Changes

It was too easy. That's what I told myself today as I left my now-former broker's office. After 10+ years with the same company (the ones with the gold sport coats), I decided to go hang my license with a smaller brokerage.

The decision wasn't spontaneous. I had been thinking about it for some time. And, when I decided this is what I wanted to do, the particular company I am now working for was not high on my list. The broker--who now happens to be my new boss--got into the business at the same time I did. A former used car salesman, he was my mentor the first year I was in the biz. Over the course of time he got his broker's license. He bought a property management company and that is now what he is doing. Just like Kirby and Mario.

When I told my now-former broker I was leaving. She didn't react the way I expected her to, though I am not sure what I expected really. Crying and hysterics? A fist-pump along with a good riddance? I didn't expect she would take it so... so.. well.

At the very least, I expected her to tell me that being affiliated with a national company was worth something. Here's a hint for those of you who aren't in the know: the national company doesn't do a thing for agents. Agents still have to find their own leads. They still have to pay for their own advertising. All agents--no matter what size company they are affiliated with--have access to the same web sites, multiple listing information and the like. The difference is if one is affiliated with a national name, they pay more in fees.

And, in case it matters, if you need the services of a quality agent, the best place to look is one of those mom and pop companies. Why? Because no broker of a small company is going to hire a part-time or green agent. The liability is too great. The small boutique brokerages pay more for better agents because those agents don't have to be trained and there is a smaller chance of a lawsuit. When I negotiated my new pay structure I threw that at my new broker and he agreed--which will help my bottom line. But it is true. The new agents go to the mega-companies because the smaller brokerages won't take the risk.

But I digress...

When I told my now-former broker where I was going (something I was dreading her asking--given this was her top agent who left years ago and I am told by my sources there was some bad blood at the time) she said she had never heard of my new company. I figured it would take her about three nano-seconds after I walked out the door for it to dawn on her. Then she would either hate me or ask me to come back with a better offer.

For the record, she came back with a better offer. But money isn't the only reason I am moving on. And also for the record, it really is unproductive to entice someone to come back by throwing more money at them. If they want to leave, they will do it anyway--either now or later. And by keeping them just a teensy bit longer, all you have done is buy their loyalty for the short-term. This is true in business and in rental homes. Let them go.

The irony of it all is that I am working for a company that pretty much mirrors Kirby's brokerage. Both companies have about the same number of homes. This new company has a Kirby, a Daisy and an Opal. And now they have a me. I am excited. I am still a sales agent. And I won't be doing leasing exclusively (because my opinion of leasing homes hasn't changed). However, in the short-term, this is part of the deal. Which is fine given my under-capitalized issues being what they are and all. In the six hours I have been with my new company, I have already leased a home. I can't complain.The decision was right. It was time.

Modern Technology

Last week during my marathon real estate days, I talked to Daisy and explained that I wasn't going to be near a computer for a good long while and please text me if she needed anything.

Ten minutes later she did. I replied with, "It was actually a trap. Now I have your cell number."

Daisy, who instantly realized it was not a good scenario for a landlord to have her private cell number (I didn't actually expect she would text me), probably swore up and down and then wrote me back with a few other choice words.

At any rate, now Daisy texts me things like, "The house in Moody is rented." And I am happy.

I can also ask her about the house in Centerpoint and the house in Chalkville.  I did notice when I asked about these two properties today she somehow didn't feel the need to get back to me right away. That's ok. Because I have Kirby's cell number too.

One Down, Two to Go

Today was the second day in a row I have left my home at 7 a.m. in search of remedying our undercapitalized issues. However today I did not make it home until 7:30 p.m. At one point, I jotted over to my office to check my e-mail. In it was a lovely note from Daisy. She had rented my home if I was willing to take "those folks."

Though I greatly appreciated her e-mail, I had no idea which home or who "those folks" happen to be. When I called her I got a better scope of the situation. It turns out Daisy is sick and shouldn't be at work, let alone writing e-mails to desperate landlords. However, I am glad she did. I like reading the words, "rented."

