News, When your landlord lives upstairs. (apartment, lease, tenants, renter)
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It can be a renter's dream (personal attention, prompt repairs) or a nightmare (too much and too personal attention). Here's what to know before moving into that basement apartment.
When I read links such as these I realize how many people with an aptitude for writing actually make their living penning "journalistic" pieces such as this which are eagerly gobbled up by readers. At almost 65 years old such pieces make me realize that, when and if I decide to give up my current occupation, there is room for me to make ends meet in another venue which I hadn't actually considered up until now. Cheers!
So it won't win a pulitzer ... but the message is still worth paying attention to. I lived in an upstairs apartment in an old Victorian while my landlords lived both downstairs and across the hall. It quickly became an absolute nightmare ... and who could we complain to? Nobody. Never again!
I used to live in the same building as my LL, and she was great. We worked in the same area, and once a week she would drive me there (we were not on the same schedule the other days). One day I had an electrical problem over the weekend, (all electrical appliances - meaning no heat, no possibility to cook etc), and she offered me shelter for the whole weekend!
But I understand it can be hell when the LL is not nice...
I wouldn't rent from someone I didn't think I could get along with regardless of where they lived in proximity to me. Some people are jerks and you can pretty much tell when you meet them.
Not necessarily. When we met our terrible landlords, they were really nice. The husband was a carpenter and showed me some improvements to the house that he was working on. The mom was a SAHM and the kids were (are) incredibly smart and sweet, so that seemed great. The apartment itself was really nice. We talked with them several times and they stressed how much they wanted quiet people, and they weren't sure since we were college students. We're quiet homebodies, so we promised all that.
Riiiiight.
About two months after we moved in, the problems started. After a third morning/day/night in a row of our furniture shaking and having to scream at each other to talk because their stereo was on so loud, we called. Of course they couldn't hear the phone ringing. Later that night, after they finally turned it off, we called again. Told them how not only conversation and normal living was really difficult, but we also couldn't study ... we were told to go to the library *click* ... that was the beginning of our problems, including entering without notification or permission, turning off our heat, refusing to maintain the driveway during snow/ice season (which was their responsibility), constant television/stereo/screaming/'other' noises, dealing with garbage, their dog poop, rotting food, and so on, strewn about the lawn all the time, and even bodily threats to both us and our dog. We were told that it was *their* house and we were only *allowed* there because of their generosity (nevermind the $800/month and the whole binding contract thing).
Not necessarily. When we met our terrible landlords, they were really nice. The husband was a carpenter and showed me some improvements to the house that he was working on. The mom was a SAHM and the kids were (are) incredibly smart and sweet, so that seemed great. The apartment itself was really nice. We talked with them several times and they stressed how much they wanted quiet people, and they weren't sure since we were college students. We're quiet homebodies, so we promised all that.
Riiiiight.
About two months after we moved in, the problems started. After a third morning/day/night in a row of our furniture shaking and having to scream at each other to talk because their stereo was on so loud, we called. Of course they couldn't hear the phone ringing. Later that night, after they finally turned it off, we called again. Told them how not only conversation and normal living was really difficult, but we also couldn't study ... we were told to go to the library *click* ... that was the beginning of our problems, including entering without notification or permission, turning off our heat, refusing to maintain the driveway during snow/ice season (which was their responsibility), constant television/stereo/screaming/'other' noises, dealing with garbage, their dog poop, rotting food, and so on, strewn about the lawn all the time, and even bodily threats to both us and our dog. We were told that it was *their* house and we were only *allowed* there because of their generosity (nevermind the $800/month and the whole binding contract thing).
Yeah. Never again.
Lack of quiet enjoyment -- lease breaking potential.
All of that was lease-breaking potential, but we were broke. This was in a tiny town where most of the decent-to-nice rentals were snatched up by professors and administration at our college for prices way out of our range. The rest of the rentals in town were filthy with rodent and bug problems, and wouldn't allow dogs. We searched everywhere and called every landlord in town and real estate agencies in the county, and couldn't find anything we could afford. We had no car, so living in a different town wasn't an option (rural Vermont, no useful public transit). It just got to the point where we were counting down the days until we could leave ... which, apparently, even with a 60 day notice, wasn't enough time for them to find new tenants. Guess they burned too many bridges!
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