Mr. Reader Number Two is coming over for lunch today. He is driving the 45 miles from North Phoenix to visit. I am excited. Yesterday we chatted a bit, while he told me about his trip across the country. When he left Michigan he went to Chicago, Virginia, Dallas and Kansas City before heading home. Mr. Reader Number Two is just shy of 75 and that's a bit of driving, no matter what age you might be.
I have been on a bit of a cloud since hearing from him yesterday. I am starting to believe the best gift Reader Number Two gave me might have just been was Mr. Reader Number Two.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Monday, October 30, 2017
Twin Wins
Today is inspection day for my listing. It is the day someone comes in, takes a peek at my clients' home and then gives me a laundry list of fixin's that the buyer wants taken care of. The seller, in turn, does some sort of aghast noise, stating there is nothing wrong with their home and the buyer is just being unreasonable. Both sides give their agent an earful, and we agents then chat about it.
As agents, it is our job to tell the buyer they can fix the cracked outlet cover on their own. It is our job also to tell the seller, that it isn't unreasonable for a buyer to expect the leaking hot water heater to be fixed. Generally there is a lot of anguish on both sides. The one asking for the repairs is making vague threats "Well! If they won't replace the cracked window pane, I will just walk!" And the seller saying "If they want a new garbage disposal! Why don't they just buy a new house!"
Fortunately, the Arizona purchase contract calls for a time frame to get all of these responses. Some might think it is to expedite the transaction. But really it is to get the clients to all calm down and look at the reality of the situation. The buyer isn't going to walk away from a home because of a $100 cracked window. It is reasonable for a seller to fix the broken garbage disposal, because if he doesn't, he will be fixing it for the next buyer.
Truly, most items that are wrong with a home tend to be small (though I can remember some times when they aren't, but that is for another blog). But both parties want to feel like they got a win. Asking for the window locks to be tightened is a minor issue. But it makes the buyers feel like they have gained some ground. Conversely, agreeing to fix the window locks from a seller's point of view is also a minor issue, they are just relieved the buyer didn't ask for the ceiling fan to be replaced.
As agents, it is our job to tell the buyer they can fix the cracked outlet cover on their own. It is our job also to tell the seller, that it isn't unreasonable for a buyer to expect the leaking hot water heater to be fixed. Generally there is a lot of anguish on both sides. The one asking for the repairs is making vague threats "Well! If they won't replace the cracked window pane, I will just walk!" And the seller saying "If they want a new garbage disposal! Why don't they just buy a new house!"
Fortunately, the Arizona purchase contract calls for a time frame to get all of these responses. Some might think it is to expedite the transaction. But really it is to get the clients to all calm down and look at the reality of the situation. The buyer isn't going to walk away from a home because of a $100 cracked window. It is reasonable for a seller to fix the broken garbage disposal, because if he doesn't, he will be fixing it for the next buyer.
Truly, most items that are wrong with a home tend to be small (though I can remember some times when they aren't, but that is for another blog). But both parties want to feel like they got a win. Asking for the window locks to be tightened is a minor issue. But it makes the buyers feel like they have gained some ground. Conversely, agreeing to fix the window locks from a seller's point of view is also a minor issue, they are just relieved the buyer didn't ask for the ceiling fan to be replaced.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Trip Logistics
Of course I am probably not helping my cause by throwing out suggestions like Antarctica--which costs more per person than a five year old car--which we need. But seriously! I've read the reviews of the trip I want to take and it sounds like a blast. I have also tossed around the idea of a road trip next summer to Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore, the Wisconsin Dells, Mackinaw Island, Reader Number Two's Memorial Service, the Ford Museum (Detroit), St. Louis and home. That sounds like a mostly fun couple of weeks for me. But as it was pointed out, we kind of need reliable transportation if we are going to make this trek.
It turns out "reliable transportation" is subjective, especially so when the rest of the family doesn't want to go. We have a car that can do the above. Probably two of them. But apparently our current vehicles are not programmed to take such "heavy driving." Whatever. The Flintstone Mobile has 312,000 miles, and has gone across country every year of its life, except this one. The other car is a 2016 with 20,000 miles. I think it can handle a trip. But apparently I am not an expert.
So far, it appears we are going to California in a couple of months to help out my brother with a home-project that needs a bit of attention. He owns a sliver of a side of a mountain and it has to be cleared before the City of Santa Clarita fines him. I am happy to help, but I only will do so when it is cold enough for the snakes to hibernate. As part of our trip, I have suggested a couple days as part of this to go to Santa Barbara/Solvang/Hearst Castle. It was countered with Magic Mountain (3 miles from my brother's home), Universal Studios or Knott's Berry Farm. I am told both of our cars can make this drive.
None of this is an upset with my family. My teenagers are at an age where they want to do what they want to do. A couple of years ago, I went on a New England whirlwind trip (well, it was four days) that has to be, by far my favorite vacation I have ever taken. Polly wants to go to Israel. The boys don't want to go to the Middle East. So, that might be my next trip. And I am pretty sure I don't need a car to make that happen. But I don't need one for Antarctica either.
*Seriously! This looks like fun to me. There is also a side trip to the Falkland Islands.
Friday, October 27, 2017
Falling Into Change
Though I have never been a fan of Halloween, for the past 15 years I have been a huge fan of Columbus Day. That also happens to be the day Buckaroo came into my life. He was a sweet baby. And, unlike his sibling, he slept at night.
But before Halloween and Columbus Day, I have always looked forward to October. It is the month before all the crazy holiday stuff happens. It is the last normal month of obligations before my social anxiety skyrockets because everyone decides they need to celebrate and we are expected to be six places at once. It is the month when the 100 degree temperatures, though they linger during the day, don't come as often or stay as high. We can--and do--sleep with windows open starting in October. And once in a while, dare I say it, I wear a light-weight long sleeve shirt.
I especially like October this year because it feels like a new beginning. Now that the court case and our accidental business closing is far behind us (ok, by seven weeks), October this year was full of momentum. I have been busy helping our family move forward from the depth of financial ruin. This week, we paid off one of the three debts that weren't included in the bankruptcy. Hopefully, if real estate goes well, we can pay off debt two in a few months. And then, I can get a reasonable car. Debt three will probably have to wait a bit longer. The car comes first.
October this year is the first month I felt like I could handle the horridly emotional grief that has overwhelmed me for the past few months. Though, to be fair, I had everything more or less under control and then a couple of weeks ago I drove by Reader Number Two's home. I then cried so hard I actually had to get off the Interstate because I don't have windshield wipers on my eyeballs. It took me two hours to drive 40 miles because I kept stopping in parking lots to get enough control over the tears so I could move forward. And this week, I really wanted to talk to her. I wanted to process the dynamics of this crazy transaction that was thrown in my lap. Reader Number Two was a student of human nature. She would have been able to give me insight and wisdom. But even with these two hurdles, I managed to keep my grief in perspective. I can function now. Two months ago, I couldn't.
When the wind blows, the weather is changing. The winds are metaphorically blowing in my home too. Not just with our finances. Or with me having to suck up that I have a lack of motherly figure in my life (which really sucks, by the way). But there are changes in our lives. I have drastically changed what I am doing to home school Buckaroo. It is an experiment that I think can work in his best interests. So far, we are in the beta testing, but it is quite positive. Polly is also lobbying for change, as she would like to go back to the community college in the Spring. If we can figure out this transportation thing, It might be doable. I am thinking one class. Something fun and interesting. English 102 can wait. There are also other changes. Subtle ones that seem to be causing positive results in our lives. So, here's to more great things coming my way.
But before Halloween and Columbus Day, I have always looked forward to October. It is the month before all the crazy holiday stuff happens. It is the last normal month of obligations before my social anxiety skyrockets because everyone decides they need to celebrate and we are expected to be six places at once. It is the month when the 100 degree temperatures, though they linger during the day, don't come as often or stay as high. We can--and do--sleep with windows open starting in October. And once in a while, dare I say it, I wear a light-weight long sleeve shirt.
I especially like October this year because it feels like a new beginning. Now that the court case and our accidental business closing is far behind us (ok, by seven weeks), October this year was full of momentum. I have been busy helping our family move forward from the depth of financial ruin. This week, we paid off one of the three debts that weren't included in the bankruptcy. Hopefully, if real estate goes well, we can pay off debt two in a few months. And then, I can get a reasonable car. Debt three will probably have to wait a bit longer. The car comes first.