The house in question happens to be the one in Moody. She told me it was a nice couple with ties to the area. I froze in terror. Two of the last three sets of tenants were also "nice" with ties to the area. I quickly made sure we weren't looking at Mr. Smith moving back in (as a refresher, you may recall the unemployed Mr. Smith lives across the street with his wife, his 49 offspring and his ultra-proud father-in-law--who is supporting his daughter, her children and her dead-beat husband).

I also sweetly inquired if half of the "nice couple" Daisy mentioned happened to include Ms. Kathy, the other deadbeat former tenant whose sister happens to live next door. Before she answered me, she let out a string of Dayquil-induced profanities, indicating this house had a lot of hidden baggage and either she did not need to know this, or perhaps it was best I told her prior to her showing it to the "nice couple."

And then, still not answering my question, she put the phone down and I heard her say, "Hey Kirby, did you know about the house in Moody and the former tenants who live next door and across the street?" I am guessing based on her next litany of cuss words, she found out Kirby did know. At any rate, it doesn't appear the "nice couple" includes Ms. Kathy either. That's a relief.

The couple in question have been approved by me and are moving in this weekend. The home was vacant for less than a month.

For those of you counting, that is one down, and two to go. 

On a Brighter Note

It turns out the folks in Fultondale decided they don't want to be evicted and have straightened out at least for now. I can handle "for now."

I don't know all the details to why Kirby and Daisy felt they needed to be evicted. But that is fine. I don't need that added stress.

The Tale Of The Two Text Messengers

Yesterday I sent Ms. Angie a text that basically said, "Let me know rent is coming on time and for the love of all that is good and just you aren't in jail again." Ok, I only sent the first clause, but the second part of that sentence was implied.

And then I heard nothing.

This morning I sent a text saying, "I didn't hear from you yesterday and that is not a good sign. I am not in the mood for surprises. Please tell me rent will be on time." And yes, I sent that one in its entirety.

To her credit, Ms. Angie did reply. Apparently she is not in jail. She let me know rent was coming. On time.

Mrs. Sherwood also sent me a text today telling me she wants to collect on the offer I made with her months earlier when our accidental business looked a bit brighter. She wants new flooring in the kitchen. I had agreed to pay half of the new flooring costs.

I certainly can't blame her for wanting this change. Her current kitchen flooring is from another era. And it is rather ugly yellow and brown patterned carpet that has no business in the kitchen. Even casino carpeting is more attractive.

Mrs. Sherwood has also been in my home since 2007 and doesn't seem to be interested in leaving any time soon. That's a good thing, because I will take a $300 rent reduction if I have to lease this place out again. Besides, she takes great care of the house. I am happy to hold up my end of the bargain once I get rid of these crazy vacancies.

Request

Daisy, Kirby's assistant, sent me an e-mail today telling me that she has showings lined up for all three vacancies. It doesn't mean they are rented, but just that people are interested. She ended her e-mail to me with the following: "Pray!"

I have to tell you, I pray every day. Lately I have added prayers that these homes will be rented with quality folks. If you are the praying type, I am asking for help. Please pray with me.

Thanks.

Cutting Kirby Some Slack

As you may recall, I would rather give birth to 20 pound triplets without any form of pain relief than work rentals. But, to give you an idea of how desperate undercapitalized we are at the moment, I called my buddies at not one, but two, property management companies begging to work rentals for them this weekend. In both cases, I was happily given a litany of homes from both agencies and I promptly put them on craigslist.

It is now Saturday around 3:30 and yet the phone hasn't rung even once. No e-mails from a crazy person asking if they and their 47 live wildebeests can rent a home in some posh Scottsdale neighborhood. And will the landlord take a $1,500 a month rent reduction? And--in case it comes up--Mr. Wildebeest just happens to be a convicted serial ax murderer with a 506 FICO score. Will that be an issue?

I am guessing if the rental market is this quiet in the US's fifth largest metropolitan area, Birmingham can't be any better. But I am hoping it is. 

Moody

It appears we won't be refinancing the home in Moody. Though we would have a lower interest rate, the difference in payment is negligible.

If it matters, I am cranky.

