Last Saturday, we went out hunting for a new apartment; we have to be out of this place by the end of the year, because the whole complex is being renovated.
So my wife printed out a bunch of good places from Westside Rentals, made a few calls, and we headed out last Saturday to see a few apartments (as well as scout out the neighborhoods they are in).
The second apartment we saw was in North Hollywood, and we thought we struck gold. The living room was smallish, but the two rooms upstairs were huge, with big walk-in closets. And it had a big two-car garage. The rent is around the upper limit of what we wanted to spend, but the neighborhood was perfect, and the lady who owns the place (Maria) seemed very nice.
We applied, and Monday she called, to tell us it's ours. We made arrangements to meet in a couple of weeks to sign the lease and drop a big cashier's check on her.
Cool. Great. A place to be excited about, and now we don't have to worry about finding a place, so that hassle is eliminated.
Not. So. Fast.
Today Maria calls, and says that her "partner" (someone she'd never mentioned before, and who I'm not entirely sure exists) thinks the apartment is worth more, and now the rent is $100 more.
Bait and switch much?
I told my wife when she came home for lunch, and she was pissed. Because though we wanted the place, and could probably swallow the extra bucks, who wants a landlord like this?
Particularly since -- get this -- the apartment has been sitting empty for a year because she was using it for storage.
So we reported her to Westside rentals, and this weekend we get to go out and search for another place in the same general area.
Sigh.
I hope her new higher-paying tenants turn out to be the tenants-from-hell. Because that would be karma.
Thursday, 6 December 2007
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