First, let me preface this with telling you what my 80 year old father told me last night: commercial real estate and residential real estate aren't the same thing. And more to his point, I am not qualified. He didn't tell me what I wasn't qualified to do, but I am guessing, knowing him, he meant both residential and commercial. But for the sake of argument, let's go with I'm not qualified to sell commercial real estate. Which, by the way, I agree with him. I know human anatomy too, but I don't feel qualified to conduct open heart surgery. So, yep, Dad may be right.
Anyway, my client wants to buy a church. That means she is looking for a commercial building in her price range and in a sketchy part of Phoenix where she and her ministry can take place. She has been down this road before, with me telling her she wants to use my colleague, Bill. Bill is a rock star commercial real estate agent. My client doesn't agree, but fortunately, she trusts me enough that she is willing to give him a second chance if I won't touch the deal. As part of this process, however, I am tagging along to run interference and to learn a thing or two when we look at commercial buildings, which we did yesterday.
Potential Church Building 1: Built in 1945, brick and stucco'ed. No windows, but bars over the doors.
Located off of South 19th Avenue and Scaryville, I had to park quite a distance away when I showed up yesterday. Though I know very little about commercial buildings, I am pretty sure a church needs parking. Anyway, I half-expected my car to be gone when this appointment was over (spoiler: it was still there).
The building in question was being used for three purposes. First, there was an auto body repair shop occupying the back of the space. Second there was some sort of social/gathering room that used up one-third of this building. There was a stage, guitars and a drum. There was blue shag carpet on the floor. There was 1970s wood panel on the walls, which the owner assures us is "up to code," but I am pretty sure the City of Phoenix has rules about electrical wires not being bound by duct tape against the wood paneling and perhaps the wood studs should actually go all the way to the ceiling. There were two bathrooms, a small storage space and a nook where a microwave and a refrigerator stood.
The last space was padlocked about six times and the owner had to make a special trip somewhere to retrieve the key. She came back and proudly opened up the room (which was the other side of the "built to code" wall). The room in question was about the size of a two car garage. It had one AC vent. The residential real estate agent in me asked nobody in particular, "How old is the AC?" Bill muttered in my ear, "Let's assume it is original." But, that wasn't the interesting part. The entire space was full of boxes, upon boxes of merchandise. Now, in case you may work for the AZ Attorney General's office, I am sure it was all legal and taxes had been rightfully paid. But, if you are looking for a good deal on all sorts of random items from children's' toys to Christmas trees to pleather purses, it was probably in here. And lots of it.
Potential Church Building 2: A tin warehouse, manufactured probably in the Carter Administration and never maintained. It is located off of Central Avenue and also has no parking. I wasn't worried about my car at this location. I was worried about my safety. In fact, when we were done, I asked Bill to walk me back to my car because the six scary dudes were standing about three feet away from it. Bill said, "No problem, you will be my shield if things get dicey." I hope he was joking (spoiler: we were fine, or at least I was).
This big warehouse is shaped like a barn. Put about six two-car garages together and you would probably have a pretty good estimation of size. Bill commented as he let us in, "The owner said the electricity is not on." That was a big of an understatement because it was pretty obvious there was no wiring anywhere to be found. The only light that was coming in was from one skylight, situated in the middle of the building and the numerous bullet holes that riddled the walls. There was a room designated as a bathroom, but it was missing a potty. There was also a small office with a portable wall AC strategically placed on some concrete blocks.
But that's not the best part! Oh no! This space, apparently, had been some sort of bird (for the sake of argument) "sanctuary." There were chicken/pigeon/who knows what else feathers and byproduct everywhere! EVERYWHERE! It may have been suggested that one could cover the bottom of the floor with soil, add a few lights and use the place as a grow-house with all that fertile bird poop. Voila! Income-property.
Bill's (and mine) client is still looking around. They may want to raise their price because I am thinking these may not be what they are looking for. But what do I know? I am a residential agent.
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