October this year is the first month I felt like I could handle the horridly emotional grief that has overwhelmed me for the past few months. Though, to be fair, I had everything more or less under control and then a couple of weeks ago I drove by Reader Number Two's home. I then cried so hard I actually had to get off the Interstate because I don't have windshield wipers on my eyeballs. It took me two hours to drive 40 miles because I kept stopping in parking lots to get enough control over the tears so I could move forward. And this week, I really wanted to talk to her. I wanted to process the dynamics of this crazy transaction that was thrown in my lap. Reader Number Two was a student of human nature. She would have been able to give me insight and wisdom. But even with these two hurdles, I managed to keep my grief in perspective. I can function now. Two months ago, I couldn't.
When the wind blows, the weather is changing. The winds are metaphorically blowing in my home too. Not just with our finances. Or with me having to suck up that I have a lack of motherly figure in my life (which really sucks, by the way). But there are changes in our lives. I have drastically changed what I am doing to home school Buckaroo. It is an experiment that I think can work in his best interests. So far, we are in the beta testing, but it is quite positive. Polly is also lobbying for change, as she would like to go back to the community college in the Spring. If we can figure out this transportation thing, It might be doable. I am thinking one class. Something fun and interesting. English 102 can wait. There are also other changes. Subtle ones that seem to be causing positive results in our lives. So, here's to more great things coming my way.
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Baseball Talk
So, my friend Annie moved to Florida a couple of years ago. Recently, she has made a new friend who makes her smile. He works where she works and they spend their lunch hours chatting merrily. We have done what all girls through the ages have done--she shared all she knew about him, while I dutifully Facebook-stalked him to find out more and make sure he wasn't a serial killer.
He seems like a nice guy. His posts are consistent with what she tells me she has learned face-to-face. She has a few concerns though, one biggie is that he likes baseball. She knows nothing about the sport and wasn't even aware the World Series is actually going on.
So, for the past two nights, I have been texting her soundbites she can use with her new friend, if the topic of baseball should arise.
First and foremost, she should be cheering for Houston for two reasons: 1) she is from Arizona, and it is a class 2 felony to be a Dodger's fan if you have ever stepped foot in Arizona and 2) her new friend is an American League fan (thank you Facebook).
Here is what I gave her:
Game 1 was a serious pitcher's duel, but Kershaw brought his game.
The Houston offense, really didn't show up in Game 1 (actually, neither team did, but that would require more than just a sound bite).
Dodgers play better at home, and Houston, has historically been worse in away games.
Game 2 was all about the long ball.
In Game 2 Houston tied it up in the 9th and the game went into "extras" (I explained saying "extra innings" would suggest she didn't know what she was talking about--which she doesn't).
Also in Game 2 Correa and (I don't remember the other player, but I did last night) hit back to back jacks in the 10th. I then had to explain a home run was the same as a "jack" and the "long ball," though they are often used in slightly different ways.
Today I heard from her. She was thrilled with her newfound ability to talk baseball with her new friend. Her new buddy also coaches soccer. But she is out of luck with that one. Hopefully she has another girlfriend who can help her out.
He seems like a nice guy. His posts are consistent with what she tells me she has learned face-to-face. She has a few concerns though, one biggie is that he likes baseball. She knows nothing about the sport and wasn't even aware the World Series is actually going on.
So, for the past two nights, I have been texting her soundbites she can use with her new friend, if the topic of baseball should arise.
First and foremost, she should be cheering for Houston for two reasons: 1) she is from Arizona, and it is a class 2 felony to be a Dodger's fan if you have ever stepped foot in Arizona and 2) her new friend is an American League fan (thank you Facebook).
Here is what I gave her:
Game 1 was a serious pitcher's duel, but Kershaw brought his game.
The Houston offense, really didn't show up in Game 1 (actually, neither team did, but that would require more than just a sound bite).
Dodgers play better at home, and Houston, has historically been worse in away games.
Game 2 was all about the long ball.
In Game 2 Houston tied it up in the 9th and the game went into "extras" (I explained saying "extra innings" would suggest she didn't know what she was talking about--which she doesn't).
Also in Game 2 Correa and (I don't remember the other player, but I did last night) hit back to back jacks in the 10th. I then had to explain a home run was the same as a "jack" and the "long ball," though they are often used in slightly different ways.
Today I heard from her. She was thrilled with her newfound ability to talk baseball with her new friend. Her new buddy also coaches soccer. But she is out of luck with that one. Hopefully she has another girlfriend who can help her out.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Job Change
Though I usually don't mind what I do, this week has been one of the rougher ones I have had in a while. It has truly made me question my vocation and second-guess if I should think about another line of work. Fortunately, it appears there is an upcoming opening in Arizona for the US Senate. Perhaps it is time to consider politics.
As you can see from the pictures below, my Senate Exploratory Committee is now hard at work.
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| Finn, Lost in Contemplation |
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| Ollie, Discerning |
The Homeless Veterans
Mrs. Veteran was deployed about ten years ago. Mr. Veteran was a stay at home dad with young'uns. As a veteran, one of the perks is a special loan, which frankly, isn't easy to qualify for. So, to get a VA (veteran) loan, in addition to having served in the US military, one must have great credit and low debt. Both of which Mrs. Veteran had.
One can only have one VA loan at a time. So, if you live in Oregon and you move to Colorado and you have a VA loan on your home in Oregon, you must first sell the home in order to get your eligibility. And then, the expediency in which the eligibility comes back can take anywhere from (I have heard) one day to two weeks.
In Mrs. Veteran's case, we found out last Friday afternoon she hadn't received her eligibility back. It is simply a matter of someone at the VA office pushing a button somewhere and voila! However, when Mrs. Veteran--who, mind you, served our country and was honorably discharged and is entitled to this perk--called the VA office Monday morning, she was told, nope. No loan for her. She was "ineligible." No matter that she had a VA loan for the past several years. It didn't make a difference. According to some bureaucrat she wasn't ever getting another VA loan. This was extremely unfortunate because Mr. and Mrs. Veteran were closing on the home they were buying the very next day. And worse, they were homeless at 11:59 p.m. today.
Mr. and Mrs. Veteran also have six children. Did I mention that?
It has been a long two days. Somehow I managed to convince the selling agent to allow my clients to move into the home they are still buying (the loan is changing. It will take a couple of weeks for this to get straightened out). This is truly unprecedented. The sellers were not keen on this for obvious reasons. Prepossession can be a nightmare. Things can go wrong. Very wrong. I would tell you some of the horror stories, but I am superstitious.
The sellers originally agreed to allow my folks to move in. Then, they had time to think about the consequences and obtain legal advice. Their attorney wisely advised against allowing my clients to move in. When the selling agent told me this, I said, "Of course the lawyer told them not to allow this! If the sellers were my clients I would tell them no way in hell would I let strangers live in my home under these circumstances." I then went on to explain even though this was the case, would he pretty please with sugar on it ask the sellers to change their mind and ignore their lawyer?
"Can't they just get a hotel?" the agent asked.
"No." I replied, and I hope to Heavens I shouldn't have said yes. Because prepossession is like walking through a minefield. And one wrong move takes everyone involved down, myself included.
Even once the selling agent managed topester convince his clients to allow my folks to have keys, he had to run it by his broker. El Jefe however, had surgery yesterday so he doesn't know about all this. He will find out today but I will make sure to time it with when he takes his pain meds.
The selling agent also didn't allow me to get away with writing a prepossession agreement that didn't include compensation, though I tried (and he told me he was duly impressed that I would be so bold as to attempt this). I prepared my clients they were writing a check for the honor of living in this home. People don't generally live for free, but they are living pretty cheaply.
It took more than 24 hours, about 896 e-mails and 90,761 cell minute to get all of the details sorted out, but finally we came to some sort of agreement that was written up on three different drafts of two different addendums. Another addendum is in the works, but it isn't as crucial. Nor do I have the energy to word-smith anything else at this point.
The other agent reminded me of my role ended as soon as the buyers were denied their loan. Even if they were getting a new loan, it wasn't up to me to find them short-term housing. "That's like the pharmacist filling up the prescription, driving to the patient's home and giving patient a bottle of water and witnessing while he drinks," he threw out at me.
