Some of you may not know that in Colorado, Kent and I are homeowners. If that's the case then you need to start taking better notes about our lives. Anyway, moving down to Texas presented some problems because we'd only be gone nine months and didn't want to (nor would we probably be able to) sell our condo.
Compounding this problem is that our condo, while very nice, doesn't have a washer and dryer. It's one of the upgrades we plan to make but we haven't had a chance to run the water lines or buy a W/D. To me this meant that we would probably not be able to find a mature, responsible renter since most adults refuse to live without a washer and dryer inside their house. By "most" I of course mean that I will not rent someplace that doesn't have that feature.
Anyway. So we were faced with the arduous task of finding someone to rent our place. In April we started thinking seriously about starting to find someone. To facilitate this we did absolutely nothing.
As luck would have it I went to lunch one day with a friend and was discussing our lack-of-renter dilemma with her. I was telling her that we'd done nothing to find anyone and surprisingly had no prospects. She asked what kind of person we were looking for and I told her that a single, employed, middle-aged person with no pets or active social life would be ideal. She didn't have one of those for me but she did have a single, 19-year-old brother that needed someplace to live right away. This seemed to violate my main rule: no one with an active social life that might want to have people over. TEENAGE people with no respect for wood floors or new carpet. However I did figure he was young enough that he probably hadn't figured out the whole washer/dryer thing yet so I grudgingly told her to give him my number.
The short version of the story is that he ended up renting from us but wanted to move in two months earlier than we'd orginally planned. Realizing that any other prospects would have to be found and there would be work involved with that my husband and I agreed to move in with my parents for six weeks. All I can say about that six week period is that everyone played nice and there were no murders.
As it turned out our renter is a considerate and well-mannered kid. He's very polite and assured me numerous times he would take very good care of our wood floors and newly installed carpet. He even promised to keep our house clean, to which I said I couldn't care less as long as we didn't return to find cockroaches in the cupboards.
I had only one rule.
Under no circumstances was anyone ever to smoke cigarettes in our house. EVER. He promised no one would, and that he himself wasn't even a smoker anymore. That reassured me immensely, but I still made him sign the lease in his blood. It's not that I didn't believe him it's just that would be the one offense for which I'd have to string a tenant up by their thumbs and beat them. I would really hate to have to do that.
I was forced to think about this over the weekend when we to some friends' house. See, they are renters as well as indoor smokers. I wonder if their landlord knows or cares? I know that I care when we go over there. I am actually surprised when anyone over the age of 25 smokes. I can understand smoking as a teenager in a misguided attempt to rebel but really, why keep doing after you turn 25? Don't you realize by that point your parents aren't complete idiots whose every wish should be violated? I mean, I figured that one out by 21 but I respect that some people aren't quite so mature. (If my parents are laughing now they need to shut their faces. Love you!)
No comments:
Post a Comment