The Joys of Carpet Cleaning

So I am much closer to listing my Birmingham home than I was, say a week ago. According to Kirby, the painter ran out of paint, so they are a bit behind, but the house should be ready to go this week. And by the way, the home needs a good spit-shine, the water leak (news to me) repaired and the carpets cleaned.

In the South, "carpet cleaning" is synonymous with a company that tends to charge too much for someone who is probably on probation and embittered by life. I really don't need employees from these companies knowing how to gain access to my vacant home and have them help themselves to the copper. Or worse, have them move in, throw a wild party or open a meth lab when I am not looking. And because things like this happen--more often than one can imagine--I wasn't too keen on having them responsible for my carpets. Feeling a bit lost on this issue, I asked Kirby for a name of a reliable carpet cleaner and he gave me Marvin. Kirby swears he is the best carpet cleaner I will ever meet.

When I called Marvin, my call went straight to voicemail, where a male voice with a very incomprehensible drawl said something along the lines of: "Hello, this is Marvin, please leave a message." When I mentioned this to Kirby, he replied, "Yea, he is pretty country." Kirby's idea of "country" is my idea of "Southern." But regardless, I left a message.

It turns out Marvin didn't bother to answer, because he never answers if he doesn't recognize the phone number. Nor does he listen to the message left by anyone who calls and leaves a message from a number he doesn't recognize. Kirby told me this also when I called him several hours later to tell him that Marvin the Wonderful hadn't gotten back to me. Personally, that's an interesting way to do business. It doesn't work in the Big City, but perhaps it is a thing in Alabama.

Anyway, Marvin eventually did call me back (after Kirby jostled him). Marvin would love to clean my carpets! Now, again this is probably a Big City thing, but when one is hired to do a job, it is perfectly respectable to stop selling one's services. But not Marvin. As soon as I said "you are hired" Marvin broke into a sales pitch.

You see, Marvin only uses artisan spring water, that is carried by three year old yaks who are yolked with wood from old forests. The water is collected from the mountains of Tibet. Once the water is brought to a small monastery at the base of mountain, the monks then bless the water and distill only the purest of water droplets before having it sent by albatross to Birmingham Alabama for Marvin to use in his carpet cleaning machine.

Marvin then continued to tell me how he personally hand scrubs every fiber in the carpet, when he had to take a quick non-sequitur. He said--and I am not making this up--"I hope you can understand me. My teeth fell out of my mouth and I might sound funny." Personally, I just thought he sounded Southern and I would have preferred to think so for the rest of my life.

It is fair to say everything Marvin said about his carpet cleaning techniques (which went on for a bit longer) from that point forward I didn't hear. I was busy with a visual I just didn't need. My ears did perk up when he finally got around to talking about price. Frankly, he is the least expensive carpet cleaner I have ever met. I am just hoping I understood him correctly.

Yes Ma'am

I have gone through my fair share of Alabama property managers and feel I can unequivocally say I am convinced Luigi's company is the best I currently have to work with. Had Kirby not sold his company and went off to pursue more profitable vocations, I would take that statement back. And to be fair, Luigi's folks haven't been all that wonderful.

My true issue with Luigi's company is that his staff is having a very difficult time figuring out who they work for. I don't wish to belabor this point, but property management companies have one customer: the owners. They find owners renters for their homes. They handle tenant issues. They handle maintenance issues. They do not work for the tenants. It isn't that property management companies don't sympathize with tenants at times (and often curse owners behind their backs), it is that it is truly the owners who are the ones who pay for the services for the property management company. Hence, the primary customer of a property management company is the owners. Lest you think this is a philosophical issue, I assure you it isn't. This is actually contract law.

I have had my fair share of conversations with everyone at this company from Flunky, Slick Willy, Ms. April and even Luigi about this particular issue. I have written to them offering veiled threats. I have written them--using extra big syllables (and sometimes one syllable words when they were super-confused) explaining exactly how this is going to go. And somehow this has fallen on deaf ears (or in the case of my e-mails, blind eyes). However, I have two new contacts over there and though I am afraid I may jinx something, I think I have finally gotten Luigi's folks to see things my way.

Ms. Elsie apparently comprehends, "The tenants will be taking care of the yard." and "The tenants who ruined my hardwood floors will be paying my hardwood floors," and other such ideas. Not only am I getting a "Yes ma'am" from her, I am getting these kinds of e-mails from her, proactively explaining how the tenants are now being charged for their contractual transgressions. I would tell you it is about time but frankly I couldn't get any other property management company to comply with this prior to recently, so a new precedent has been set.

In addition to this, it appears I have a new contact in the maintenance department. Flunky is now apparently handling billing, though I am half-paranoid enough to believe I have been schlepped off because I may have suggested once too many times that he is incompetent. My new contact has been wonderful.