True. I understand this--and so did he. Sometimes our job isn't black and white. Sometimes there are creative solutions. Tonight my folks have a roof over their heads and their children are tucked in bed. They can sleep well knowing the worst is over (I hope). I offered to make a friendly wager with the selling agent that he and I will be sleep deprived by the time this is done, because prepossession has a way doing that. He wouldn't take me up on the bet. He knows better too.
One can only have one VA loan at a time. So, if you live in Oregon and you move to Colorado and you have a VA loan on your home in Oregon, you must first sell the home in order to get your eligibility. And then, the expediency in which the eligibility comes back can take anywhere from (I have heard) one day to two weeks.
In Mrs. Veteran's case, we found out last Friday afternoon she hadn't received her eligibility back. It is simply a matter of someone at the VA office pushing a button somewhere and voila! However, when Mrs. Veteran--who, mind you, served our country and was honorably discharged and is entitled to this perk--called the VA office Monday morning, she was told, nope. No loan for her. She was "ineligible." No matter that she had a VA loan for the past several years. It didn't make a difference. According to some bureaucrat she wasn't ever getting another VA loan. This was extremely unfortunate because Mr. and Mrs. Veteran were closing on the home they were buying the very next day. And worse, they were homeless at 11:59 p.m. today.
Mr. and Mrs. Veteran also have six children. Did I mention that?
It has been a long two days. Somehow I managed to convince the selling agent to allow my clients to move into the home they are still buying (the loan is changing. It will take a couple of weeks for this to get straightened out). This is truly unprecedented. The sellers were not keen on this for obvious reasons. Prepossession can be a nightmare. Things can go wrong. Very wrong. I would tell you some of the horror stories, but I am superstitious.
The sellers originally agreed to allow my folks to move in. Then, they had time to think about the consequences and obtain legal advice. Their attorney wisely advised against allowing my clients to move in. When the selling agent told me this, I said, "Of course the lawyer told them not to allow this! If the sellers were my clients I would tell them no way in hell would I let strangers live in my home under these circumstances." I then went on to explain even though this was the case, would he pretty please with sugar on it ask the sellers to change their mind and ignore their lawyer?
"Can't they just get a hotel?" the agent asked.
"No." I replied, and I hope to Heavens I shouldn't have said yes. Because prepossession is like walking through a minefield. And one wrong move takes everyone involved down, myself included.
Even once the selling agent managed to
The selling agent also didn't allow me to get away with writing a prepossession agreement that didn't include compensation, though I tried (and he told me he was duly impressed that I would be so bold as to attempt this). I prepared my clients they were writing a check for the honor of living in this home. People don't generally live for free, but they are living pretty cheaply.
It took more than 24 hours, about 896 e-mails and 90,761 cell minute to get all of the details sorted out, but finally we came to some sort of agreement that was written up on three different drafts of two different addendums. Another addendum is in the works, but it isn't as crucial. Nor do I have the energy to word-smith anything else at this point.
The other agent reminded me of my role ended as soon as the buyers were denied their loan. Even if they were getting a new loan, it wasn't up to me to find them short-term housing. "That's like the pharmacist filling up the prescription, driving to the patient's home and giving patient a bottle of water and witnessing while he drinks," he threw out at me.
True. I understand this--and so did he. Sometimes our job isn't black and white. Sometimes there are creative solutions. Tonight my folks have a roof over their heads and their children are tucked in bed. They can sleep well knowing the worst is over (I hope). I offered to make a friendly wager with the selling agent that he and I will be sleep deprived by the time this is done, because prepossession has a way doing that. He wouldn't take me up on the bet. He knows better too.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Today's Adventure
The massive lapse in judgement from my lender has snowballed. And as we all know, snowballs roll downhill. I don't feel like writing the details right now. But I have gone to bat so hard for my folks that my chest is seizing. My folks don't know this. Nor do they care.
The loan officer and the title person (someone I don't know) have both told me they are amazed at how much extra effort I went to--and I certainly didn't have to--to help my folks out. Truly, it didn't occur to me not to work this hard. And frankly, the selling agent has gone to bat for my folks too. And he certainly didn't have to. I am so grateful to him for his help.
I will never get a referral from my clients. I will probably, at this point, never hear a kind word from them. I have certainly heard a lot of angry (and justifiably so) words. However, their anger shouldn't be directed at me--even if it currently is. I am secure enough in my adulthood and my profession that I don't care. I know I did everything I should have--even more than I should have. I know they deserve a better fate than what has been handed to them. They won't be homeless. And hopefully in a few weeks this will be a distant memory and their Christmas tree will be proudly displayed in their new home.
The loan officer and the title person (someone I don't know) have both told me they are amazed at how much extra effort I went to--and I certainly didn't have to--to help my folks out. Truly, it didn't occur to me not to work this hard. And frankly, the selling agent has gone to bat for my folks too. And he certainly didn't have to. I am so grateful to him for his help.
I will never get a referral from my clients. I will probably, at this point, never hear a kind word from them. I have certainly heard a lot of angry (and justifiably so) words. However, their anger shouldn't be directed at me--even if it currently is. I am secure enough in my adulthood and my profession that I don't care. I know I did everything I should have--even more than I should have. I know they deserve a better fate than what has been handed to them. They won't be homeless. And hopefully in a few weeks this will be a distant memory and their Christmas tree will be proudly displayed in their new home.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Piping With Pride
We have a massive clog in our pipes. This drama has been going on for days. Tonight, I would have invited our plumber for Sunday dinner if I had use of my kitchen today. After all, at this point he has pretty much lived at our home all weekend. Anyway, the plumbers are coming back tomorrow. I am told at this point, the best way to get the camera through the pipe to pinpoint the clog is to either 1) cut a hole in my wall and then into a pipe, which will ultimately go into the sewer system or 2) drain the hot water heater, move it out of the way so that the plumber can get to the clean-out plate strategically located behind the hot water heater. Of course to do so, would also mean putting the hot water heater back once all was fixed.
And may I ask? What genius though to put a sewer clean-out plate right behind a hot water heater?
In the meantime. I cannot do dishes or laundry. The last load of laundry I did caused a massive flood, but at least Polly has clean clothes. The rest of us may have to wait until I get over to the laundromat.
None of this sounds wonderful (actually, it is pretty crappy). I am tired of sewage in my kitchen sink. But this post isn't a complaint about our plumbing, or the subsequent hot water heater we are probably purchasing because ours is more than 13 years old and is dying anyway, so why not take care of both? This is really a post about my relief. Six months ago I don't know how I would have paid for this mess. A year ago, same. Right now, I am able to write a check.
Gratitude sometimes comes in places where I least expect it. In this case, through my sewer pipe.
And may I ask? What genius though to put a sewer clean-out plate right behind a hot water heater?
In the meantime. I cannot do dishes or laundry. The last load of laundry I did caused a massive flood, but at least Polly has clean clothes. The rest of us may have to wait until I get over to the laundromat.
None of this sounds wonderful (actually, it is pretty crappy). I am tired of sewage in my kitchen sink. But this post isn't a complaint about our plumbing, or the subsequent hot water heater we are probably purchasing because ours is more than 13 years old and is dying anyway, so why not take care of both? This is really a post about my relief. Six months ago I don't know how I would have paid for this mess. A year ago, same. Right now, I am able to write a check.
Gratitude sometimes comes in places where I least expect it. In this case, through my sewer pipe.
Blame the Realtor
My loan officer of 12 years made a massive error in judgement last week. I found out Friday after 4:30 p.m. and immediately alerted my client (whom they did not bother to tell). I am absolutely floored and for the past 36 hours I have tried to come up with some scenario where it makes sense they would have kept this all-important item a secret. So far, I haven't figured out one reason for this.
And of course, who is my client mad at? Me.
Why? Because they are inconvenienced. They "trusted" me to help them find a loan officer (to be fair, I gave them three names). I am the one who bothered to tell them. It causes them drama. Whatever. It is my fault.
I hate the "blame the realtor" game. Of course, it is a natural byproduct of the job. Situations happen. Boneheaded lapses of judgement occur. Even if it isn't something I did, but only because I am the spokesperson for the transaction. It is my fault.