Nobody Has To Read This

It is an understatement to say October, 2013 has been one of my toughest. I don't wish to whine about my personal life. But come on, 2013 as a whole has kind of sucked. It isn't just the Alabama accidental business either. But I have to tell you, that alone is playing a larger than necessary role in my already totally crappy October.

There was a time a few years back when we were faced with tough times in our accidental business and I would actively look for solutions. Then we used up those solutions. Then other tough times happened and we managed to endure. Then things went well for a very long stretch. In fact I even thought--dare I say it--the worst was over.

Then we had a vacant home that will never be rented. Then Ms. Angie went to jail twice. Then we had a tenant skip out. Then Mrs. Green needed to move. And then this past week Daisy, Kirby's assistant, sent me an email yesterday saying the people in Fultondale need to be evicted. NOW.

The house in Fultondale happens to be one of the three Marty Sunshine and I own without a partner. So for those of you keeping track: we have the one in Grayson Valley that Jack bailed on us, the vacant one that Mrs. Green lived in (and is currently vacant) and the one in Fultondale.

In the past three weeks (on top of the utterly other rotten things going on) Marty and I have done some serious financial maneuvering to figure out if we can hold on. We changed our personal budget to accommodate our issues over there, including dropping a lot of extras in our lives and changing Marty's retirement holdings. We are looking at refinancing a couple of homes--which never goes well, given banks don't to like to refinance for landlords who have more than four properties. So, I am not certain we will be refinancing.

I don't have the money to pay the property taxes. Nor do I have the money to pay November's mortgages if Ms. Angie goes to jail again. If Kirby doesn't get these places rented, I will definitely not have December's mortgage money either. That's a big concern. It used to be this made me anxious. Now I am just embittered.

Yesterday Kirby gave me numbers for potential outcomes if I sell the home in Moody. It is doable--if indeed anyone will quickly buy the home. It doesn't do me well to let the property sit vacant for four months waiting for a buyer. So, we are looking into that. It is also one of the homes Marty is speaking with the bank about refinancing.

Marty Sunshine tells me this blog post is "incredibly negative." What if it is? This is where I'm at right now. It ain't pretty, but it is the best I can do.

Public Service Announcement

For the love of all things, if you want to rent a home be sure you clean up your social media accounts. Landlords don't like finding XXX Twitter sites for potential tenants. Just saying...

The Way To An Attorney's Heart

When one can't pay the mortgages, one certainly can't pay the attorney who handled a small administrative matter. So, I have been sorta sitting by, letting Attorney Flip's extra-large bill gather dust. Once in a while I will look at it, groan and then shove it out of sight only to repeat the process a week or so later.

Fortunately (for Flip), Mr. Partner brought in an infuse of cash that he owed recently. The mortgages are covered and we have enough left over to give Attorney Flip a nugget or two. In preparation for this monumental event, and because I got another "past due" bill from him today, I sent him an e-mail telling him I was making a payment. I thanked him for his patience.

In a strange turn, Attorney Flip--the same man who would not return my e-mails and phone calls for the past year--actually responded in about 10 minutes flat with a "no problem, hope all is well," e-mail.

If you are counting, that is two times in the past year I have heard from him. Perhaps a new record.

You've Now Read It All

So Ms. Angie went to jail again. For those of you keeping track, that was twice in 30 days. I would raise a skeptical eyebrow and say, "uh huh" but it really wouldn't change the realities here.

What I do know is that Ms. Angie's September rent hasn't shown up. I did receive most of August's rent (late) and I have no reason not to believe her. Let's face it, Ms. Angie (nor anyone else) has ever used the excuse, "I was in jail and I needed the rent money to bail me out." Twice. Ever. And I promise you, I have heard some very interesting excuses.

I find her story somewhat plausible because both times this happened in Leeds. And, as a matter of interest, I almost got arrested in Leeds once for taking a picture on the public sidewalk. I was told later by someone (Jack I think, but it might have been Carolsue) that if I hadn't been white I probably would have been arrested. Now, I am not saying Leeds is a bigoted backwater 1940s, Southern town, but let the inferences land where they may.