Ms. Mary sent me a note the other day, saying she was following up about the house in Moody. There had been a tree that had fallen in the yard. It hadn't been taken care of. The tenants were also complaining that I agreed to pay for flooring for a bedroom and hadn't followed through. That got my attention. Both of those issues should have been remedied a month ago. I let Ms. Mary know I was highly disappointed this hadn't happened.

I also let Ms. Mary know these are long term tenants and by no means did I want them to think I had dropped the ball on them. Because I hadn't. I sent her my correspondence with Flunky, showing that I did my part. I didn't say so in so many words, but essentially I double-dog-dared her to throw me under the bus and blame me to the tenants for not taking care of this house. Fortunately, it appears Ms. Mary has more integrity and sense than that. At least I hope so because I am quickly running out of big syllable words.

Waterworks

My Plumber's Dream Home. Probably.

I am expecting a very nice postcard from some exotic location from my plumber this year. I don't even know what I owe him just yet, but I am guessing it is a figure close to Iceland's Gross Domestic Product. Here's hoping he can live it up on his new beach house in Fiji, Barbados or the Maldives.

On Sunday, Mrs. Sherwood sent me a message saying, "The water problem is back. It is flooded and the floor is ruined." You may also remember that a few weeks ago my home in Alabaster had a similar issue. In that case, it was because nobody bothered to tell me the weather stripping needed to be replaced. And better yet, that issue wasn't conveyed to me right away. Instead, upon hearing there was flooding I went with "call a plumber."

This time, raw off that experience, I asked a couple of relevant questions to indeed find out 1) there is a problem with the washing machine drain and 2) a plumber is truly necessary. The best part was this entire exchange only took five minutes, versus the seven hours it took with Flunky. And by the way, this house isn't in property management. I may be seeing a pattern.

I resolved the water issue simply with Mrs. Sherwood calling my plumber and setting up a time for them to meet her out there. I would be the one paying the bill. When I asked her about the flooring, she assured me she would take care of it. It wasn't in a very conspicuous place and she felt letting it dry out and cleaning it would take care of the issue.

But, Mrs. Sherwood has been living in this house for almost 10 years. And frankly, if she looked around, she would figure out she is paying more than market-priced rent. And, she is a rock star of a tenant. So, if there is a flooring issue, I would rather pay a little extra, replace the floor and keep her much longer than let her be the least bit miserable. However, I don't feel that way about all my tenants.

Also this week I got a note from Mrs. Roebuck. In her home there is one potty and apparently it is broken. She told me this as I was driving my teenagers from one particular location to another--which frankly, is all I have done this week. And because I was not in a place to take notes, I told her the same thing I told Mrs. Sherwood: call the plumber. My big concern about this is that this was probably a rush job--which always costs more. However, it sure beats not having a working toilet.

So far, I haven't heard from either tenant or the plumber, so hopefully they were easy fixes. If they weren't. hopefully my plumber and I are friendly enough at this point where I may just call him myself and ask if I can borrow his beach house for a week or two. After all, I financed it.

Closer to Selling

My house I wish to sell in Alabama isn't on the market yet. This isn't a terrible shock, but a situation I would prefer to rectify sooner than later. In order for this to be done, many stars must align. You see, my former tenant sweetly left me a bit of a mess. Apparently she couldn't haul her used mattress, old boxes and a few other items to the curb for the trash to pick up. So, before anything else could be done, Kirby took care of that.

The house also needs a fresh coat of paint on the inside and out. If it would stop raining over there, the exterior could be painted. I am told the interior has been done. I have no idea what color, and though I would like to ask, it would probably emotionally obligate me to this process. And right now, I don't want to be emotionally obligated.

Then there are a few other things that must be done. The house needs to be cleaned. The former tenant took the shower heads. There was a rotted window header that needed to be replaced. Kirby allegedly "hired" someone to cut the bushes in the front, but I suspect he did it himself. And when all is said and done, the carpet needs to be cleaned.

Oh yes, I made the executive decision to replace the Formica butcher block-looking counter tops with some other more modern looking Formica counter tops. I have no idea what I bought, just because I don't want to be emotionally involved. I am told, as I write this, there are currently no counters at the house at all. Hopefully by tomorrow there will be.

This photo above, by the way, is a picture of the kitchen (with the Formica butcher block-ish counter tops). I believe Carolsue painted the cabinets for me years ago. The hardware looks like her handiwork too. Also at one time the kitchen walls were beet red. I painted those walls and cursed the tenant who made me buy six cans of Kiltz to cover up that ugly color.

Though it isn't on the market just yet, I have asked Kirby if he could please get me an offer $30,000 over asking price. The lucky buyers would also need to be willing to take the property as-is and close by April 30th. He thought I was kidding. But I am not.