With these same folks, the home owner's association told them recently I "negotiated in bad faith," though the woman at the HOA had no idea about the sale of my client's home or why decisions were made. Guess who my folks believe?
These are the same folks I spared the week-long drama about the buyers of their home wanting to kick them out early because the buyers wanted to move in. They won't care at this point anyway, because they are getting what they want. There is no concept about what work goes on behind the scenes of a real estate transaction. That's ok. I would rather it wasn't stressful to my clients. That's my job.
It isn't the first time I have been the scapegoat for bad situations. One time, my client--who had very questionable credit--was having a hard time getting their loan approved. I had gone to bat for them, got the sellers to agree not to pull the transaction and take their Earnest Money--something frankly the seller had every right to do. And yet, when I went over to explain everything and have them sign the hard-won addendum allowing my clients to still be able to purchase the home, my clients said, "Don't do us any favors!" I have never been so tempted to tear up papers as I was at that moment.
There are other moments where I have been verbally assaulted because someone is mad things don't go their way. I have been screamed at because a seller didn't want to follow the contract (in one case over $65). I have had folks not want to sign loan documents because circumstances changed. Or they made bad life decisions and decided they didn't want to sell their home at the last minute. I equate it to being a cashier at Wal-Mart and having a customer realize their debit card is declined and 1) expecting cashier to pay for their purchase or 2) verbally abusing the clerk for their poor choices.
This is the one aspect of my job I hate the most. In this case, even saying "I don't know why my loan officer didn't tell us about this," will not make it better. The situation is salvageable. My folks (hopefully) will get their home. I will, at the very least, never get a referral from them and at the worst be bad-mouthed because of this inconvenience. There is no win-win for this one.
And of course, who is my client mad at? Me.
Why? Because they are inconvenienced. They "trusted" me to help them find a loan officer (to be fair, I gave them three names). I am the one who bothered to tell them. It causes them drama. Whatever. It is my fault.
I hate the "blame the realtor" game. Of course, it is a natural byproduct of the job. Situations happen. Boneheaded lapses of judgement occur. Even if it isn't something I did, but only because I am the spokesperson for the transaction. It is my fault.
With these same folks, the home owner's association told them recently I "negotiated in bad faith," though the woman at the HOA had no idea about the sale of my client's home or why decisions were made. Guess who my folks believe?
These are the same folks I spared the week-long drama about the buyers of their home wanting to kick them out early because the buyers wanted to move in. They won't care at this point anyway, because they are getting what they want. There is no concept about what work goes on behind the scenes of a real estate transaction. That's ok. I would rather it wasn't stressful to my clients. That's my job.
It isn't the first time I have been the scapegoat for bad situations. One time, my client--who had very questionable credit--was having a hard time getting their loan approved. I had gone to bat for them, got the sellers to agree not to pull the transaction and take their Earnest Money--something frankly the seller had every right to do. And yet, when I went over to explain everything and have them sign the hard-won addendum allowing my clients to still be able to purchase the home, my clients said, "Don't do us any favors!" I have never been so tempted to tear up papers as I was at that moment.
There are other moments where I have been verbally assaulted because someone is mad things don't go their way. I have been screamed at because a seller didn't want to follow the contract (in one case over $65). I have had folks not want to sign loan documents because circumstances changed. Or they made bad life decisions and decided they didn't want to sell their home at the last minute. I equate it to being a cashier at Wal-Mart and having a customer realize their debit card is declined and 1) expecting cashier to pay for their purchase or 2) verbally abusing the clerk for their poor choices.
This is the one aspect of my job I hate the most. In this case, even saying "I don't know why my loan officer didn't tell us about this," will not make it better. The situation is salvageable. My folks (hopefully) will get their home. I will, at the very least, never get a referral from them and at the worst be bad-mouthed because of this inconvenience. There is no win-win for this one.
Friday, October 20, 2017
Looking For Creativity
I am currently selling a six bedroom, five bath home in East Mesa. It is priced competitively. The home is in immaculate shape. It was custom built in 2015 by my client for the expressed purpose of providing a roof over the heads of recently adjudicated folks.
My client is a loving and compassionate woman. She is a dear, sweet person who is akin to Mother Teresa when it comes to sainthood. She believes highly in what she is doing. I don't agree with her mission, but I respect her convictions (excuse the pun). Unfortunately, her neighbors didn't see things her way. And, after 18 months of press coverage--and frankly, downright lies by the neighbors--she moved. To be fair, I wouldn't want recently released felons living next door to me either. But there was no need for the neighbors to exaggerate and add their own imagination to the entire ordeal.
And no. My client's grandchildren were never used for pornography.
When my client built the home, she didn't really think about resale. But for that matter, she didn't consider the fact she might have to move. So, there was no foresight when it came to the floor plan. The 4,000 square foot home has a two car garage, no landscaping, no bathtubs (showers only) and one main living area. All of these are holding buyers at bay, as someone who wants this much square footage wants more luxury and amenities.
Yesterday I put the home on a realtor tour, hoping to generate some exposure. Unfortunately, one of the neighbors to this home is also a real estate agent and was on this tour. The rest of my colleagues listened intently as I countered every single one of her version of events. I have little patience for gossip. Most of her information is incorrect or grossly exaggerated. I was able to shed some light on true facts, but it will be up to her to share what she learned with her fellow neighbors.
And by the way, I get at least one phone call a month from these crazy neighbors, with all sorts of ugly comments about me or my clients. The neighbors are hostile. My client moved out months ago, but that doesn't stop the ugliness. I have held the home open a couple of times and I am concerned to be there by myself, given the level of hate being spewed. My client changed her phone number. For business reasons, I don't want to change mine.
The home, though new, is not ideal for a large family. It is better suited for a foster care facility or an assisted living center. Of course, how I find an owner of an assisted living center who wants to buy a home on an acre in East Mesa, is beyond me.
Today I started calling agents who have sold assisted living centers in the past five years. A woman named Linda has sold three, which is two more than the next most productive agent I found. She didn't really give me much hope that her clients want another facility. But, on to the next one. I haven't figured out how to sell this yet, but I do know I need to get creative. Quickly.
My client is a loving and compassionate woman. She is a dear, sweet person who is akin to Mother Teresa when it comes to sainthood. She believes highly in what she is doing. I don't agree with her mission, but I respect her convictions (excuse the pun). Unfortunately, her neighbors didn't see things her way. And, after 18 months of press coverage--and frankly, downright lies by the neighbors--she moved. To be fair, I wouldn't want recently released felons living next door to me either. But there was no need for the neighbors to exaggerate and add their own imagination to the entire ordeal.
And no. My client's grandchildren were never used for pornography.
When my client built the home, she didn't really think about resale. But for that matter, she didn't consider the fact she might have to move. So, there was no foresight when it came to the floor plan. The 4,000 square foot home has a two car garage, no landscaping, no bathtubs (showers only) and one main living area. All of these are holding buyers at bay, as someone who wants this much square footage wants more luxury and amenities.
Yesterday I put the home on a realtor tour, hoping to generate some exposure. Unfortunately, one of the neighbors to this home is also a real estate agent and was on this tour. The rest of my colleagues listened intently as I countered every single one of her version of events. I have little patience for gossip. Most of her information is incorrect or grossly exaggerated. I was able to shed some light on true facts, but it will be up to her to share what she learned with her fellow neighbors.
And by the way, I get at least one phone call a month from these crazy neighbors, with all sorts of ugly comments about me or my clients. The neighbors are hostile. My client moved out months ago, but that doesn't stop the ugliness. I have held the home open a couple of times and I am concerned to be there by myself, given the level of hate being spewed. My client changed her phone number. For business reasons, I don't want to change mine.
The home, though new, is not ideal for a large family. It is better suited for a foster care facility or an assisted living center. Of course, how I find an owner of an assisted living center who wants to buy a home on an acre in East Mesa, is beyond me.
Today I started calling agents who have sold assisted living centers in the past five years. A woman named Linda has sold three, which is two more than the next most productive agent I found. She didn't really give me much hope that her clients want another facility. But, on to the next one. I haven't figured out how to sell this yet, but I do know I need to get creative. Quickly.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
No Takebacks
Somewhere in the recesses of Pinal County, John and Mary Newhomeowners are cursing my name and, subsequently they are cursing my fabulous clients who deserve better.
