With forty minutes to five Monday night, I found out my folks, CJ and Carlie, had been selected to rent the lovely home we saw on Saturday. However, they would have to have the cashier's check for $500 and the lease to the owner by 6 p.m. or the deal was off. Of course, this wasn't useful for me either, as it required me to drive across town, sit down with them at a random McDonald's and get a bunch of signatures for their lease. That wasn't really the problem on my end. The real problem for me was I was wearing comfy leggings and this agoraphobic real estate agent was snug inside her home for the next 24 hours.
The real problem for CJ and Carlie was that they were once again being asked to jump through hoops. And when I met with them at 5:15 Monday night, they gave me an earful. They had done everything that was asked of them. They had given and given with nothing in return. And for what?! There was no negotiation on my end. As far as they were concerned, I had done nothing, NOTHING I tell you, to help them in the teensiest. All I did was relay the demands--reasonable or not--from the owner! What good was I?
At that moment, they concluded (while holding the $500 cashier's check made out to the owner, mind you) that maybe they should call the entire thing off and just find someone more "capable" to help them. As I was getting this tongue lashing, all I could think of was, "Why didn't they tell me this before I changed clothes and drove in rush hour traffic?"
Have I mentioned I hate rentals? Part of the reason I hate rentals is that prospective renters do not believe the Phoenix rental market is crazy right now no matter what I say to educate them prior to them putting an application in on a property. There is a warped perception that I--and real estate agents in general, who all HATE doing rentals--are just in it for the money. When it comes to rentals, nothing could be farther from the truth. Rentals are a true labor of love.
But, actually, what I told them is, what they got by agreeing to the landlord's terms is a place to live. Eighteen other applicants (yes, eighteen other parties) still had to pay the credit check requirement, jump through a bunch of hoops, and they lost out to CJ and Carlie. In the rental lottery, my clients were the winners.
What I also added was (in a nicer, more professional way), and guess what? If CJ and Carlie hadn't agreed to a two year lease, hadn't agreed to no pets, hadn't agreed to change the air filters every month and hadn't agreed to move in this week, and hadn't agreed to pay $25 more next year, they would be homeless and have to do the entire process all over again with a home that probably wasn't as nice and maybe even with higher fees. They weren't getting their $70 credit check money back. Next time they might have to pay $90. And the time after that $100. And even if it wasn't with me representing them, it would be with someone who would tell them the exact same thing. Because CJ and Carlie won the Rental Lottery the first time out and eighteen other people would be happy to take their place.
Fortunately, to drive this point home, Mrs. Landlord also showed up to the party while my clients were signing the lease. She reiterated the same as above: they won! Congratulations! Everyone else lost. However, by then CJ and Carlie had calmed down and Mrs. Landlord missed the ass chewing I was still reeling from.
Instead, Mrs. Landlord got a, "Thank you for choosing us. We are grateful."
Note: After I wrote this, I did receive a text message from them, thanking me for going to bat for them.
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