And as another matter of interest, it would be best not to have an African American rent the home I have in Leeds (if it were available). That is, if an African American actually wanted to rent my home in Leeds. So far no one has jumped at that opportunity. But I digress...

Anyway, Ms. Angie was arrested again on (what she tells me) an outstanding traffic warrant. I told her to please stay out of Leeds. Leeds doesn't like her. And, because I currently have two vacancies in this particular LLC and if I were to let her go I would take an immediate reduction in rent--barring I got the place rented prior to January--I am working with her again this month. Besides, other than the last two months, she has been a really good tenant.

When I spoke with her today I made her cry. I think if I had gotten angry and nasty, she would have felt better. But I was already weary with this week's drama on actually paying the mortgages. So, I wasn't up to yelling at her.

I believe in my heart this will be straightened up. She will pay off her debt to me (I expect to see some money in a week or so). In the mean time, it would be best if Ms. Angie just stayed out of jail.

I Should Open a Thrift Store

I don't really understand this. And before I became a landlord I wouldn't have believed it. But my first tenant in Phoenix did this. I thought it was just her. Now I realize it happens often. Tenants just leave their stuff behind. It used to blow me away. Now I just accept it.

But really, if you could cart it into your home, why can't you cart it out of your home? And for that matter, if you didn't want it when you moved out, why did you want it when you moved in? 

The Rest of the Story

In addition to the two vacancies with the LLC with Mr. Partner, I asked Mr. and Mrs. Green to move this past summer. They finally left last month. So, though Mr. Partner has two vacancies, Marty Sunshine and I have three.

A quick background on the Greens. I loved them. I adored them. They would actually Fed Ex me the rent if it was a day late. They were my tenants for five years. Then Mrs. Green lost her job with no notice this past New Year's Day. I let her limp along for a month or two, with the idea that I would look them in the eye during my trip last spring and ask them to leave.

Except within that LLC I had another vacancy that needed a lot of time and attention. This particular LLC does ok with one vacant home, but two empty houses is a bit out of my budget. And the house in question was "managed" by my former-partner Jack. Jack neglected to mention the house needed flooring, roof repair, a hot water heater and significant outdoor drainage reconstruction when he begged out, leaving these issues for Marty and I to fend for ourselves. So essentially when I got to Birmingham, Mr. and Mrs. Green won the landlord lottery.

I believe in my heart the Greens were trying as hard as they could to make things right in their life. I also believe she didn't want to move. She would tell me about job interviews. I knew she was borrowing money from her son who is stationed somewhere where he is eligible for combat pay--and this was even with the reduction in rent. Somewhere around July, I did ask them to leave. I told her if she stayed current and kept the place clean, I would refund her security deposit.

Mrs. Green didn't leave until the second week of September and by then she was in for two month's of rent. So, the security deposit is mine. She also left the place clean except she left half of her worldly possessions behind, leaving Kirby to figure out where to donate them.

 Right now I am juggling these three vacancies, and wondering what needs to happen. I know I have done this before, but all I remember is the stress, not the solutions. At this moment, I have no answers.

Welcome Back to 2008

I'm Not Falling Apart, is the name of a fun little ditty by Maroon 5. And it pretty much sums up my day.

I would like to tell you that all is hunky dory in my accidental business, but we ended up with some hiccups last month when it came to mortgage payments. And, for the first time in 10 years we bounced some payments. Like a lot of payments.

A lot.

Some of this had to do with Ms. Angie going to jail. But most of it had to do with Kirby billing me for a ton of repairs he had done on our properties and not telling me upfront he was going to do that. And, when I found out this happened--two days after the first NSF--he sheepishly informed me that most of the repairs were completed, except for a teensy one that would show up in September's statement that needed to happen in our Section 8 house so that we could get the rent. And by the way, that was only $1500.

So, already being under-capitalized and having a vacant home in the LLC we have with Mr. Partner, we ran into some struggles in September. And then I had enough NSFs to balance the National Debt to round out that stretch of 30 days. But that was last month. 

Except now we are in October. And the work on the Section 8 home needed to be paid. And apparently my tenants in Moody, after making a huge stink about me replacing the bathroom floor--which I did--snuck out in the middle of the night and haven't left a forwarding address. I found this little gem out about four hours ago.