The drama about John and Mary's home took an unfortunate turn today. You see, their agent contacted me yet again, asking for the loan to close sooner than humanly possible. I assure you, if I could go and sweet-talk some underwriter and have them actually work at a reasonable rate of speed, I would. But I can't. So I won't. As it stands now, it appears my clients will take possession of their new home on Wednesday, October 25 around 4 p.m., unless for some crazy reason the planets align and this loan gets closed faster. But to be fair, 30 days is pretty darn quick for a VA loan to close.
When their agent got in touch with me today, I explained once more her folks weren't moving in until Thursday. Yes, Thursday. because my client's contact extends until 11:59 p.m. Wednesday. I would like to tell you it went over well on the buyer's side, but I heard a rumor that El Jefe got a call from someone complaining about this. He didn't call me, so I am guessing he said the same thing to John and Mary's agent that I said. And I am not about to call him and find out there is more to the story and he hasn't gotten around to telling me.
It is not my client's fault John and Mary have essentially changed their minds and want to take ownership of their new home. I totally get it. Today I talked to my client--who happens to know nothing about this week's drama. She asked me what she should do with the keys when they leave. "Should I call the new owners and offer to give them to him?" She innocently asked. No. Given how things are going, I think I will bring them the keys and spare my clients the earful I have gotten.
The drama about John and Mary's home took an unfortunate turn today. You see, their agent contacted me yet again, asking for the loan to close sooner than humanly possible. I assure you, if I could go and sweet-talk some underwriter and have them actually work at a reasonable rate of speed, I would. But I can't. So I won't. As it stands now, it appears my clients will take possession of their new home on Wednesday, October 25 around 4 p.m., unless for some crazy reason the planets align and this loan gets closed faster. But to be fair, 30 days is pretty darn quick for a VA loan to close.
When their agent got in touch with me today, I explained once more her folks weren't moving in until Thursday. Yes, Thursday. because my client's contact extends until 11:59 p.m. Wednesday. I would like to tell you it went over well on the buyer's side, but I heard a rumor that El Jefe got a call from someone complaining about this. He didn't call me, so I am guessing he said the same thing to John and Mary's agent that I said. And I am not about to call him and find out there is more to the story and he hasn't gotten around to telling me.
It is not my client's fault John and Mary have essentially changed their minds and want to take ownership of their new home. I totally get it. Today I talked to my client--who happens to know nothing about this week's drama. She asked me what she should do with the keys when they leave. "Should I call the new owners and offer to give them to him?" She innocently asked. No. Given how things are going, I think I will bring them the keys and spare my clients the earful I have gotten.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
John and Mary's Hotel
So Mary and John bought a home. In fact, they bought it from my clients. My clients, have a VA loan, and for the honor of sacrificing for our country, they have a loan that requires more red tape than common sense. Therefore, when Mary and John asked to buy my client's home, we knew there was no way my folks could move into their new home right away.
VA loans are, essentially, a complete pain in the ass. They take more time because some government agency, who has no skin in the game, has to add three times as much paperwork that nobody will ever read, to the process. For example, the appraisal--which looks like every other appraisal that isn't a VA loan--took--and I only wish I was making this up--10 days longer than any other appraisal I have ever seen. And the appraiser didn't apologize for making it take 10 days longer than normal (which, by the way, was a total of 20 days). Additionally, a veteran, who has a special loan eligibility, has to sell their home and then wait until someone at the government pushes a button on the computer to reinstate them before they can get a new VA loan. The entire eligibility process can take "up to" two weeks. And, not that it happens to be relevant in this case, the closing costs for a VA loan are astronomical. Knowing all of this about VA loans (well, I researched part of it prior to advising my clients), we asked Mary and John to please let my folks stay in their home (the one they sold to Mary and John) , once it closed until October 25. And, with the Good Lord willing, and if the creek don't rise, my folks can close on their home by then.
Now, it should be said, I don't represent Mary and John. I mention this because there is no way if I did, I would have allowed Mary and John to agree to let my folks stay. Essentially, Mary and John just bought their first home and they can't move in for an additional two weeks. They can't paint walls. They can't decorate. They can't cook their first meal in their brand new home. Nope. All they get to do is drive by and make sure the place hasn't caught fire. Additionally, because I represented the seller, and for whatever unfathomable reason, the buyer's agent allowed me to write up the post-possession agreement. So, my folks aren't paying a dime for this privilege of being homeless. When I wrote up the post-possession agreement I ran it by El Jefe, who said, "There is no way the buyers will agree to this."
They did.
Now then, Mary and John have just realized they own a home and can't live there for another week. And, guess what? They aren't happy about it. Their agent seems to have forgotten we have closed, all has been signed and there is an agreement in place that makes it impossible for her folks to set foot on the property. Or, more likely, she would like to forget, but I am under the impression Mary and John are reminding her hourly.
The agent's latest request (after triple-checking that yes, indeed, my folks are staying until 11:59 p.m. October 25, 2017), is can Mary and John put all of their worldly items in the garage until they can move in. My answer has been no. Absolutely not. There is a huge liability.
What if the buyer's boxes get wet? Catch fire? What if they bring in roaches/rats, which will, in turn get into my client's possessions? What happens if Mary's grandmother's heirloom diamond ring just happens to go missing? There are probably a million other possibilities that I don't even want to think about that could happen. Don't laugh. Those kinds of things do happen. Plus--and I know Mary and John only consider this a minor issue--my clients are currently using the garage.
However, my clients are perfectly fine with this sharing their garage. They are grateful they aren't homeless and are happy to help out John and Mary. I realize this. I also realize I am the bad guy here. My final communication with the other agent was for her to write up a storage agreement and I would give it to El Jefe (who will then say "NO!" which will make this all moot, but then I won't be the bad guy) and my clients.
I pointed out to the other agent, contracts are never for the good times. They are always for the bad times. We just don't have a crystal ball of all the circumstances that could happen if the buyers and my clients share the garage space for a few days. There is no conflict on my end. I protect my client. In fact, my clients don't know any of the countless disappointments I have caused for John, Mary and namely, their agent, today. However, there is a conflict on the other end. In fact, right now, the biggest conflict is John and Mary (and their agent) made a foolish decision to allow my folks to stay. Moving their belongings in might just be doubling down on foolish. I hope we don't have to find out.
VA loans are, essentially, a complete pain in the ass. They take more time because some government agency, who has no skin in the game, has to add three times as much paperwork that nobody will ever read, to the process. For example, the appraisal--which looks like every other appraisal that isn't a VA loan--took--and I only wish I was making this up--10 days longer than any other appraisal I have ever seen. And the appraiser didn't apologize for making it take 10 days longer than normal (which, by the way, was a total of 20 days). Additionally, a veteran, who has a special loan eligibility, has to sell their home and then wait until someone at the government pushes a button on the computer to reinstate them before they can get a new VA loan. The entire eligibility process can take "up to" two weeks. And, not that it happens to be relevant in this case, the closing costs for a VA loan are astronomical. Knowing all of this about VA loans (well, I researched part of it prior to advising my clients), we asked Mary and John to please let my folks stay in their home (the one they sold to Mary and John) , once it closed until October 25. And, with the Good Lord willing, and if the creek don't rise, my folks can close on their home by then.
Now, it should be said, I don't represent Mary and John. I mention this because there is no way if I did, I would have allowed Mary and John to agree to let my folks stay. Essentially, Mary and John just bought their first home and they can't move in for an additional two weeks. They can't paint walls. They can't decorate. They can't cook their first meal in their brand new home. Nope. All they get to do is drive by and make sure the place hasn't caught fire. Additionally, because I represented the seller, and for whatever unfathomable reason, the buyer's agent allowed me to write up the post-possession agreement. So, my folks aren't paying a dime for this privilege of being homeless. When I wrote up the post-possession agreement I ran it by El Jefe, who said, "There is no way the buyers will agree to this."
They did.
Now then, Mary and John have just realized they own a home and can't live there for another week. And, guess what? They aren't happy about it. Their agent seems to have forgotten we have closed, all has been signed and there is an agreement in place that makes it impossible for her folks to set foot on the property. Or, more likely, she would like to forget, but I am under the impression Mary and John are reminding her hourly.