Associate Broker

I got the word early today that the Arizona Department of Real Estate finally approved my application. This was pleasant news, after the week I had with them. You see, after 90 hours of school, 10 hours of arduous testing and then three more classes as well as a criminal clearance card, I had everything necessary to submit to the department to apply for my broker's license.

So, last Monday (on the way to the Diamondback's opening day, may I add) I drove right over to their office in East Phoenix and slapped down my paperwork on to someone's desk, only to be told my broker needed to initial one little teensy spot. And once he initialed it, all I had to do was e-mail everything in and Voila! I would have my hard-earned designation.

My broker, bless him, has been rushed to the emergency room twice in the past week and I happened to catch him on the one day when he was feeling relatively well. He immediately initialed the document (and gave me an earful on the idiotic bureaucratic policies in place--which I happen to agree with). I then re-submitted, thrilled to be done, done, done! But no.

You see, the department of real estate has rules and forms. On one particular piece of paper, when I was asked on this form how many hours I work per month, I answered 160. Apparently, according to the Arizona Department of Real Estate, that answer does not warrant a broker's license. The correct answer to that particular question turns out to be "172". I know this because the person handling my paperwork told me what to write before I turned it in again. So, I re-wrote the form, re-sent it to my ailing broker and then resubmitted all of the paperwork again--to the same person.

Apparently that wasn't good enough. The Arizona Department of Real Estate then arbitrarily decided they needed the same form (with the same magic "172 hours") signed and initialed by my former broker. They didn't need this initially. But by golly, it was a new burning issue and the only thing standing in the way of having "Associate Broker" at the end of my name.

One would think getting this form signed isn't terribly complicated. We have super-wonderful technology these days that even I can master. One particular program allows me to let anyone in the world "electronically sign" a document. Real estate agents everywhere use this. And, once my former broker clicks on the link (which electrically signs their name) the document is automatically sent back to me. So, piece of cake. The entire process, if one stalls, takes about three seconds.

Now, I know one of you three readers may know my former broker. And I don't wish to make you uncomfortable in the event you two are friends. But, please understand one of the significant reasons I left that particular company because of the childish and punitive behaviors nastiness unprofessionalism of this person. I didn't leave on bad terms, but my laundry list of examples of her poor behavior and unprofessional issues is fodder for a whole 'nuther blog site (Aptly named, "Bad Brokers and Ulcers").

And, in the event I ever thought of going back, I guarantee after this experience, I won't be. You see, my broker documents are time sensitive. My former broker knows this. So, last week I e-mailed this former broker. I called this former broker. I texted this former broker. I even sent her the form which needed attention--a form she has signed many times for other people on many occasions. I did this three times. And for my efforts, I couldn't even get a "I will get back to you." or even a "No. I will not sign this." In fact, when I called her at work twice, she refused my calls. It isn't like she doesn't know who I am. I was with that company for 12 years.

Frustrated, I bandied about a few solutions with others in my office who have dealt with her (there was a mass exodus from old company to my new company, so there are a lot of us who feel the same way). I was given suggestions from driving over to my former office, blocking in her car and not letting her out until she signed my form, to just going over to her home and giving her children copious amounts of candy until she signed my paper. There were a few other ideas which were questionably legal and my colleagues offered to start a Go-Fund-Me account for bail if I felt the need to follow any of their totally reasonable suggestions.

What I did do was a bit more passive aggressive. After giving Ms. Former Broker one more chance to take care of my very normal, and three-second request, I went to the Arizona Real Estate forum site on Facebook. This is a site I happen to know she trolls regularly. I posted asking if anyone on the forum was a member of the Realtor Association's professional standards and practices committee, and if so, would they please contact me because I needed advice.

Three members in the first 10 minutes after I posted contacted me. But even better, within 15 minutes of me posting and asking for assistance, Ms. Former Broker had returned my document. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I suggested it was a coincidence. I was immediately blackballed by the rest of the folks in my office who had once worked with her. In fact, one of these agents said, "Nothing with her has changed." Nope. It hadn't.

After that headache, I am now an associate broker.

I would like to tell you that getting my business cards was super-simple, but apparently I will have to find another social media site to take care of that issue. But with any luck, they will be arriving next week.

The Joys of Selling

So Kirby got inside my now-vacant home. He tells me the good news is the tenants left it in reasonable condition. The bad news is they didn't leave it the way they found it. Then he sent me a bunch of pictures to prove what he was talking about.

I hate it when tenants think the home they used to live in is their own personal dumpster. Now I am responsible for hauling off their junk--including a mattress. This means I have to find someone who is willing and able to haul off the junk and doesn't charge me crazy prices.

There is a bit of wood rot that also needs to be addressed. Kirby says this won't be too costly. The deck needs to be stained and the home needs a good cleaning. This is in addition to painting the exterior--which will happen once it stops raining over there.

