Funny Stuff People Say In the Leasing Office

There are some funny (haha) conversations to be heard in a Leasing Office. There are also some funny (strange) ones, too. Every day either one or both occur and for various reasons. Here it is the twentieth of the month and this property is still trying to collect THIS month’s rent from some of its residents. People here do not even try to hide the fact that they aren’t paying on time – mostly because the rent collection policy has never been enforced.

When one of the Leasing Consultants finally did the inevitable – turned in her two-week notice – then the funny (haha) and funny (exasperating) conversations began to occur in the course of the interview process. Working in property management gives one a crash course in determining truth or dare situations, and there are many when it comes to collecting rent payments and interviewing candidates for jobs,

The thing that grates my nerves is having the UPS or FED EX delivery person drop off a package in the Office for a Resident who still owes rent. I usually pick up the phone and call them right away to let them know that they have a package so I can ask them, “Why?” I mean, I understand that it could be a gift from someone but really, if I were in those circumstances, I would almost feel obligated to beg forgiveness. Worse is the couple who went to a local Rent-a-Center and the business faxed over a Reference Request. Really? You guys owe $900 in rent but you want to rent furniture????

Then there are those residents who come into the Office for the purpose of turning in their keys – and they still have several months left on their lease. When I explain this, they look at me and say:

“We bought a house.”

“I lost my job and I paid this month’s rent already. I have next month’s rent, too, but I am not sure about that last month, so we packed up and moved.” I am thinking that gives you sixty days to find another job, plus your wife could also work.

My personal favorite: “Our lease is over so we moved.” When I explain they are obligated to provide a written notice, they tell me, “Oh, yeah? Even if we weren’t planning to renew?” I explain that yes, they are supposed to give notice so that we can market and re-rent their apartment. Otherwise, how would we know what their plans are if they don’t communicate them to us?

But some of the funniest things that are said happen during the interview process.  Interviewing someone for the position of Leasing Consultant one day, I asked, “Do you like talking on the telephone?” never expecting to hear, “Oh, no. I try to get off the phone as quick as I can!” I looked across the table at her and asked, “You do understand that as a Leasing Consultant the bulk if your time is answering calls, don’t you?”

My personal favorite though is the person who asks if she will need to work weekends, because, after all, I have a life and the weekends is when I really get to live it. Let me pause a moment while I ponder that remark. Yeah - I am not so sure you are the right fit for this job.

The Art of Sale Doesn't Compare To the Art of Being a Mother

Today is a good day to be brutally honest, I think. Today is Mother’s Day and I would just like to say “Thank You” to the man who made me a mother, the one true passion in my life besides work. I used to say that my drawing was my second passion above work and behind motherhood; however, because I suffer from limited feeling in my hands, that part of me is somewhat stifled. Maybe I just lost my creative edge.

All I ever wanted to be, really, was a mother. I love children. I love everything about them: their curiosity, their truthfulness, their zest for learning, their energy! Their ability to believe is incredible and wonderful. They trust. They thirst for life and enjoy laughing, giggling and caterpillars. They long for the day when they become butterflies.

As a mother, I love teaching them, laughing and giggling with them, rubbing their backs as I sing them to sleep, watching them close their eyes with their lovely long eyelashes brushing their cheeks. As I watch, I realize there is a wayward tear gliding down mine. I miss those days.

So, today, I remember their birthdays, the ones that made me a mother, my two beautiful, wonderful, talented, intelligent, oh so funny, children who are now butterflies, flying to their own heights, making their own way in this wide world. Adults. Wow. When did that happen?

And even though this weekend I worked in the Leasing Office so that the Leasing Consultant could spend this Mother’s Day with her family, and even though I closed five leases, the high euphoria experienced at the close of the sale can never compare with being a mother, and I am grateful to their father who gave me the greatest joy I could ever know. Happy Mother’s Day to all those who mother someone or something in whatever way they do.

But My Lease Ended Already, You Moron!