The agent's latest request (after triple-checking that yes, indeed, my folks are staying until 11:59 p.m. October 25, 2017), is can Mary and John put all of their worldly items in the garage until they can move in. My answer has been no. Absolutely not. There is a huge liability.
What if the buyer's boxes get wet? Catch fire? What if they bring in roaches/rats, which will, in turn get into my client's possessions? What happens if Mary's grandmother's heirloom diamond ring just happens to go missing? There are probably a million other possibilities that I don't even want to think about that could happen. Don't laugh. Those kinds of things do happen. Plus--and I know Mary and John only consider this a minor issue--my clients are currently using the garage.
However, my clients are perfectly fine with this sharing their garage. They are grateful they aren't homeless and are happy to help out John and Mary. I realize this. I also realize I am the bad guy here. My final communication with the other agent was for her to write up a storage agreement and I would give it to El Jefe (who will then say "NO!" which will make this all moot, but then I won't be the bad guy) and my clients.
I pointed out to the other agent, contracts are never for the good times. They are always for the bad times. We just don't have a crystal ball of all the circumstances that could happen if the buyers and my clients share the garage space for a few days. There is no conflict on my end. I protect my client. In fact, my clients don't know any of the countless disappointments I have caused for John, Mary and namely, their agent, today. However, there is a conflict on the other end. In fact, right now, the biggest conflict is John and Mary (and their agent) made a foolish decision to allow my folks to stay. Moving their belongings in might just be doubling down on foolish. I hope we don't have to find out.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
The Winner Is (So Far) Lorenzo
There were three applicants on the cute little duplex in Gold Canyon. Sadly (for me, but not her), Jane ended up showing the home and the commission is hers.
Dina finally got around to applying. She was rejected before the ink on her application was dry. It might have helped her case if she hadn't been complaining about the staircase and how she might just "break her neck" on it if she were to fall. But probably not. Based on the basic criteria, she just didn't qualify.
Murray and his girlfriend applied. They have three or four children together. This is 950 square feet. The owner thought that six people in 950 square feet might be a bit too much. Actually, the standard is two people per bedroom. It isn't a law, but an owner can use that as a guideline. I think there may have been more going on with Murray too, but I wasn't the one who ran his credit and presented him to the owner.
Then there was Lorenzo. He and his roommate applied. They both, independently, make two and a half times the rent. They have no evictions. No criminal background. They have financial stability. They filled out the application completely--the first time. In fact, Lorenzo was so excited he texted me Friday at 5:30 asking if he could put down his deposit right then and there. "You need the lease first." I pointed out. That's probably coming Monday.
Jane is a new agent in my office. We have also been friends for most of our lives. I am glad she was able to help me and show these properties last week, because I was up to my eyeballs in other adventures when the showings were scheduled.
Dina finally got around to applying. She was rejected before the ink on her application was dry. It might have helped her case if she hadn't been complaining about the staircase and how she might just "break her neck" on it if she were to fall. But probably not. Based on the basic criteria, she just didn't qualify.
Murray and his girlfriend applied. They have three or four children together. This is 950 square feet. The owner thought that six people in 950 square feet might be a bit too much. Actually, the standard is two people per bedroom. It isn't a law, but an owner can use that as a guideline. I think there may have been more going on with Murray too, but I wasn't the one who ran his credit and presented him to the owner.
Then there was Lorenzo. He and his roommate applied. They both, independently, make two and a half times the rent. They have no evictions. No criminal background. They have financial stability. They filled out the application completely--the first time. In fact, Lorenzo was so excited he texted me Friday at 5:30 asking if he could put down his deposit right then and there. "You need the lease first." I pointed out. That's probably coming Monday.
Jane is a new agent in my office. We have also been friends for most of our lives. I am glad she was able to help me and show these properties last week, because I was up to my eyeballs in other adventures when the showings were scheduled.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
A Basic Primer
How to Not Rent A Cute Little Duplex in Gold Canyon Any Home
There comes a time when (apparently) one needs to be reminded of the basics of applying for a rental home. There have been countless volumes already written on such a topic--many of those volumes written by yours truly. But apparently the entire topic needs to be refreshed by thosenamed Dina who prefer not to be homeless. Even if it isn't my listing, but I am the one showing you the property, I am not going to risk my reputation on recommending someone to the owner who is going to cause issues later. So, off the top of my head, here it goes:
1. Show up on time. Showing up on time sort of suggests a sense of integrity. Showing up late makes others wonder what kind of time frame you have for more important pursuits, such as paying rent.
2. Keep a clean car. We look. How you keep your car gives us a hint into how you keep your home.
3. For the love of all that is Holy, keep your personal problems to yourself. If I have known you five minutes, I don't need to hear about every bad event that is happened in your life. I don't need your medical history. I don't need to know about your poor choices--even if you refuse to own your poor choices.
4. Speaking of medical issues. If you are disabled, an owner can't discriminate. If you continually mention that "someone could get hurt on the staircase" and you talk brag about other lawsuits you may have won, an owner may find another reason to disqualify you from renting their property--even if you are allegedly disabled.
5. How you fill out an application speaks volumes. I promise.
6. Why would you badmouth to me a property you say you want to rent? You have plenty of living choices. We hear what you say. We also understand it is an negotiating technique and don't care. Next applicant please.
7. The most an owner will ever learn about a tenant is from the time they express interest in a property until that moment the ink on the lease is signed (if it gets that far). Owners/agents pay attention to this.
8. If your clothes smell like cigarettes. If your eyes are glassed over. If your breath smells like booze. If your teenage kid smells like pot. Or all of the above, just don't waste your time, DearDina Applicant. And don't waste mine either.
I am sure I can think of a million other helpful tips that should have been taught by mothers everywhere. But this is what I have on short notice. By the way, Dina probably won't get the house. I have already mentioned to the other agent she needs to evaluate her application very carefully and perhaps give the owner a choice of potential tenants.
There comes a time when (apparently) one needs to be reminded of the basics of applying for a rental home. There have been countless volumes already written on such a topic--many of those volumes written by yours truly. But apparently the entire topic needs to be refreshed by those
1. Show up on time. Showing up on time sort of suggests a sense of integrity. Showing up late makes others wonder what kind of time frame you have for more important pursuits, such as paying rent.
2. Keep a clean car. We look. How you keep your car gives us a hint into how you keep your home.
3. For the love of all that is Holy, keep your personal problems to yourself. If I have known you five minutes, I don't need to hear about every bad event that is happened in your life. I don't need your medical history. I don't need to know about your poor choices--even if you refuse to own your poor choices.
4. Speaking of medical issues. If you are disabled, an owner can't discriminate. If you continually mention that "someone could get hurt on the staircase" and you talk brag about other lawsuits you may have won, an owner may find another reason to disqualify you from renting their property--even if you are allegedly disabled.
5. How you fill out an application speaks volumes. I promise.
6. Why would you badmouth to me a property you say you want to rent? You have plenty of living choices. We hear what you say. We also understand it is an negotiating technique and don't care. Next applicant please.
7. The most an owner will ever learn about a tenant is from the time they express interest in a property until that moment the ink on the lease is signed (if it gets that far). Owners/agents pay attention to this.
8. If your clothes smell like cigarettes. If your eyes are glassed over. If your breath smells like booze. If your teenage kid smells like pot. Or all of the above, just don't waste your time, Dear
I am sure I can think of a million other helpful tips that should have been taught by mothers everywhere. But this is what I have on short notice. By the way, Dina probably won't get the house. I have already mentioned to the other agent she needs to evaluate her application very carefully and perhaps give the owner a choice of potential tenants.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Adventures with the Duplex In Gold Canyon
I am finding aspects of renting out this cute little Gold Canyon duplex quite maddening. Last night, I even realized I was a bit triggered, an after-affect from my now-former landlord days. But truly, I have spent more time writing more about my adventures with this property than I have on trying to rent it out. And now that the Diamondbacks aren't going to the World Series in 2017, this $27 I am going to make when all is said and done is no longer as important. But yet, fun to write about anyway.
Tina's son may or may not be moving to Denver for several months. If that is the case, she is going to move into his vacant home. She is to let me know sometime today. Bummer if this is the case. I really had high hopes for her.
