along than pay Legal Eagle's son his next semester at Harvard (the boy is 7--but by the time we are done paying he won't be).

Anyway, Mr. Partner agreed. Let him limp if he is truly committed to staying, but at the first sign of trouble feel free to kick him out. Essentially, it is my call.

As a side note I have to tell you, this is a far cry from the alpha-landlord slap fights of the past. I am sorry I didn't get this particular directive in writing from Mr. Partner. But, no matter.

At the same time we were discussing him, Mr. Richards must have sensed something because he managed to leave a message to me right as I was digging into my pizza. I guess that means Red found him.

In his message, Mr. Richards asked me if I would "work with" him. And, if so, would I be willing to wait until March 20 for his rent. Um... No.

I would be happy to work with Mr. Richards. But, I am not willing to be stupid about it. And, I believe I used those exact words when I called him back. Mr. Partner got a kick out of Mr. Richard's message too, knowing full well, Mr. Richards had just crossed the line from reasonable to trouble.

What I did tell Mr. Richards when I called back and got his voice mail was that if he sent me a payment in the next few days I would call off the eviction. I didn't tell him what would happen if he didn't sent me a payment in the next 10 days, but I am guessing he isn't that clueless.

The Southern Serving Process

I have four process servers. I bet none of my readers have ANY process servers in their life (with maybe the exception of Legal Eagle--who really isn't a reader except when I tell her I wrote about her or need her legal advice about a posting).

There was a time when I would have laughed at the person who, thinking them somewhat pretentious, had four process server phone numbers stored in their address book. Not any more. Now I would probably just greet that person with an all encompassed nod and sympathetic pat on the shoulder, fully understanding the gravity of their situation.

Oh wait? You wonder exactly what a process server does? Well, they are the guys you see on TV who hand an envelope (the summons is always an envelope on TV) to some drug thug or soon to be divorced dad with a snide comment saying, "see you in court."

Of course, in real life it is not that way. Generally it just someone paid to hand the summons to the deadbeat tenant. If necessary, that person must be willing to get dressed up and go to court saying, "yes, I gave him that piece of paper" or "yes, I left that piece of paper on her door and here is the photo of it, Your Honor."

In Alabama, all you need to serve someone is to actually identify the person and drop the note at their feet. Or, if they won't come to the door (because, in my case, they are hiding from me and other potential bill collectors), they can post the notice on the door of the deadbeat and take a photo of the notice. A process server's word goes pretty far with a judge over a deadbeat's word.

One of the reasons I have so many process servers is because all of them are located in the South. Things don't happen according to the Roman calendar in the South. So, I need to plan my process serving missions strategically.

Process Server 1: Mr. H. Doesn't own a calendar. Technology challenged (even more than yours truly. Hey! At least I know how to blog). Doesn't own a fax machine or a printer. In order to get him a termination notice, I have to send it by Fed Ex or the US Mail. So, if I want to evict someone on Tuesday, I better send him what he needs the previous Thursday and hope he is in town on Tuesday.

Process Server 2: Red. Doesn't own a calendar. According to Red, he was in a motorcycle accident six weeks ago where he hit a deer on the interstate. He is now limping around on crutches. Hopefully by Thursday he tells me he should be in a walking cast.

And, poor Red isn't driving much lately either. Last week I sent him a notice for Mr. Richards. It is now Wednesday and I am still waiting. Part of this reason I am still waiting is because Red was readmitted into the hospital this past weekend with a punctured lung (another byproduct of his poor motorcycle demise). He was sweet enough to joke that he was sorry he wasn't admitted to the hospital Mr. Richards worked at. Personally, I thought it would have been efficient.

Process Server 3: Carolsue. Yes, Carolsue, the Jill of all trades isn't afraid to slap a summons on some deadbeat's door and tell them to get their stuff and move the hell off my property. She might say it exactly like that, only adding "bless your heart" at the end. I know she owns a calendar. I gave her one when I was in Alabama last November.

Last week Carolsue moved across the street (I mean this literally) from Mr. Richards. It would have been perfect for her to serve him. However, she had no phone or e-mail. My smoke signal device wasn't working either. So, I called Red. Who still hasn't done it. However, I have another one for her to take care of, but that is for another post (stay tuned).

Process Server 4: I keep this one in my back pocket--Baseball Guy. Though I have a phone number and an e-mail address for him, the easiest way to get in touch with him is through Carolsue (which is the same way I get in touch with Andy, my convicted murderer lawn guy). So, if she isn't available, she can subcontract to him.

At any rate, my deadbeats get served. But only in due time.

A Proud, Card-Carrying Member of Techo Dorks Anonymous

Marty Sunshine tells me he is an enterprise-level applications developer. Whatever that means. Just in case you know someone who is hiring for this kind of thing, he's available. To me, he is my lovable computer geek.

It is a good thing I have him, because I can't even install a simple print driver. And, I am not sure what that means either.

My incompetence in all things electronic seems to have few limits. The cell phone I got in December is way too complicated for me. It has a camera (phones have cameras!?) and now I have pictures on there I can't seem to transmit to the computer. I think I need to download a magic wand to activate it.

I only bring this up because it would be darn useful to be able to fax things to Bliz. Or, it would even be more useful if I could scan bills and send them to her. Sadly, something that sounds so simple to you, the casual reader, isn't so for me. I can manually hunt down tenants forever, just don't ask me to tell you about any electronic gadget that has the word "wireless" in it.

It isn't that I am afraid of technology. I just don't understand it. Nor do I really wish to invest six months of my life reading gobbledy gook that essentially boils down to one quick statement: "Marty, why is that thingy over there blinking?"

The Broken Panic Button

This past week, Mr. Partner finally realized the things I have been panicking about for months are legitimate. In a way, it was a relief that he was oblivious to the Summer 2008 Alabama Business Meltdown. It made last summer more bearable knowing I didn't have to have alpha-landlord slap fights with Mr. Partner. However, it would have been nice if he had been slightly cognizant to the after-effects--like our serious depletion of capital.

It isn't that I haven't been jumping up and down suggesting that we have some changes to make. Because, let me assure you, I have. And, it hasn't been just me preaching this. I distinctly remember Marty Sunshine sitting down with Mr. Partner last October and telling him: we needed a Plan B if the economy continued heading where it was heading.

Lo and behold! The economy is on that downhill run Marty predicted. Of course, there is the added bonus that Marty also lost his job, making us even more vulnerable.

Sitting tight and waiting it out is an option in times like this. However, before we sit back and reap the benefits (or spoils) of our labor, we really need to get everyone on board with the right assessment of what to do. NOW is the time for the Alpha-Landlord slap fight. And, I am ok if I sit on the sidelines for this one. Let someone else figure this out.

On Thursday, Mr. Partner sent me some information on what the pundents are predicting will be the short and long term affects of our economy and the stimulus plan. Mr. Partner (all 6' 5" of him) even told me he is "scared."

That's all well and good, but "scared" was months ago. Now it is time for action. We have some big-time decisions to make. Our success depends upon it.