When I did the calculations, it looks like we are going to be short again this month. Mr. Partner has been informed of this. I don't know if he cares right now. He might care October 16 when mortgages are officially late.

I lived through this type of drama once before and it took its toll on my health, well-being and sanity. I am not in the mood for it again. And Marty Sunshine is certainly not in the mood for me to fall apart.

Farewell to a Dear Friend

I had breakfast with Diamond Jim today. Actually Polly, Buckaroo and I met Diamond Jim for breakfast.

I didn't know it last night, but Buckaroo went to bed fully dressed, including his sneakers and got up at 5:30 a.m. announcing he was joining me. Ten minutes later, Polly flounced downstairs (Polly always flounces) and seemed shocked I was not as receptive to the idea as they expected me to be. But no matter, Diamond Jim isn't my own personal accounting buddy. He belongs to the world. So, the kids came too.

Our breakfast was as normal as they all tend to be. If one were to replay all of our breakfasts over the years, this one would be about average. We discussed baseball (Boo Dodgers!). We discussed books. Sigh... We are just going to have to agree to disagree on The Catcher in the Rye--unless somewhere there is a better version written, perhaps about baseball catchers. That book would be much better.

We discussed children, mine and his grandsons, Timmy and Ricky. For that matter we talked about his son and daughter too. But they are my age. He shared a story about flying here one February in the 1980s from sub-zero weather on a propeller plane. All the while I just kept wondering if there was something else we could talk about to keep the conversation going just a little bit longer.

This is Diamond Jim's last tax hurrah. He is boarding a plane in a couple of days and heading to some remote town in Eastern Oregon to retire with Mrs. Diamond Jim. I knew this day was coming, but even so, I was not fully is prepared. I am not sure if he was conscience it was our last breakfast. If he was, he didn't let on.

I know Diamond Jim would probably still do my taxes if I asked. But, he has been a CPA for more than 40 years. He has earned his retirement. In that respect, seems like a bigger kindness to just let him go. 

I noticed when he hugged me and kids at the end of our visit he didn't say good bye. Neither did I. I hope someday I will get a chance to see him again. Maybe before that I will even pick up The Catcher in the Rye and see if it gets any better so I can tell him how much I love the book.

Sit, Roll Over, Stop Calling

I have dear friends who now live in another state and rent out their home here. I have written about them before. Recently, their tenants bailed, leaving them in sudden need of new renters. They have contracted me in my professional capacity to help them find a qualified tenant for their home.

And I am banging my head.

As we all know, there is nothing more desperate in this world than a landlord with a vacant home. The second-most desperate person on Earth is the one who is contracted to find a viable tenant for the landlord. This isn't just a client, it is a friend in need. I don't mind helping them out. I just mind disappointing them or finding the wrong tenants. And in all fairness, they read this blog.

For the past week, I have gotten calls that remind me clearly of why I have Kirby and Mario. The people calling--who really should be making an effort to provide a good first impression--lack basic telephone etiquette. For example, when is it acceptable to leave a message for someone inquiring about anything and not leave one's name? 

When I got these kinds of calls for my own properties, I wouldn't call back out of general principal. If a person is that obnoxious when they want something from me--a chance to view their potential future home--what kind of fresh hell will I be living with if I agree to rent to them? (And in case you want to know, feel free to dig through the annals of this blog.) In this case, I don't have the luxury of ignoring these people. It isn't my decision to make. So, I am calling them back and offering them a second chance to prove they were raised right. However, I am not getting very far. I am getting questions asking such things including how many bedrooms does this home have (it is in the ad they called about), what is the rent (ditto) and is there a pool (yes. THERE IS A PICTURE OF IT IN THE AD)?

My clients have a lovely home. They aren't accepting pets. Frankly, I don't blame them. When I speak to potential tenants I am very careful to explain the owners are not accepting pets. It is also clearly stated in my ad and on MLS. One man actually said to me--and I am not making this up--"But it is a small golden retriever." It really doesn't matter if it is or not, it is still a dog.