Dina is a damn wreck who is on my last nerve. Last night she sent me ONE page of the two page application with an explanation that it is "hard" for her to scan and e-mail and she will get the second page to me after her dinner. She didn't bother to tell me if her photo ID or proof of income will be showing up. I have already determined she doesn't have enough income coming in to qualify for this place. I told her so, but she insisted the owner will be dazzled by her brilliance and want her anyway.
Also last night, Dina asked me if I could show her the place once more. She is not remembering a window in the second bedroom and apparently my word--nor social convention of actually having windows in bedrooms--is enough and she wants to just double check. She asked if I could come out today.
What I did tell her is that I was showing the property on Wednesday at 4:30 and 5:00 and why not come a little bit early. "Someone else is seeing the apartment?" she asked, utterly surprised she had competition.
Yes, someone else is seeing the place. And with any luck I will get a real application from someone who is really interested and knows how to fill out an application.
Tina's son may or may not be moving to Denver for several months. If that is the case, she is going to move into his vacant home. She is to let me know sometime today. Bummer if this is the case. I really had high hopes for her.
Dina is a damn wreck who is on my last nerve. Last night she sent me ONE page of the two page application with an explanation that it is "hard" for her to scan and e-mail and she will get the second page to me after her dinner. She didn't bother to tell me if her photo ID or proof of income will be showing up. I have already determined she doesn't have enough income coming in to qualify for this place. I told her so, but she insisted the owner will be dazzled by her brilliance and want her anyway.
Also last night, Dina asked me if I could show her the place once more. She is not remembering a window in the second bedroom and apparently my word--nor social convention of actually having windows in bedrooms--is enough and she wants to just double check. She asked if I could come out today.
What I did tell her is that I was showing the property on Wednesday at 4:30 and 5:00 and why not come a little bit early. "Someone else is seeing the apartment?" she asked, utterly surprised she had competition.
Yes, someone else is seeing the place. And with any luck I will get a real application from someone who is really interested and knows how to fill out an application.
Monday, October 9, 2017
Really, No Window is the Best You Have?
So, Dina called me today. She had some great story that I could find in the "feel sorry for me" Renter's Playbook, page 27, paragraph A13. Essentially, her spiel went, "I spent all my money at the casino/7-Eleven/somewhere else, but I will gladly pay the landlord on Tuesday for complete privileges today." And how did I think the landlord would react to that?
"I think you won't have any chance of renting this house at all if you don't turn in the application." I replied.
Somewhere in Gold Canyon, a light bulb started flickering over Dina's head."I won't!?"
Then, taking another page from the Renter's Playbook, Dina started trashing the house, in hopes for a better deal.
I explained I had no idea if the owner would approve her, because I am just the middleman. And, if she wants a shot at it, perhaps she should turn in the application. Dina, didn't take the hint and continued with all the items she felt were wrong with the house. "That second bedroom didn't have a window, did it? Can they really charge that much for a bedroom without a window?"
I assured her, the second bedroom had a window, closet and door.
"Well, I don't really like granite counters..." she stated.
"I understand, maybe this is not the place for you. If you aren't a good match, I would hate to see you stuck somewhere you aren't comfortable with..."
At which point, Dina changed her story. She was indeed interested and I could expect the application in my e-mail inbox shortly. Uh huh. Right.
"I think you won't have any chance of renting this house at all if you don't turn in the application." I replied.
Somewhere in Gold Canyon, a light bulb started flickering over Dina's head."I won't!?"
Then, taking another page from the Renter's Playbook, Dina started trashing the house, in hopes for a better deal.
I explained I had no idea if the owner would approve her, because I am just the middleman. And, if she wants a shot at it, perhaps she should turn in the application. Dina, didn't take the hint and continued with all the items she felt were wrong with the house. "That second bedroom didn't have a window, did it? Can they really charge that much for a bedroom without a window?"
I assured her, the second bedroom had a window, closet and door.
"Well, I don't really like granite counters..." she stated.
"I understand, maybe this is not the place for you. If you aren't a good match, I would hate to see you stuck somewhere you aren't comfortable with..."
At which point, Dina changed her story. She was indeed interested and I could expect the application in my e-mail inbox shortly. Uh huh. Right.
Mothering
I don't instinctively know how to mother. I am terrible at it, based on standards of everyone around me. I could blame my upbringing and the values (or lack thereof) instilled upon me at a tender age. But somewhere along the lines I own this. It would have been wonderful if I figured out the mother stuff out on my own. I give Reader Number Two a lot of credit. When she came along, she gave me a crash-course. When Polly was born, I had zero maternal instincts, instead was stuck in a horrible postpartum depression that lasted longer than it should have. It was under control with Buckaroo, but still the instinct has never fully kicked in and I struggle mightily.
Today, I watched 17 year old Polly get ready for work and compared her to my life at the same age. Polly is ready to burst out to adulthood as long as it is in small, teeny, tiny steps. She wants to be independent. Grown up. That's why I am always surprised when she asks for some basic mothering. I am happy to do it, but I have always needed my children to show me how.
This morning, Polly needed lunch made for her shift at work. But when I pointed out she was going hiking and needed to bring water or Gatorade, she growled at me. When I suggested out she needed sneakers and socks instead of flip flops, she asked me to find her the "right" kinds of hiking socks. I lovingly did, knowing this may be the last time I get to do so. I then reminded her to brush her hair, which elicited an eye roll and a smartass comment. (My new angle on this is that there is a certain image she has to maintain at work, so being well-groomed, especially brushing that thick mane of hers, is essential. But the truth is, if she has her way, she will have medusa hair for the rest of her life). I have never won the hair battle. In fact, I tag-teamed Marty on this one and he assured me he would make sure her hair was brushed before she stepped into work.
Today, I watched 17 year old Polly get ready for work and compared her to my life at the same age. Polly is ready to burst out to adulthood as long as it is in small, teeny, tiny steps. She wants to be independent. Grown up. That's why I am always surprised when she asks for some basic mothering. I am happy to do it, but I have always needed my children to show me how.
This morning, Polly needed lunch made for her shift at work. But when I pointed out she was going hiking and needed to bring water or Gatorade, she growled at me. When I suggested out she needed sneakers and socks instead of flip flops, she asked me to find her the "right" kinds of hiking socks. I lovingly did, knowing this may be the last time I get to do so. I then reminded her to brush her hair, which elicited an eye roll and a smartass comment. (My new angle on this is that there is a certain image she has to maintain at work, so being well-groomed, especially brushing that thick mane of hers, is essential. But the truth is, if she has her way, she will have medusa hair for the rest of her life). I have never won the hair battle. In fact, I tag-teamed Marty on this one and he assured me he would make sure her hair was brushed before she stepped into work.
The years have flown by, (Alec, it will blow you away how fast time will go!). When Polly was 14, she would tell us she was moving out the day after her 18th birthday. I used to believe her, because I moved out at 18. However, it broke my heart to think my Polly wants to leave the nest. As time went on, Polly wisely evaluated and decided she would probably leave at 19 now. I am older too, and I know the reality of economies. I am not holding my breath she is leaving even at 19. That's ok, I still like having her home. It gives me a few more precious chances to be a mommy.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Ina, Mina, Mina, Nope
For whatever reason, I still don't have an application on this adorable duplex in Gold Canyon. Gina--the one who bugged me all week and wanted assurances if I rented it I would tell her, as to not "waste her time"--went out and found a place and didn't tell me.
Dina texted me repeatedly on Friday saying her application was coming in "immediately", which I thought at the time was a bold statement because she really came across as a train wreck. I still haven't seen it. Today is Sunday.
Tina, I had super-high hopes for. She has disappeared. She, like Dina, told me repeatedly on Friday she was turning in the application. When I reached out to her yesterday she didn't reply. Perhaps she is rooming with Gina?
At any rate, the super-cute duplex in Gold Canyon isn't rented yet, just in case you know someone who is looking for an inexpensive modest place East of Phoenix.
Dina texted me repeatedly on Friday saying her application was coming in "immediately", which I thought at the time was a bold statement because she really came across as a train wreck. I still haven't seen it. Today is Sunday.
Tina, I had super-high hopes for. She has disappeared. She, like Dina, told me repeatedly on Friday she was turning in the application. When I reached out to her yesterday she didn't reply. Perhaps she is rooming with Gina?