Kirby also thinks I should replace the counter tops because they aren't granite (I am not a fan of granite, but that is for a different blog post). But that was just real estate speak for "the house is outdated," which is fine when it is a rental. It is not fine when it is for sale. I am either going to lower the price $10k--which I really can't do or I am going to have to do more work than I budgeted.

As someone who is in the business, I have a tough time with other's versions of "outdated." I am currently showing homes to a buyer who mentioned a home was outdated because whomever had lived in the home had decorated it about five years ago. I would like to point out, when this buyer moves in and redecorates to make the home "modern," five years from now it will be outdated again. It happens. It is called "time."

Additionally, as a seller, I am not very excited about paying for a buyer's dream. I am selling a home right now, not what the buyer wants the home to look like by next Christmas. If they want wood floors, they should put them in, not the person who is leaving the home. Buyers blow me away when they want to offer less because they want to change things around, "Our price is because we will need to paint the kitchen chartreuse and add a sun porch. I can't believe the seller overlooked this."

This is a voice of experience. I convinced a seller once to change the counter tops and flooring. The home sold immediately. I drove by this home two weeks later to find the new buyer had taken out the flooring and counter tops. (Though it has been a couple of years, I have not told this seller--who happens to be related to me--about this yet. Maybe it will come up at Sunday's family Easter brunch.) I understand every buyer's taste is different. What is considered "needing work" by one buyer could be a palace to another. I am not sure I want to roll the dice, put in new everything and then find out the buyer didn't want my renovations anyway.

As it stands now, Kirby is taking care of the wood rot and painting the exterior. Carolsue is cleaning the interior. I asked Kirby to get me a quote on a few other items, just in case I decide I need to do more. I also have James the Hell's Angels carpet installer on stand-by, just in case I need to put in new flooring as well. But I hope I won't need to.

Design By Committee

I am selling this house. It needs to be painted on the outside. The home is painted white and mauve-ish (around the windows and trim). I don't think it was originally mauve-ish, but time has faded the color considerably.  Kirby said "What color do you want to paint it?" That was the first it occurred to me I had to make a decision about such things. I am terrible at the whole design thing. I don't like making these kinds of decisions. It stresses me out. So I told him, whatever color will sell it works for me.

Carolsue gave me a pretty blue pallet she selected from somewhere. It was lovely but I have no idea if it will work. I sent it to Kirby and said "Something like this is fine if you think it is fine." Hopefully he doesn't decide neon green works better. 

Kindred Spirits

So I got a note from Kirby, he says the tenant has moved out of my home. He has no idea what kind of condition the place is in but from the kitchen, "it looks fine." So, now the fun begins. He expects to have the keys this week.

Also, I reminded him I am a terrible seller. He said, "I know. But I am a terrible agent. I ignore sellers like you."

Buyer Wanted

We are entering a new phase in the o'le accidental business. I am selling a house. This isn't like the short-sale selling, where the bank played games. Nor is it like the house in Leeds I have tried selling for years to an underwhelmed audience. Nope. I am really putting a house on the market. Sadly, I doubt I will make anything. In fact, I really don't want to sell it. The house cash flows. The tenant is questionable but clean. However, our lawyer has strongly advised us--and the bank who has the mortgage (and another home in foreclosure) is threatening us. So, we are selling.

Last I heard the tenant hadn't moved out just yet. I am so not surprised by this. Her sense of entitlement was high last winter when I suggested she get caught up on her rent or be evicted. I also know she had been asking to buy the house from me. That would have been just ducky on my part but the property management company seemed allergic to representing me in a sale. So, at this very moment, she isn't buying the house. I am going with the optimistic outlook that she really will be gone by the end of the month.

Who will be representing me in this sale, as of April 1 when the house is (hopefully) out of management is Kirby. For those of you who aren't in the loop, Kirby was my property manager for a long time. Then he wisely sold his company and pursued other lucrative adventures. Now he is my HVAC guy and realtor. He is also a quick text away when I need a referral Carolsue can't help me with.

This house--which is shaped like a barn, isn't in the worst neighborhood in the world. I would live there. And I guarantee there are houses I own I wouldn't live in. It will probably sit on the market for several months--despite being in (what I hope is) reasonable shape. Because that is what homes in Birmingham do. They sit for several months until an unsuspecting buyer comes along and makes a low-ball offer.

The house itself, has a lot to offer. It has a young roof. It has a six month old AC system. It is also a four bedroom, which is a rarity in the area. I expect to walk away when all is said and done paying off my loan and nothing else. The good news is I will have a great tax loss next year, because I am pretty much selling for what I owe, plus my expenses. That doesn't make me happy, but that is the free market. I bought at the wrong time.

The bad news is I am a terrible seller. Just like lawyers should never represent themselves and doctors should never diagnose themselves, real estate agents should never, ever, be sellers. We aren't good at it. Especially me.

