Happy 2013, people!
It’s been a long hiatus, and I wish I could say that I was taking a much needed vacay, but that’s not really true. November and December are my busiest months because I generally go from 95% vacancy to about 20% vacancy in a whirlwind 3 weeks. I worked a ton of hours and banked a lot of comp time. So much comp time, in fact, that when we took a week off at Christmas to visit my inlaws in California, I only used 4 hours of actual vacation time. I’m coming up on my service anniversary at the end of January, wherein I get another week of vacation so it’s time to start taking some 3 day weekends.
As busy as it’s been, I’ve had a particularly good leasing season. Unfortunately, I think that we’ve acquired some incredibly high maintenance tenants for next year, and their equally high maintenance mothers, because despite my incredibly vivid and hopeful fantasies, I woke up to find that I’m still not allowed to rent to just guys.
For a period of about 6 weeks, my schedule would be full for the week by Tuesday afternoon, and people would get belligerent when I refused to stay past 5:00 to show them apartments. I already work a set 8:00-5:00 schedule, usually without lunch, so I don’t have those extra hours to give. One person told me, quite bluntly, that she has more important things to do from 8:00 to 5:00, and since my job is to rent apartments, I should stop being lazy and work the unpaid overtime. Yeah, no. “I can’t do that and I’ll be hanging up now.”
Because fuck you, that’s why.
I have a lovely apartment with wonderfully plush furniture, television, and video games. My apartment is much nicer than than the indoor barnyards that are most of my tenant’s apartments. Given the choice between contracting the first ever strain of airborne clap from one of these apartments, or hanging out in my own clean, comfortable digs with an adorable kitten who is better company than prospective tenants by leaps and bounds: the customer is almost never right. They can sit and spin every time- I’m going home at 5:00.
Showings themselves are actually one of the more interesting parts of the job because of the sheer volume of random happenings that occur. Examples:
- I got yelled at by a decidedly non-morning person who then threw a pillow blindly in my direction when I opened her bedroom door.
- I entered an apartment on a scheduled tour and got an eyeful of fully nude female tenant who screamed when she saw us and locked herself in her bedroom closet until we were gone. Said closet was not a walk-in.
- I stumbled upon the aftermath of a 21st birthday party, complete with empty mini-liquor bottles, beer cans, and smeared makeup, all laying in the middle of the living room floor next to a giant stuffed moose.
- I walked into the middle of a really shameful walk of shame. To paint a picture of this particular shame, one of her shoes was missing a heel and the other shoe was missing altogether. Her mascara was running so heavily that Ke$ha would’ve been jealous, and she was sporting the “Flock of Seagulls” hairstyle on one side with matted, crusty bedhead on the other, all while dressed in a teeny-tiny dress that I can only describe as stretched out halter top. At least she’d waxed…
- These all happened on the same showing.
Then there are people who will see the apartment, make a bunch of derisive comments about all the things they dislike about the apartment…. and then sign a one year lease for that apartment. It should come as no surprise that these are the people who call to complain about everything, at great length, and insist that we were the worst landlord ever when they move out, as was their landlord before us. And the one before that. And especially the one before that.
Thus endeth the year that was 2012 for me. (That, and I caught a monster of a cold before we left for Christmas and have been battling the Mucinex snot monster for almost a week now.)
By way of apology for all of the truly bizarre, random, and mean-spirited goings on from this past year, Santa decided to spoil my ass rotten. My favorite gift is a tie between my Kindle Fire and my Dremel tool, but I think I have to give the tie to the Kindle because of how many books I read on all those flights last week. I also got so many Starbucks cards that my once-in-a-while latte habit is fully funded through at least June, a buttload of money to spend at Joann’s (presumably to purchase the supplies necessary to start Dremel-ing), and giftcards galore! (Some people don’t like gift cards because they’re “impersonal”, but I call BS. They’re easy to pack when you’re traveling and they’re for places that I frequent often, but won’t have to spend my own money at now!)
It was the best of times and the worst of times last year. I don’t make new year’s resolutions because they’re trite and ultimately self-defeating, but I’ll work on making this year at least 85% awesome. Who knows? Maybe my heart will grow 3 sizes this year and I’ll come to love college kids.