As the regular readers of Driftwood know, I write this column for informational purposes only. It has always been the goal of this column to be informative. In that spirit, I have compiled a little two-part "landlord to tenant/prospective tenant" translation guide and a few other helpful hints for renting an apartment. I am in a unique position to do this, for in the past year, I have lived in six different locations,
with seven separate roommates, three cats, a snake, a large dog, a bird, an Egyptian
fruit bat and several different beautiful girls - one of whom was naked ALL THE TIME.
During this period, I have come to understand certain technical terms that landowners use when discussing property with those who rent from them. For example, the apartment I was in for four months had, according to the owner, a "plumbing problem." That, of course, meant that there was no toilet at all. I'm not making this up. There was a hole in the floor where a toilet had at one time been, but the actual toilet itself had long since vanished. There was still toilet paper though, which always worried me somehow. While, at first, this may seem like more than a little bit of a "plumbing problem," it turned out that I had completely misdiagnosed the big hole in the floor where the toilet had been. It actually wasn't the problem at all. The actual problem was the fact that water poured in through the bathroom ceiling at an alarming rate whenever someone upstairs took a bath or shower, or shaved, cleaned their hands, sneezed, brushed their teeth, read a book or newspaper, washed their face ... well you get the idea - it was pretty constant. The amount of water was enough to flood the bathroom with over an inch of water. Well, I don't know if you have figured out what happened next, but that's when I realized why there was no toilet: it had been removed by some industrious handyman genius so that the flood water would drain into the hole, thus solving the problem. So you see, having no toilet wasn't the problem, but the solution. (I am not making up one single word of this.)
Actually the word "fix" in all its tenses, when used by a landowner, frequently doesn't mean nearly the same thing that you might think it means. For example, while renting a different apartment from the same landlord, a maintenance man "fixed" my clogged sink by removing the section of pipe that contained the clog.
And while it is true that water drained out of the sink very quickly after that, it is equally true that the water drained onto the bathroom floor. The maintenance man never returned.
On a different occasion (and I have already reported this in my column, but it bears repeating) a landlord "fixed" my badly leaking air conditioner. I had explained to him that water from the air conditioner was leaking on the inside of my apartment. In fact, it was not so much leaking as it was pouring into my apartment, ruining the carpet and floor, as well , as causing an unbearable smell. I further I explained that the flow was so great that the bucket I: d begun using to catch the water would be full to overflowing within I two hours, making it impossible for me to even get a full night's sleep. One day, while I was at work, the landlord reported to me that he'd "fixed" the problem. Know what he did? He gave me a bigger bucket.
Alright. That's it for part one, but come back next week for part two, in which I will show you the tell-tale signs of a bad apartment and landlord.
Questions, advice or comments? E-mail Daniel Slate at [email protected]
with seven separate roommates, three cats, a snake, a large dog, a bird, an Egyptian
fruit bat and several different beautiful girls - one of whom was naked ALL THE TIME.
During this period, I have come to understand certain technical terms that landowners use when discussing property with those who rent from them. For example, the apartment I was in for four months had, according to the owner, a "plumbing problem." That, of course, meant that there was no toilet at all. I'm not making this up. There was a hole in the floor where a toilet had at one time been, but the actual toilet itself had long since vanished. There was still toilet paper though, which always worried me somehow. While, at first, this may seem like more than a little bit of a "plumbing problem," it turned out that I had completely misdiagnosed the big hole in the floor where the toilet had been. It actually wasn't the problem at all. The actual problem was the fact that water poured in through the bathroom ceiling at an alarming rate whenever someone upstairs took a bath or shower, or shaved, cleaned their hands, sneezed, brushed their teeth, read a book or newspaper, washed their face ... well you get the idea - it was pretty constant. The amount of water was enough to flood the bathroom with over an inch of water. Well, I don't know if you have figured out what happened next, but that's when I realized why there was no toilet: it had been removed by some industrious handyman genius so that the flood water would drain into the hole, thus solving the problem. So you see, having no toilet wasn't the problem, but the solution. (I am not making up one single word of this.)
Actually the word "fix" in all its tenses, when used by a landowner, frequently doesn't mean nearly the same thing that you might think it means. For example, while renting a different apartment from the same landlord, a maintenance man "fixed" my clogged sink by removing the section of pipe that contained the clog.
And while it is true that water drained out of the sink very quickly after that, it is equally true that the water drained onto the bathroom floor. The maintenance man never returned.
On a different occasion (and I have already reported this in my column, but it bears repeating) a landlord "fixed" my badly leaking air conditioner. I had explained to him that water from the air conditioner was leaking on the inside of my apartment. In fact, it was not so much leaking as it was pouring into my apartment, ruining the carpet and floor, as well , as causing an unbearable smell. I further I explained that the flow was so great that the bucket I: d begun using to catch the water would be full to overflowing within I two hours, making it impossible for me to even get a full night's sleep. One day, while I was at work, the landlord reported to me that he'd "fixed" the problem. Know what he did? He gave me a bigger bucket.
Alright. That's it for part one, but come back next week for part two, in which I will show you the tell-tale signs of a bad apartment and landlord.
Questions, advice or comments? E-mail Daniel Slate at [email protected]