Bit of a no-brainer, but I’ll share my story anyways, because it’s cool to emphasise the importance of staying true to the rules of thumb now and then.
Today the penny finally dropped. I’ve conceded to the humiliating fact that my snake-oil tenant pulled the wool over my – what evidently seems to be – stupid and useless eyes.
Hook, line and sinker! I fell for the
promises B.S she fed me during the viewing.
Reality dawned upon me late last night, when I received a text message from my tenant, reporting a “broken door”
Naturally, I shat my pants wondering which idiot did what to the door, so I launched an onslaught of questions in an attempt to encourage her to do what she should have done in the first place – provide me with an explanation of the actual problem, as opposed to a namby-pamby statement, which really, meant absolutely nothing at all.
Nope, during the viewing my tenant didn’t promise me that her ‘problem reporting’ skills were impeccable. If she had done, that would have been two pieces of shit she fed me, and I’d rather top myself than accept the fact that she outmanoeuvred me twice. I’ll get onto what she actually lied to me in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
After what felt like a life-time of exchanges, the mist finally cleared; what my tenant was actually trying to tell me is that the living room’s door handle had become stiff, and she wanted me to make it… unstiff.
HAVE YOU TRIED LOOKING AT THE DOOR HANDLE SQUARE IN THE FACE AND TOLD IT ONE OF YOUR STUPID MAINTENANCE ISSUES? THAT USUALLY KILLS MY STIFFY!
Rewind back to the viewing…
So, onto the baloney-pie she fed me during the viewing:
My dad is a painter & decorator.
My mum is a painter and decorator.
My cousin is a builder.
My cousin’s cousin is a builder.
My uncle is a spanner.
My brother is a hammer.
My nan is a spirit level.
I come from a long line of highly skilled tradesmen and tools.
I have building and decorating in my blood.
I am building and decorating.
So, the good thing about me is, that if any general DIY needs doing, I’ve got it covered. I won’t need to bother you.
Well, hump me sideways. For someone that has DIY so deeply ingrained in their blood, getting stumped by a stiff door handle is just bat-shit crazy. And annoying.
Here, try this, you lying sack of potatoes:
I should have known earlier!
As said, I should have realised something smelt fishy long ago. I guess my pride and gigantic ego didn’t want to admit failure.
The stiff door handle issue was just one of several primitive problems reported over the last couple of years. I should have known the moment she was perplexed by the light-bulb that needed replacing in the cooker’s extractor hood. Then after that, came a feature-wall she erected in the living room, which looked like it had been painted by a newborn donkey.
Now, I’m not saying I chose my tenant for her [non-existent] connections (because I didn’t), but it would have been nice if her claims materialised, because at the very least, it could have reduced the amount of time I waste on the niggling little problems… that slowly make you want to lose the will to live.
JUST SPLASH SOME FUCKING WD40 ON IT, YOU TWIT!! YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT IF YOUR NAN IS A SPIRIT LEVEL!
If she had those handy connections it would have been a bonus, and I’m not going to lie, it was a minor factor I did bear in mind when choosing tenants. I’m just bored of dealing with dumb maintenance issues that I get notified of (which I really, really, really shouldn’t), like squeaky hinges, wonky bog-roll holders, and replacing light-bulbs. So anyone that offers me a glimmer of hope of at least minimising those issues, gets rewarded with a slight boost in preference.
She must have seen the desperation when I started foaming around the mouth as she gave me hope. She could probably tell I had dealt with one too many shoddy paint-jobs, and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
She took advantage, she said exactly what I wanted to hear, so I ended up believing what I wanted to believe.
Either way, I shouldn’t have paid any attention to her unsubstantiated claims. That was my mistake, and it was such a rookie mistake, too. I should whack that bottle of WD40 down my gullet for being so incompetent.
To clarify, I don’t want any tenant or their relatives to attempt any real D.I.Y issues, because that’s a wonderful recipe for disaster. However, I do expect them to have the initiative to squirt a little grease on a handle when required. No self-respecting landlord wants to get dragged out of bed to deal with that nonsense, or even worse, pay someone else to deal with it!
Fortunately, I hedged my bets, because the factors that really mattered, like, a good salary, impeccable references, seemingly decent personal hygiene, and a steady job, were all in play.
But yeah, other than the fact she pulled my pants down with the whole “I’m Mrs DIY” crap, she’s an absolutely wonderful tenant! No complaints.
Never believe the shit tenants tell you during a viewing (and vice versa).
And if you do, hedge your bets.
In my case the end result wasn’t too bad, because in the grand scheme of things, I didn’t hang my hopes on anything too fundamental. But you can see the potential in how devastating it can be if landlords blindly believe in unsubstantiated claims during viewings.
Always question what you’re told, and don’t believe anything without evidence!
In order to make me feel less futile, can you please tell me about a time when your tenant or landlord pulled the wool over your hazy eyes? Merci beaucoup xoxo