Every showing that doesn't result in a sale is a personal rejection. With me way over here and Kirby way over there, I am sure I will want daily updates on what he is doing. Additionally, Kirby is one to sugar-coat. He and I have gone round and round about this for years: tell it like it is. It isn't a character flaw, it is a bad habit on his part (though he, being from the South, doesn't agree). And please add to the fact I am a somewhat high strung Type B, moderately uptight Type A wildly micromanaging Type A and Kirby is about as Type B as one can get and still be on this spectrum. He knows this about me. He is currently willing to work with me. Though perhaps as I write this post, he may be rethinking this.

The Hard-Hearted Landlord

A couple of weeks ago, Flunky sent me an e-mail saying there was water on the floor of my home in Alabaster. And, what should he do? There was no other information involved to help me make an informed decision, so I went with the obvious: "wipe it up." That netted me a glimmer more data, which was "there is water leaking on to the floor" and what should I--the landlord--do about it? The first thought that came to mind was find more competent people who could think for themselves, but I kept that to myself. When I suggested HIRING A PLUMBER, it was only then did Flunky admit the water in question was actually several days old and a result of rains from earlier in the week. When push came to shove, it turns out the back door's weather stripping had rotted.

Which bring me to yesterday's e-mail. Flunky wrote me to tell me the hardwood in that house is actually laminate. And now it is ruined by the back door. The tenant's "short term" solution was to put a small area rug down over it because the floor was coming up. The tenant is "terribly afraid" her son is going stub his toe. So Flunky wanted to know, wait for it..., what I was going to do about it?

The answer is nothing. I am going to do nothing. The tenant wasn't afraid of her son running in the water on the floor, slipping and cracking open his head. That sounds a heck of a lot scarier to me. Nor is the tenant concerned that perhaps she could have: 1) cleaned up the water immediately and prior to the floor getting into this condition or 2) letting Flunky know the weatherstripping had gone from under the door months ago.

The tenant is not loosing sleep about the fact the hardwood floors (yes, hardwood, they are not laminate any more than I am a size 2) are ruined and they extend seamlessly throughout the entire bottom floor. Granted, this happened by the dining area, so I can tile the kitchen and eating area to remedy the problem instead of putting brand new hardwood flooring in 1,500 square feet. The tenant isn't crying about that. Instead she is complaining her son may hurt his foot. And you know what, he might. She may want to watch him carefully.

I also told Flunky that this will be coming off the tenant's security deposit. She was negligent for not wiping up the water--or he was negligent for not taking care of the problem sooner. So, either the tenant or Flunky would be paying for this. I gave them a home with hardwoods in great condition. I expect to be given back a home with hardwood floors in great condition. I don't want tile. That's not what I paid for when I bought the home. So, figure it out.

There has already been behind the scenes stuff going on with this house long before I ever heard about the condition of the floor. Unaware of potential issues with the tenant's son's toes, I contacted Elsie earlier this week and told her come the beginning of May, let the tenant know I will not be renewing the lease. Instead, I will be selling the house. I have to. It belongs to the same bank as the home currently in foreclosure. So, I know the flooring will be fixed. But I am not doing it right now--just in case there is another water spill she can't be bothered to take care of.

The Invisible House

So, last week I sent Ms. Amy an e-mail telling her I was taking my vacant home out of their clutches. My reason to her was that there were issues with the home. Actually, my issues were with Ms. Amy's bizarrely weird behavior and the house. But that is for another blog that I must eventually write. Anyway, I heard nothing back.

By Friday I had sent Elsie, my new contact there (whom I have never once had any communication with from her at that point), a note. I let her know I had written Ms. Amy earlier in the week. I said that I wanted to make sure the home was taken out of management and off their books.

Instead of even acknowledging my e-mail, this past Monday, Elsie sent me a random e-mail saying that if Mrs. Martin hasn't moved out like she is supposed to, Elise would be happy to send out Late Rent notice. There is no reason to tell me this. Sending out a Late Rent notice should be automatic.

Please note. These two issues are not even remotely related. Mrs. Martin not paying rent has nothing to do with ANOTHER home being taken out of management. By the way, Mrs. Martin's home is also being taken out of management. But that is because I am selling it.

By Wednesday, I hadn't heard from Elise or Amy about my request to take the home out of management. I mean, there really isn't much to do but just reply with an "Ok," but I didn't even get that. And because it had been days since Flunky's emails had graced my specific area of cyber-space. I let him know that, as far as I was concerned, the home was officially out of management last week. Please stop the lawn service.

Today I heard from Flunky about something completely blog-worthy and unrelated to my former e-mail. But once again, there was no mention of my vacant home.

Random Bama--The Disclaimer Edition

I got a cryptic e-mail from someone at my property management company last Friday. It said "I have reason to believe" Mrs. Martin moved out in the middle of the night. She ended it with, "But don't quote me on that." Not a problem. I don't know who this person who wrote me is anyway.

