Friday, June 02, 2006

The Old Apartment - Part 2

So letting the broker show our apartment even though he didn't give enough notice turned out to be a good idea. The guy he showed it to (the one who said he had no intention of talking to the neighbors) told him that he wanted to take the place. As they left and I heard them talk about going back to the office to do the paperwork. Awesome, I thought, it was over and we wouldn't have to worry about having a parade of people coming through the place every day. The cockatiel isn't too fond of strangers (which still includes me really) so he would be happier this way too. The guy actually first stated out loud he wanted the place about three seconds after he stepped in the door (seriously, that's not an exaggeration). It probably has something to do with the fact that in our neighborhood, our roughly 400 square foot apartment is considered "big," something the broker even said while he was there. "This is one of the biggest apartments available on Beacon Hill," he said.

In case you needed any more evidence of how tight the Boston housing market is, this was it. Our apartment was on the market for less than a half of a day, about 7 hours.

I told the wife when she got home, after admitting that she was right and I was wrong about how soon brokers would start calling and that they would want to come over right away. Her annoyance with me for letting someone come to look at the apartment when it was, in her mind, messy was offset by her happiness that it was over and we didn't have to deal with it anymore.

The next morning my honey was still getting ready for work when the phone rang.

"Hi this is Marc from Red Brick Real Estate. I want to show your apartment today at 10:00."

I looked at the clock, it was 9:50.

I explained to him that it wasn't a good time and that we wanted 24 hours notice on any apartment showings. I figured the place would still be listed until the credit check and all that crap went through with the guy who wanted it, but I still wasn't going to let these brokers (did I mention before I think of brokers as scum sucking maggots?) push me around.

"24 hours notice?!?! John (our landlord) didn't tell me that," he replied.
"Ok," I said, "I don't know what it is about you New Englanders, I'm not from here, but where I come from (I think I made myself sick that this phrase actually left my mouth) people don't do this. Common courtesy says you can't expect to come over to my apartment in ten minutes."

He made some indignant grunting noises (I can't think of a good way to convey the sound, I spent the last twenty minutes trying to think of a way to spell them, with no luck), kind of like a child who isn't allowed to have a cookie.

He then said, "Then I want to show the place tomorrow at 10:00."
"That's no good." I said, "Nobody is going to be here tomorrow at that time. But I'll be here after 3:00."
"You mean you need to be there, too?"
"Yes."

I pretty much decided by this asshole's attitude that no way would I let him in my apartment without me there. I figure, act like a baby, get treated like a baby. I told him that the concern was the bird, who is not locked in a cage and is allowed free range of the apartment (hey, it's his place too).

He made some more of those grunting noises and then, "I'll call you back." Click.

He called back a few minutes later and said he wanted to show the place on Saturday (this was Thursday) at 10:00. This guy had a thing about 10:00 that I couldn't understand. I know that real estate brokers don't actually do any work for the obscene amount of money they make, but shit, he only works what, from 10:00 to 10:15?

I told him that was fine and then he said, "It probably won't matter because the place will probably be taken by then."
"That's probably true," I said, "the guy who looked at it yesterday said he was going to take the place."
"It's going to cost me a commission." (Presumably he meant my not letting him show the place in ten minutes was the cause)
"Well you know what? Your commission is not my problem."
"You see, the way it works on Beacon Hill is that people stop by the office and want to look at places and we just swing by and show them."
"Well how it 'works' on Beacon Hill is also not my problem. This is my apartment until the end of July and I make the rules. My rights, by law (more proof brokers are useless, they are supposed to be the ones that know rental law) are that you have to give me 24-48 hours notice if you want to show my place."

I wanted to add the words, "you stupid asshole" at the end of the last sentence but I kept it at a mature level. I'm sure that comes as a surprise to everyone.

The thing that bugs me about twats like this guy is that he depends on people not knowing their rights and he tries his best to bully them. Well fuck that, I don't let people walk on me. This attitude is probably even more pronounced since I got married. My wife was still drying her hair and in her underwear that morning. Now, people seeing my hot lady in her skivvies and seeing how lucky I am doesn't really bother me, but she's not really into that. So I wasn't going to let her get rushed or pressured in her own home. There is some sort of weird primal male thing that I always thought was bullshit, but there might actually be something to it. Whenever anyone does anything to fuck with my wife I want to take a baseball bat to their heads. And that's on top of the fact that I already hate dickheads like this guy.

Anyway, my landlord called the guy just a couple of hours later to tell him the place had been taken.

The prick never called back to thank me for saving him from wasting his time showing the place.

2 comments:

Joe said...

Can I just say that, misogyny, aside, I love calling someone a "twat".

the beige one said...

the british use the word "cunt" almost as a pet name...