Long story short, I spent more than enough time trying to defuse a volatile situation yesterday due to a) a misunderstanding; b) a miscommunication and/or c) a clerical error. I am still not sure which is responsible for this nineteen year old pair of roommates who were sitting in front of me telling me their lease ended the day prior and cussing me out for a) having tricked them into signing a year lease; b) having falsified the lease document because they NEVER would have signed a year lease – why would they when they would be graduating at the end of April?????; and/or c) just plain not caring and trying to take advantage of their inexperience by not reminding them of their lease expiration.

Not only did I have to endure their glares, sneers, and profanity, but I also had to speak with parents on the phone and meet with one’s father for an extended period of time. A time during which his daughter sat with arms crossing muttering, “It’s not fair; I am not going to pay!” (and you can’t make me!) His conversation came around with his accusation that our Office had altered the Lease end date and that we were taking advantage of his innocent, sweet, and naïve daughter.

“We would be happy to look over your daughter’s copy of the Lease and compare the two,” both the Leasing Consultant and I chimed in on several occasions. Of course neither roommate could produce her copy. Her father proceeded to point out that the way the original lease signing took place was not “correct” to which I replied that I am always looking for ways to improve that process; however, when I conduct lease signings, it takes an hour or so and I am very thorough. I also said that even though I was not present at that time (or, even an employee at that time) I was trying to help him. Inevitably, it led to the father asking for Corporate’s number.

Ultimately, from my point of view, and because no one can remember exactly what was said in a phone call, on any given day at any given moment, the written lease agreement is the decision maker. This is why I explain that the lease agreement a new Resident or a renewing Resident is signing is a legally binding contract and should be entered into reverently – something not unlike a marriage.

Naturally, no one is going to be happy about this outcome. On the one hand, I have two young ladies threatening everything from a lawsuit to posting terrible reviews online (which they are probably going to do anyway based on their level of anger on any given day for whatever reason) to knowing that it is the responsibility of all parties to enter into a contract with confidence they understand the clauses. The teacher in me is screaming that perhaps what we should follow up every lease signing with, in addition to the keys to the apartment, is a test covering all of the most contested points of the contract: giving written notice – required; breaking or terminating a lease early; late fees; what happens if your check bounces; utility charges, including who pays for what; when rent is due … Until the person can actually pass the test with a perfect score, they can’t get their keys.

Handling an Emergency When You Live Alone

According to www.weareapartments.org, there are 289,000 people who are residents in 187,500 apartment homes in the state of Kentucky. What matters to me, however, is that over the weekend I became one of them and something dreadful happened which made me wonder when our emergency 9-1-1 system is going to wise up and accept TEXT messages. Never mind, that MAYBE, just maybe, this really could only happen to me. In reality, I know it could happen to anyone.

Generally, I live alone. What happens when someone who lives alone encounters a life-threatening emergency? Last night, something really scary occurred while I was wolfing down dinner, while also tweeting, watching a DVD and reading a magazine. I knew it immediately. I little tiny piece of baked potato got sucked down my windpipe and in a split second I thought I was truly going to die.

And you know what one of my first thoughts was? You know that old saying about not being caught dead wearing such-and-such outfit? Yeah. That was what I thought. Briefly, while I pondered calling 9-1-1 and also thinking, “I can’t do that because I CAN’T SPEAK!” I looked down at my yoga pants and T-Shirt and thought:

“Oh, God! I can’t let someone find my body wearing this! Wait, do I have any makeup on???”

Followed by: “Do I have time to change before I pass out?”

Followed by: “Wait, can I text my situation to the 9-1-1 operator? I can type! But I can’t talk.” When the realization set in that I was choking and no longer breathing, I tried to cry but no sound came out. Then my chest began to hurt. Then I wondered if I was having a heart attack on top of choking to death. Then I thought maybe I should text my son or my daughter and let them know I need help.

Finally, the will to live kicked in and I doubled over and tried to dislodge the obstruction. Falling to my knees, collapsing, I still could not breathe and I could not cough. I don’t know if you have ever heard someone trying valiantly to get a breath of air, but it is something I will never forget. It is a sound of utter despair.