Another man said to me that each roommate had a dog and they (the pets) all "got along." For grins, I inquired how many roommates we were talking about here and he said there were six men and nine dogs. 

The home is in a great area and I suspect it will attract a quality family. Hopefully fairly soon. In the mean-time I am saying a prayer all these people with pets stop calling.

She's Alive

Ms. Angie is a dear, dear tenant. And yes, she did get back in touch with me at 5 a.m. Saturday morning. She sent me a text with a wild story that involves the town of Leeds and a guy named, "Your Honor". She also told me on the way home from her unpleasant experience she had a blowout on the interstate.

To Ms. Angie's credit, she has not regaled me with these kinds of antics in the four years she has been my tenant. Which is why I believe her.

However, the subtext is that rent isn't happening. She didn't exactly say this, but that was seriously implied. I haven't written her back just yet. I may wait the weekend and see if she comes up with a solution all on her own. That would be best.

Here's my thoughts: she is a great tenant. She takes care of the house. Even before Kirby's property management cut, I will never (ever) get what I am getting for rent from anyone else if I kick her out. It doesn't make sense to start the move-out process over this. Hopefully Ms. Angie will find a solution so she and I don't have to go meet another guy named Your Honor.

Strangely Silent

Today is the end of the month. I realized this on Thursday, around 11 p.m., after I had just sacrificed an exorbitant amount of cell minutes talking down my seller from the precipice she was on. While on the call, the my client mentioned August was almost over. That reminded me of two of my sisters in laws whose birthdays are both late August. One turned 40 yesterday. The other would have been 39 today if she were still with us. 

Month end also means my mortgages are due. And, wouldn't you know it, all three tenants I personally manage: (Mrs. Sherwood Forest, Ms. Angie and Mrs. Green) had not sent in the rent. At 11 p.m. Thursday night, I found this freakishly alarming and odd and--forgetting my pet peeve about time zones--texted them all immediately inquiring politely about where the hell rent money happened to be.

Actually, I had texted Mrs. Green earlier in the week, asking if she was moving out, and did not receive a response. I sent her the exact same text a second time on Thursday night, which she still hasn't acknowledged. That whole thing is grounds for another blog and I might be motivated to write about this weekend.

Mrs. Sherwood Forest was gracious enough to text me around 10 a.m. her time on Friday. She followed up two minutes later with a phone call and an explanation. Twenty minutes after that she was at the bank. I was never worried about Mrs. Sherwood Forest. In fact, I have never worried about any of these three.

Until now.

Ms. Angie, who has been my wonderful tenant for years and years, has not responded to my first inquiry. Nor did she respond to a second text. This is totally bizarre.

Ms. Angie started calling me years before she ever moved in. She wanted to rent from me in the worst way. Though flattering, I never completely understood this. I don't know where she got my phone number, primarily because I have a hard time understanding her drawl. Over the course of years, she looked at a few of my homes before she decided on the one she is in now.

She has been a loyal tenant for a long time. She is the first tenant to call me when she is going to be a day late (I finally told her she didn't need to do that--now I wish I hadn't). Last month she was slightly short on rent. In the entire time she has rented from me, she has never once been short. Ever. So, I let it slide. I am hoping it isn't a sign of things to come.

I am so flabbergasted by Ms. Angie's silence, that I asked Carolsue if she could swing by this weekend and just make sure Ms Angie is alive. If Carolsue is too busy to go (which may be, I recall something about a trip out of state to a family reunion--or she may just have a life of her own), I may have to go with a process server giving her an eviction notice to get her to respond to me. And that just makes me sad.

I genuinely like Ms. Angie and don't think she is stiffing me on the rent (though I won't rule that out because I have lived it before). I am just hoping she was away for a couple of days of well-earned vacation and she will call me today to tell me something I will probably not understand. Hopefully the gist will be she has the rent.

National Bliz Day

When God was passing out friends, He gave me an extra-special one. Happy Birthday dear Bliz. I would say how long we have been friends, but I don't want to frighten you.

I hope you have a wonderful day. And here's some orange candy for you--your favorite I am sure.