At any rate, the super-cute duplex in Gold Canyon isn't rented yet, just in case you know someone who is looking for an inexpensive modest place East of Phoenix.
Friday, October 6, 2017
Gina
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| See that red X with the circle around it on the right side of the map? That's the entire size of Gold Canyon. |
So Gina has been calling me about the cute little duplex in Gold Canyon for days. The best day for her to have seen the property was Tuesday. However, Tuesday I cut myself and spent two hours at the urgent care. Gina was one of the three random people I spoke with my two hour stay who were pissy they were inconvenienced by my injury. After offering to reschedule, she flat out told me to "call her Saturday" if the place wasn't rented by the end of the week.
I didn't worry about calling Gina. My transportation situation is tenuous right now and an $800 rental on the outskirts of town is not a top priority when I have one strong candidate and one wishy-washy candidate who want the property. Nevertheless, Saturday hasn't arrived and Gina has been calling me daily to remind her to call her Saturday.
First, I cannot stress this enough: even for Gold Canyon, a two bedroom duplex is a steal at $800. This place is super-cute and whomever gets it will have a great place and ultra-low rent. Studio apartments in questionable neighborhoods in Phoenix go for around the same price. There are no questionable neighborhoods in Gold Canyon--unless you count where the coyotes jump the bunnies at night or where the raccoons steal the trash for the unsuspecting homeowner who didn't secure the lid on the outdoor rubbish can. That's the closest thing to crime in the area.
But, when one is looking at an $800 two bedroom duplex, one should have the right expectations. We aren't talking about a mega-mansion. We are talking about optimistically 950 square feet. Gina, who has called me repeatedly, has been asking all kinds of questions about the layout and amenities (none). Her last inquiry was how many bathrooms? I explained there was a powder room downstairs and a full bathroom upstairs. "So it only has one shower? That's ridiculous! My roommate and I can't share a shower!" I didn't suggest they could take turns bathing, but whatever.
Today's chat--before 8 a.m. mind you, Gina back-pedaled on the one full bath and insisted on knowing who would be pay for the water. Telling Gina that would be a tenant responsibility did not sit well with her. "So the landlord won't pay my water bill?" she asked. Yep. You use the water. You pay it. The same goes for electricity and groceries. Fortunately, I didn't have to break Gina's heart and explain this.
Mind you, Gina has yet to see this house. And because I have yet to get an application on it (come one Tina and even flaky Dina!), it looks like I will be showing it first thing tomorrow. Hopefully Gina's expectation's won't be crushed when she finds out there isn't an indoor swimming pool or a wine cellar.
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Tina
So I showed the cute little duplex in Gold Canyon again today. My appointment was at 6 a.m. The reason I agreed to get up at 4:30 to get this done was 1) the agent who has been giving me leads did me a major favor that have no problem repaying. 2) I had transportation at that hour, which wasn't necessarily the case the rest of the day and 3) the woman I showed the home to yesterday--Dina--was threatening to put an application in. The other slight motivator that got me up with the chickens is I looked at the price of World Series tickets and I haven't convinced myself I shouldn't go if the Diamondbacks manage to get that far. However, my bank account will need some convincing.
Today's applicant, Tina, showed up on time. She was polite. She didn't presumptuously try to grab my injured hand. And, in the ten minutes I spent with her, she never once mentioned any physical malady that might have plagued her at any time in her entire life. Tina tells me she is putting in an application. When I asked about her credit, rental and criminal background, she replied, "Please let me know if you find anything. Because there shouldn't be any issues." What a far cry from Dina yesterday.
This evening, I was told by Tina to please check my e-mail in a bit, because an application is on its way. Dina also sent me a text message. She would have the simple two page application to me by Monday at the latest.
Today's applicant, Tina, showed up on time. She was polite. She didn't presumptuously try to grab my injured hand. And, in the ten minutes I spent with her, she never once mentioned any physical malady that might have plagued her at any time in her entire life. Tina tells me she is putting in an application. When I asked about her credit, rental and criminal background, she replied, "Please let me know if you find anything. Because there shouldn't be any issues." What a far cry from Dina yesterday.
This evening, I was told by Tina to please check my e-mail in a bit, because an application is on its way. Dina also sent me a text message. She would have the simple two page application to me by Monday at the latest.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Dina
The only Judy I have ever liked is a real estate agent who specializes (apparently) in a sleepy little town of 10,000 on the outskirts of the Phoenix metro area called Gold Canyon. We have become friendly this past summer, as I somehow managed to show (but not rent out) a couple of her homes.
Judy has been busy of late and asked me if I would handle her rentals temporarily. Though I have four homes in escrow, a lack of consistent transportation and two teenagers who seem to require constant supervision, I somehow thought I had time and agreed to do so.
I was supposed to show Dina Judy's rental yesterday, but after a quick trip to the Urgent Care to close up the open cut on my right knuckle, I had to reschedule. Today, I got into the Flintstone Mobile and drove out to Gold Canyon to show Dina a cute little duplex.
It was 95 degrees when I landed in Gold Canyon. I had texted Dina when I left Mesa, and told her I expected to be on time. It felt like overkill, as I had talked to her two hours earlier and she set our time. Dina's attitude about what 1 p.m. looked like and the Roman Calendar were not in sync. She obliviously showed up 25 minutes late, totally unapologetic, as I stood out in the heat, waiting for her. It was actually cooler outside than in the duplex, as the owner didn't want to pay for electric. So, under a palo verde tree was my best bet.
Dina who was probably my age, after meeting her 30 seconds earlier, managed to give me her entire medical history. When I didn't show any sympathy she repeated the same old sorted tale. Mind you, she wanted to shake--twice--and when I reminded her about my hand, (grimacing as she rudely grabbed it anyway, squeezing on my wound), it didn't really slow her down.
I could tell immediately Dina was a train wreck. It isn't because I am a student of human nature. Frankly, I had heard various renditions of Dina's life from others in my former years as a landlord. Dina had a sob story that included no discernible level of responsibility on her part. She promised she is a good tenant. She has good rental history. She said her credit might be a teensy bit bruised because of circumstances that weren't her fault. I asked about criminal background and she immediately changed the subject and went back to discussing her medical history.
Though she took an application, I doubt it will matter. I am showing the home again tomorrow and probably on Saturday too. And even if those folks aren't interested, Dina strikes me as disorganized enough that she will never get around to filling out the application anyway.
Judy has been busy of late and asked me if I would handle her rentals temporarily. Though I have four homes in escrow, a lack of consistent transportation and two teenagers who seem to require constant supervision, I somehow thought I had time and agreed to do so.
I was supposed to show Dina Judy's rental yesterday, but after a quick trip to the Urgent Care to close up the open cut on my right knuckle, I had to reschedule. Today, I got into the Flintstone Mobile and drove out to Gold Canyon to show Dina a cute little duplex.
It was 95 degrees when I landed in Gold Canyon. I had texted Dina when I left Mesa, and told her I expected to be on time. It felt like overkill, as I had talked to her two hours earlier and she set our time. Dina's attitude about what 1 p.m. looked like and the Roman Calendar were not in sync. She obliviously showed up 25 minutes late, totally unapologetic, as I stood out in the heat, waiting for her. It was actually cooler outside than in the duplex, as the owner didn't want to pay for electric. So, under a palo verde tree was my best bet.
Dina who was probably my age, after meeting her 30 seconds earlier, managed to give me her entire medical history. When I didn't show any sympathy she repeated the same old sorted tale. Mind you, she wanted to shake--twice--and when I reminded her about my hand, (grimacing as she rudely grabbed it anyway, squeezing on my wound), it didn't really slow her down.
I could tell immediately Dina was a train wreck. It isn't because I am a student of human nature. Frankly, I had heard various renditions of Dina's life from others in my former years as a landlord. Dina had a sob story that included no discernible level of responsibility on her part. She promised she is a good tenant. She has good rental history. She said her credit might be a teensy bit bruised because of circumstances that weren't her fault. I asked about criminal background and she immediately changed the subject and went back to discussing her medical history.
Though she took an application, I doubt it will matter. I am showing the home again tomorrow and probably on Saturday too. And even if those folks aren't interested, Dina strikes me as disorganized enough that she will never get around to filling out the application anyway.
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