Just as I stood up and leaned forward I forced air into my closed windpipe. The rest is history now, since obviously it worked. Half an hour later, writhing in pain as every intake of air expanded a lung that would not fill without a fight, a violent coughing fit ensued. Sorry – don’t mean to be so graphic. Nothing was ever coughed out and even now, I have moments of terror at the memory.

It makes me wonder though. How many others live alone in our apartment communities who may not have someone in the next room to help them during just such an emergency? Wouldn’t it be great if our emergency response system could accept text messages?

There's No Such Thing As Zero Income

In the world of multifamily housing, dealing with income-based housing specifically, I can categorically state there is no such thing as having no income. Just as there most likely are no immaculate conceptions. However, if you examine many verification processes, you may discover quite a few residents in your communities whose files indicate otherwise.

True stories.

I was new to working with residents in our project based Section 8 community years ago when I was was interviewing a mother with two children. One child was a newborn requiring a lot of care. She reported she was not working, no longer able to receive cash assistance and therefore had no income. That struck me as odd, so I casually asked, "Are you nursing then?"

She looked at me with a questioning expression. "No," she answered. "Why is that your business?"

I told her, "If you aren't nursing, then how do you feed your baby? Is the baby wearing cloth diapers? Because if not, how are you buying diapers?" With further questioning, she admitted that she receives help. "And how much is your baby's father giving you to pay for things?"

Later, after some experience interviewing, I was talking to a resident for her Annual Recertification and commented that she has a car. Is the car insured? Who is paying the insurance? And for those who answered they don't pay for it, a lot of times I find the car is not registered to the resident. Hummm. I would simply say, "If your child's father wants you to have a car, then he should put your name on the registration and pay the insurance. And by the way,you have a state ID. Does that mean you don't have a drivers license?"

I love it when those who smoke come in to Recertify. "How do you pay for your cigarettes?"

People have some kind of income. They often do not like to report it. Whether they receive money from panhandling, doing odd jobs, mowing the grass, recycling bottles or scrap metal, they get money somehow. The thing is residents are fearful of admitting their truths. It takes a certain level of trust to get our residents to understand we don't judge them, we just want to understand  their story so we can help them. There are programs and resources out there. It's up to those on he front lines of housing to build that trust so we can educate our Residents on where to go for help if they want or need it.

My favorite story was the senior citizen whose apartment was heavily trafficked during the first week of every month. Finally I went to her apartment to check it out for myself. I knocked and she invited me inside. I noticed a stand up freezer (against our rules) and I asked her why she had a freezer. She proudly opened the door and said, "Now, Miss Mindy, you ain't gonna make me get rid of it, are you?" I peeked inside. It was filled with meat.

"That's quite a lot of meat! Why do you have so much? Looks like a butcher shop in here!"

Turns out she was selling it for other's food stamps.

You Can't Only Show Up, People!

Two weeks of actual management on my new sites has made an impact on me and frankly, I am not proud of my initial emotional reaction to the situation. However, regardless of any problems with the team (lacking any team spirit), with insane micromanagement (a survival technique necessary when there is no onsite manager), with adjustment to new technologies (there’s a different software program for every property management task, no kidding) and just trying to find my way around a new area, I am adamant that I find a way to break through and turn this situation around.

These communities have had no consistent leadership for months on end, let alone anyone committed and passionate about building the communities into something more than “The Projects” as they are currently known to everyone I have mentioned the names to while exploring outreach marketing opportunities. That is sad in itself, of course, and at the very least it gives me a starting point. Ideally, I would love to change the communities’ names (I don’t think that is possible … yet?) and I would like to market our programs differently (which is totally, absolutely possible.)