By the way, I do have reason to believe the tenant is still there. You may quote me on that.

____________________________________________

It is tax season. For those of you who don't own an accidental business or two, you probably don't completely understand the significance of this. Essentially, Bliz, my bookkeeper, wonderful friend of 20+++ years and terrific travel companion handles our companies' financial statements, which I then give to Diamond Jim so he can figure out what the IRS gets from me.

This past week Bliz has been sending me e-mails and texts along the lines of, "There was a deposit on July 8th for $1437.28. Do you know what it is for?" I am answering as promptly as possible with my best guess. Hopefully I am close to correct. Because Uncle Sam gets a bit persnickety when I am wrong.

____________________________________________

And finally, it occurred to me that I may sound pissy about the property management company, especially Flunky. Truth be told, I am pissy about them, especially Flunky. They may be the best property management Birmingham has to offer, but they have slid way down the hill from wonderful. For the most part I am polite and professional to them. Even when I don't want to be.  I leave most of my sarcasm for this blog instead.

I thought you should know, I really am a nice person. Most of the time.

Agent Purgatory

If you are one of the three people who read this blog and know who I am, you have found this site one of two ways:

1. I have sent you the link
2. You have stalked me, figured it out and have nothing better to do

If you are my other reader and just follow along because you happen to enjoy my train wreck, well, hello. Welcome. I am pleased you are here. You increased my readership by 25 percent. My ego and I thank you.

But, back to the three of you I know. Disclaimer: There is a good chance I have helped you in some capacity rent out a home or find a rental home. Please understand, this post isn't about you. I know you. I like you (otherwise I wouldn't have given you the link for this site). 

If you fall into category number 2, I probably have also helped you find a rental home, rented out your home or you have been a current or past tenant. This post probably is about you.

So, lately I have managed to get back into finding rental homes for folks. This disturbing trend started in December when someone on a Facebook forum asked "does anyone know how to rent a house?" She just happened to post this on the one day in December I was on Facebook. And, silly me, I responded.

To give you a quick backstory, currently rental homes in the Phoenix are are going sight unseen. There are multiple applications for even the most junked out rentals. If a home is on the multiple listing for more than two days, there is either a good chance it is missing roof or a busy property manager hasn't had time to change the listing in the MLS because he or she is busy answering 5000 phone calls from potential tenants and real estate agents asking if their listed home is available. Even properties in the outskirts of town, like Florence AZ, are going sight unseen for absurd prices.

I surmise the reason for this is because investors bought properties around 2009-2010 for seriously low prices, and sold in the past two years, doubling their investment. Good for them. I am pleased. I probably helped some of those investors buy or sell. However, when they sold, they left me and every other crazy agent out there scrambling to find rental properties for the soon-to-be-homeless.

The good part of this trend is rents are going up. People who can afford to pay $1500 a month for rent, are finding out (from me) that they may want to consider buying instead. It will net them a cheaper payment and there are more homes for sale right now than for rent. And frankly, I prefer buyers over renters.

But back to my tenant tales. So, I responded to the woman on Facebook who never rented a home before. And voila! I got a client. Unfortunately, she ended up renting a home without me showing it to her (she didn't look at it at all, actually) so I didn't get paid.

The woman in question could afford $850 a month and had a FICO score lower than my post-foreclosure score. So, she wasn't exactly a landlord's dream. But somehow she decided I was a rock star and has referred me to all of her other friends who can afford $850 a month and have crummy credit. And apparently she knows a lot of these folks. And they are all calling me. Please don't consider me ungrateful. I am pleased to have the work. My son, who just happens to have a healthy grocery addiction, is also grateful. I am showing these potential tenants homes, and selling them as the greatest folks ever to owners just to have them repeatedly rejected. This is a scary pattern that probably will continue in the near future.

I always have a script I say before I take out a tenant to show rentals. I ask the basics, how many people living in the home? Pets? Do they want a pool? What is their budget? Where do they want to live (they always say $900 a month in Gilbert or Scottsdale, which is thoroughly unrealistic). Then, from years of experience I ask the following: Do you make three times the rent? Do you have any evictions, convictions or bruised credit that we will need to sell a landlord on? I always explain we need to be proactive in this market. And then I explain the market conditions.

In the past two weeks I have managed to have some interesting folks. In addition to the ones the Facebook woman has sent me, I have had the guy who admitted to me after I drove all over Creation that he told me a teensy lie. He really only made one and a half times the rent. And would an owner mind this? And by the way, he insisted on hardwood floors.

Today I got a call from a guy who wants to see a specific home on Friday of this week. When I explained the home wouldn't be there by Friday, and if he wanted to see it, I was available today, he got pissy and accused me of "pressuring" him. By the way, the home got three applications on it between the time he called and the time I left work. Also, as a point of interest, I had him on speaker phone at the office. When I asked about the credit/convictions/evictions, he hesitated, stuttered and didn't answer. Everyone in earshot caught it.

