You'll Never be a Landlord.

My husband is a fantastic landlord. Anybody living in his apartment building can attest to that. Depending on the tenant, his quest for the rent can be a mission of small expeditions or one highly intense, text to text miscommunication that only he seems to be able to sort through.

Our apartment

Karen works at the neighborhood bar. She pays the rent with her tips and small salary. On any given day she can call him up four to eight times.

"Isik, are you going to be at the apartment?"

"When do you want me there?"

"I'm at the laundromat. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

"Ok, call me when you get home." (After owning this building for over 15 years, he finally figured out to wait for the call that signals the tenant has arrived home. In the past he's been blown off from these meetings on a regular basis. A tenant on the road never means they'll make it home when they say they will. All they need is an offer for a free drink and hours later - oops, they remember their appointment with my husband.)

"I got delayed. Can I meet you tonight?"

"Sure, what time about?"

"Oh, about 6."

Now, since the laundry is usually done and taken home in the morning, Karen is off and running.  Not necessarily a good think in her case. About 6 she'll call again with...

"Isik, are you at the apartment?"

"No, when do you want to meet?"

"I'll be there in 15 minutes unless you want to pick me up. I'm at my friends."

The first time he picked her up from her friends, he discovered her friend was another neighborhood bar. She was feeling very "happy."

So this time he says, "Why don't you call me when you get home."

This could go on through the week. Either Karen runs out of the money she was saving for rent or the weekend arrives and she'll be getting more money to add to it.

At that point it'll be, "Are you going to be at the building on Monday??"

"What time about?"

 Karen always pays and even though she pays in bits and pieces, she's ultimately ahead by a month or so with her payments. She even has security deposit which she doesn't know about. Isik will surprise her one day when she falls behind in her rent.

Side of building

I'm horrible. If I had to diplomatically deal with tenants, I'd be doomed.

Let me explain just one day of accompanying him on his daily routines. 

The night before he received a three-tiered text. The apartment dwellers are late (as usual) with the rent. That's generally because of the three girls paying, one hasn't got it together yet. But they're in a panic because, as I said, they're late. So, the text boils down to

1. We're sorry we're late but we're at work and can meet you at 9PM if that's not too late.
2. We'll be putting the rent in the mailbox and you can pick it up in the morning, oh and  

3. Call me in the morning.

Of course he really better be there in the AM because the mailman comes after lunch. These gals pay partially in cash, check and money order. The mailman'll think he's getting his Christmas bonus early if he opens that box before Isik can get to it!

In the morning we have our granddaughter with us. His building is on the way to her pre-school so we stop for the rent. Isa and I play in the first snow of the year while he retrieves the rent. She's annoyed that it's impossible to make a snowball. I find that the snow on our car produces a satisfactory snowball, so we scrape snow off the hood until grandpa returns, frustrated. No rent in the mailbox.

I implore him to call the girl up or ring her doorbell. Maybe she's still in the apartment. Lo and behold he catches a glimpse of one of the girls, ready to get into a cab.

"Go ask her about the rent!"

"No, no, I can't, she's not the one that handles it. I can't stop her. I'm not going to embarrass her that way."

"Ok, then call up the girl who handles it. Or check the mailbox again. Maybe this one was suppose to put the money in there but she was late."

So he calls up the tenant. No answer. He goes back to the mailbox. No money. Does he ring the doorbell?? Nope.

I'm going crazy by this time.

"Don't bring me with you when you do this. Why can't you call the other girls up? Why can't you ring the doorbell? Why are you making me and Isa wait? At least text her about being out here."

He has me text her and we deposit Isa at her school, arriving late.

He explains that you need patience. You don't intrude in their lives. You have to give them space.

So, we drop Isa, head off to the doctor's appointment (late) and also receive the answer to our text about the rent.

She was still in the apartment (like I thought) and was apologizing profusely. She was now putting the rent in the mailbox.

"What about the mailman? What if he gets there before us? Tell her to leave it in the apartment and you can pick it up off of their kitchen counter. What is wrong with you? Why aren't you more foreceful? Why do you let them walk all over you?"

Isik sighs.

"You'll never really be a landlord, will you."

By the end of the day, not only does he get this rent but another tenant has texted. She's putting the rent under the door of the basement. We have two basements. Will we have another problem about that?

He has taken tenants to Aldi's, picked them up from Walgreens and gets parking passes for them. I guess the best example of his bond with his tenants was the day one of the pregnant gals was in labor. She was single and had a two-year old with her. She yelled out the window when she saw Isik and he quickly dropped both of them off at the hospital. He had always joked with her that if she ever needs to have him take her to the hospital, he's available. He never thought she'd actually take him up on that offer!

After all is done, I'm in a frazzled state. Irritated beyond measure with him. Agravated even moreso with the tenants, until I receive a call from my daughter.

"Can you take out Andre? I forgot to ask you earlier."

Aww, my granddog Andre needs me.

I guess we all have our weakness - Isik's are his tenants. He says they're like his kids. I guess that's why so few move out until they have to or have saved enough to buy a home. He's only had to evict twice, and both times they did move out before the battle arrived in the courts. One time one did say, "Go ahead, evict me!" It was like she was laughing at him so he did proceed with it. When he turned up at court, Isik ended up in the wrong court room. He tried to ask if he was in the right room but every time he went to the front, the bailiff told him to "Sit down and wait your turn."

When everybody left the court, the bailiff realized Isik was still there. He looked up his name and said, "Oh you're in the wrong room. You're suppose to be next door and they're finished."

When Isik returned home, she was already moved out.

My weakness?

My grandchildren - and my granddog!