Our communities lie next to a beautiful luxury community for seniors age 55+ and in close proximity to two other communities, one of which was revamped as a Green initiative offering recycling (They are all sister communities.) Of course, I am just “brainstorming” and “daydreaming” but I believe that my communities can become a place of connection: connecting Residents to not only safe, decent, and sanitary housing, but also to social resources, including a new youth initiative that is working to become self-sufficient. Bringing services into the property will build us into a real community – that is my goal. Apartment communities MUST develop themselves into cohesive, comfortable places for Residents to feel at home, to come home to and to see what possibilities may lie ahead so that they grow and prosper.

It isn’t enough that our maintenance and management staffs come to work every day. Just showing up is not enough. I intend to challenge our attitude that it is. It starts tomorrow – either we come together and focus on our Residents or we stay apart selfishly focusing on the philosophy of “What’s In It For Me?” I do not see myself as a boss. I see myself building a team that thinks about what is in the best interest of the property, Residents, company, team and themselves last. The self-centered way of doing things stops tomorrow. This may be a rocky road for a lot longer, but I know this is the only way for these properties to gain a better reputation, happier residents, and a new “lease on life.” It starts with me and it starts right now.

Lost In Transition

Tell me again why change is good? Oh, yeah, right. If change doesn’t occur, then you really have no reason to grow, whether that growth is internal or external. However, with impending change, one has to learn to adapt and roll, accept and climb, and move forward. Therein lies my routine of late … and I think I am a bit lost in transition!

I’ve experienced many opportunities to live through transitional periods, like most people have. After all, I have been mostly on my own since I was ten years old. You would think it would not throw me like this latest transition has. Well, maybe not exactly thrown me, but at least made me scramble to work through details: find a new job, decide on where to live: apartment or house, make moving arrangements (a two-state move to a third state; where to shop – heck, even where to park my car when I am onsite. I read that one of the last managers had her car stolen her third week there.)

My adventure has started! I decided on a new company, accepted a new position, and secured a new place to live. I hired movers and am relocating items from one state while they are loading items in another. I think (who really knows?) I have placed stop orders for cable, internet, mail and start orders in the new place for these services. I believe I have most of my little ducklings in a row and am ready to get this show on the road. During this process, I have learned one thing. Moving is not for sissies.

When I started my new position, I made arrangements to stay in an Extended Stay motel located not too far from the properties and right next to the airport. When I arrived, no one else was around and the person who checked me in was fabulous. She printed off the directions for the properties for me so I could have a back-up to ones I hastily jotted down from my iPad. It was quiet, and I settled in for my two-week stay.

Staying in a motel reminded me of living in the dorm in college. Back in the day, you could take a little electric pot, place on the desk, cook Ramen noodles, a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, or even stir fry. It was a college student’s basic necessity. Nowadays, colleges do not allow this. Of course, in my day, you weren’t supposed to have alcohol either but I had a full bar in mine. (I was seventeen.) Room inspections? What is that? They never did that. I think the RAs actually do perform such things nowadays. Anyway, the motel had a microwave but every time I used it, it set off the smoke detector – which freaked out not only me but also the neighbors in the next rooms. I decided I wished I had my little electric pot from college.

Staying there in the evenings left me a lot of time to think and reflect on my past, present and future, which is always good for the soul. In fact, I need that kind of time frequently. This time of transition, as some others in my life, left me feeling lost. I don’t like that feeling. I started remembering the worst transition time in my life. The time when I was sick, fighting for my life and my husband told me he wished I would just go ahead and die. He was tired of this process. (It was a three to four year process, and I was only in the first few months of it when he said that.) The next day I filed for divorce. It wasn’t that he said it to me, but he said it within earshot of our son and I could not deal with that. I guess if he had said it to me in private we might still be together. That whole illness, treatment and getting better propelled me into the notion that I might actually make it out of that hell intact and stronger than ever.

Looking back, I marvel that my two children and I managed to succeed against all odds. Now, I am looking at all these new changes in my life and I can honestly say I am thrilled to be moving in a new direction. I know I can make a difference at these properties. I KNOW I have an Action Plan for progress. I KNOW I am here for a reason. I do not think I will be lost in this transition for long.