Last week I had the couple who had great credit, answered negatively to the eviction and conviction question. I thought for sure they were a shoe-in, as they were the only application that came in on a Tempe town home at the time. The owner passed on them because the couple seemed to completely forget they both had felony DUIs.

Oh, but that's not all they forgot to mention. One had a paraphernalia charge. The other had a possession charge. When I explained to them the owner felt they had a lot of history and he was uncomfortable renting to them, my (now former) client texted me the following, "I fail to see how this is 'A LOT of history'!!!! It is just four convictions!"

But this call today pretty much tops them all. A gentleman called me today. He wanted to live either on the very Southeast side of the Phoenix area or the very Northern side. There is a 70 mile span between the two. When I gave him my spiel, he replied, "Well, 19 years ago, I was convicted of murder. But it was only once and it was an accident." I will let some other frantic real estate agent try to help him find a rental.

The Antics of A Passive Aggressive Property Management Maintenance Manager

I want to give up my fabulous life and become a maintenance flunky for a property management company. Why? Because all I would have to do all day is write e-mails. I wouldn't have to think--I promise, that is definitely not part of the job description. And, if I felt the need (and I often do) I could be totally passive aggressive and feign ignorance.

Example A:

Last week I got a work order for my home in Alabaster: Flunky sent me the following: "Water is leaking and the wood is wet. It is getting worse" Flunky wanted to know what I wanted to do about it.

I have exhaustively covered the topic of giving me enough of the scope of work so I know what is going on with him. I give up. He just isn't going to do that. I originally thought it was personal. Now I think he is just stupid.

My first response was, "Call a plumber," because when I see "water leaking," that's exactly where my brain goes.

Flunky wrote back and finally told me that water was leaking from under the back door because it had rained and the hardwood floors were wet.

Me: "Is it still raining?"

Flunky: "No it stopped raining three days ago."

Me: "Why are the floors still wet? Does the tenant not own a towel?"

I was missing something in this, because it seemed 100% obvious to me that any idiot would see if this were what was being portrayed to me, that the weather stripping needed to be replaced.  And it did. However, it took six hours of e-mails and four voice mails to find this out. As I have explained numerous times, I am not In Alabama. I don't have a background in house maintenance. Why should I have to say, "Well then, fix the weather stripping." But I had to.

Example B:

The folks in Moody--who swear every year they will be moving out--want to replace the floor in one of the bedrooms. I am ok with that. I even agreed to reimburse them.

So, Flunky sends me an e-mail yesterday saying the tenant is waiting for a check to buy supplies and when will I send it?

Let me get this straight: the work hasn't been done and I am supposed to send them money randomly?

Instead, I wrote, "Let them take it off the rent when they provide you with a receipt."

Situation managed, right?

Dear Lord, this man will not go away. He responded, "That's not how we do it here."

How the hell should I know the policies of his company? I don't work there. But I do know I am not writing a check and mailing it to these tenants in hopes they will spend it on the floor. Because if they blow it on a birthday party for their kid, I just financed that.

I once again wrote back: "Ok, find out how your company handles this. Inspect the work when it is done and either cut them a check out of the rent or send me pictures of completed, inspected work and I will cut them a check."

Marty Sunshine asked me to take out the final part which was, "Please stop making me do your job. Try thinking for yourself for a change."

But in both cases we are talking about fixes under $150 (hopefully much less than that for weather stripping). We are also talking about a day's worth of back and forth nebulous emails. Or, if I call, I get some sort of runaround with him--if he bothers to answer the phone at all.

If I had never had experience with property management companies before, I might find this normal. However, I have had multiple experiences with property management companies in two states. This is not how business is done. Maintenance in a property management company is normally done by competent people who realize the owner doesn't want to be bothered or spend an entire day managing a situation they employ others to manage. I mean, I can understand if it is a roof, or something of a major caliber, but these are easy fixes.

And, in case you think there is actually work involved in this man's job beyond the scope of what I am suggesting:

Example C:

Flunky sent me an e-mail a few weeks ago: "When was the house in Pinson foreclosed?"

I saw no reason why this was his business. He did not give any indication as to why he needed to know. Was he settling a bet? Was he closing out his books for the year?

And because I don't feel he needed a major explanation, I promptly replied: "2015."

Flunky never got back to me asking me to clarify, so I figure he really was just finding a reason to send me an e-mail.

The Yankee

Carolsue once advised me to act like a "rich white Yankee bitch" if I wanted to garner any respect in Birmingham. Because I wasn't Southern, this was the only way the Southern Men I have to deal with would notice me. At the time I thought it was a bit wacked, but as time has progressed, I am finding she is right.

Most of the time, common courtesy works just fine when I have to deal with those in the South. Just yesterday, I had a lovely conversation with Mr. 114, who always makes me smile. There were the usual "pleases," "thank yous," and his standard, "you betcha girl, I'm always happy to help you," which always goes far with me. And, for you feminists out there, in this case, Mr. 114 means "girl" here as a term of endearment.

Unfortunately, Carolsue is right about the rich white Yankee bitch thing when it comes to Flunky. Flunky is a southern redneck who has no use for me. He looks like--and I am not making this up--the comic book store character from The Simpsons. He acts like Napoleon. Except when he talks to Marty Sunshine. To Marty Sunshine he says things like, "Yes Sir," and "Mr. Landlord, I am happy to help you," and all sorts of other things that make me pull my hair out.

Flunky and I are having a difference of opinions on a few items. Recently, he suggested that it really is too much to ask for a tenant to maintain the yard. He and I already had this conversation a dozen times, and I had gotten nowhere with the, "bless your heart. Yes tenants can maintain a yard." So, I tried Carolsue's approach. After going back and forth with him yesterday about this particular issue, I finally wrote:

"It is reasonable to expect ANY tenant--regardless of whether or not the Third Reich HOA is managing the neighborhood or not--to maintain their yard. So, yes, the tenant can throw down grass seed. They signed up for a home with a yard. They have a yard. They maintain it. Just like they signed up to have a home with a kitchen, they get to clean the kitchen. If they didn't want a yard, they should have an apartment. And if they wish to move because it is too much of a burden, they may move and be in violation of their lease. I promise grass seed costs much less than legal action. Or, if it is too much of a burden for you to convey this to them, let me know and I will do your job."

And what do you know? This time Flunky got the message.  

HOA-SS

A long, long time ago we bought an investment home in the small bedroom community of Calera, nestled half way between Montgomery and Birmingham. To be fair, we bought two homes there. But the one in question is on Hysteria Lane--which is living up to its name.

Again.

For the past several years, this community existed quite nicely. I never had too much trouble keeping the place rented. I had a few weird experiences, like the time the tenant's kid thought he was sexting his girlfriend, but instead it was going to my Alabama phone line. And he didn't believe me at first when I said he was sending these solicitations to his mother's landlord. But, that was years past.

Anyway, apparently some homeowners in the vicinity got it in their heads that this neighborhood would be better served if it was under the guidance of a home owner's association. Because that is what makes the neighborhood valuable. Right? "Value" doesn't come from desirability and personal responsibility. Never! (By the way, my most "valuable" home in Alabama doesn't have an HOA.) Sadly, because I wasn't there, I didn't get to say, "NO!" I am stuck with an HOA. Albeit, a stupid HOA.

To be fair, the other house in Calera has had an HOA from day one (they have a community pool--which strikes me as a legitimate reason for an HOA), and all they do is ask me to pay their fees once a year and leave me alone. The HOA for Hysteria Lane has only been around since October and I am already sick of them.

The biggest issue I am having with them is that they keep telling me I have "weeds" in my yard. However, the four nasty-grams I have gotten from them are a bit nondescript when it comes to "weeds." I know for a fact, that one time when I got the compliance letter, the front yard was under four inches of snow,

This latest letter is threatening "Attorney Action" and is telling me once again, there are weeds. Now, you think I would employ a property management company to help me out with these kind of issues. Unfortunately, Flunky is my contact at the property management company for such things. And, he is a bit worthless. For one thing, he sent me pictures showing me how his yard company went out to the home and mowed it. Nope, not a weed. But I am not sure what they mowed, because the spring grass hasn't come in. Hopefully the tenant didn't pay dearly for that. However, another picture he sent me from that batch was of the tenant's junk lined up on the side of the home. The HOA isn't complaining about that. Yet. But I am. And I am sure the HOA will notice it soon.

When I discussed this matter via e-mail with Flunky yesterday, he said, "Is the HOA suggesting the tenant put down grass and maintain it, because I am not sure the tenants will agree to that." My reply was, "Then the tenant can move. Because if they can't afford a bag of grass seed, they certainly can't afford the rent."

When I called the HOA today I spoke with someone who swears she personally drives by and sees the weeds herself. I asked her how that was possible when one of the violation notices was on the day after the first snowfall of the year. She didn't have a reply. I then asked her if she could point out the weeds to the tenant, because we are all kind of befuddled. I also pointed out if they keep sending these nasty-grams, the tenant will move out. Nobody will want to rent the house and that won't help the value either.

I would like to say the conversation stayed professional. But my conscience is clear: I didn't start it. But I did ask if it was her company's policy to mimic the Third Reich, though I am pretty sure she didn't know what that meant.

Where it is left now is she is going to go by herself, take a picture of the weeds and send them to me so we can all verify there are such things growing in this yard. Meanwhile, I am going to e-mail Flunky and tell him to have the tenants move their crap from the side yard before the HOA-SS shows up.

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.