Dear Potential Customer,
When leaving a message for me, please do not assume I have magical powers and can sense your number telepathically, especially considering that my phone was OFF and went directly to voicemail when you called. Please take five seconds to leave your number.
Please do not mumble. Slow, clear speech is appreciated. Especially if you have an accent. God Bless America and all of that, but the fact is I sometimes cannot understand you. Please speak clearly to at least give me a shot at comprehending your words.
I am not interested in listening to your life story, dissertations on your real estate needs, or tales of woe. If you start to ramble, your message will promptly be deleted.
Finally, one message is really enough. I don't need to be reminded that I haven't returned your call yet. Take a number and get in line. You're not alone.
Sincerely,
Your Friendly Local Real Estate Agent
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Damn Progress
Jackhammers, jackhammers, everywhere. For the past few weekdays, I've been waking up to the sound of jackhammers outside my building. Lovely. I know they're "just doing their job," but the guys don't even have the courtesy to start hammering away after 8 a.m. They start at 7-something, maybe earlier. Earplugs only partially help. It's bad enough living with the noise. Try marketing an apartment when such construction is going on all around. Not easy, trust me.
About two or three avenues over, there is a new development going up, and that racket can be heard at all hours as well. Yet another new develpment was making our lives at the office miserable for a few months. And I'll post another day on that behemoth condo that is going up at the top of Central Park in Harlem. It's just gross to look at. Doesn't fit the scale of the neighborhood one bit. How did this happen? Sometimes I hate progress.
I especially hate it when upon flipping on NY1, I learn that four buildings in Brooklyn are slated to be demolished today, despite the fact that the stupid stadium and redevelopment project doesn't have an offical "go" from whoever decides such things. The possibility that these buildings will be knocked down and the land will sit vacant while the development plans languish is a real one. Please don't even get me started on that wretched Atlantic Yards scheme in Brooklyn. Arrogance, greed, and a lack of foresight come to mind. It's enough to make you want to crawl back into bed, if only you could shut your eyes and not hear and feel the horrible pounding of jackhammers.
About two or three avenues over, there is a new development going up, and that racket can be heard at all hours as well. Yet another new develpment was making our lives at the office miserable for a few months. And I'll post another day on that behemoth condo that is going up at the top of Central Park in Harlem. It's just gross to look at. Doesn't fit the scale of the neighborhood one bit. How did this happen? Sometimes I hate progress.
I especially hate it when upon flipping on NY1, I learn that four buildings in Brooklyn are slated to be demolished today, despite the fact that the stupid stadium and redevelopment project doesn't have an offical "go" from whoever decides such things. The possibility that these buildings will be knocked down and the land will sit vacant while the development plans languish is a real one. Please don't even get me started on that wretched Atlantic Yards scheme in Brooklyn. Arrogance, greed, and a lack of foresight come to mind. It's enough to make you want to crawl back into bed, if only you could shut your eyes and not hear and feel the horrible pounding of jackhammers.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Nice Try , But There is a Fee
Sorry for being MIA. I have been fighting a cold, had company in town, and skipped town for a few days. Now I'm back in commission just in time to file my tax return. Oh joy.
Broker fees are an inevitablity of renting an apartment in New York City. Even if you somehow luck into an apartment and don't pay a fee, you will likely see several places that require one. Most of your friends will pay the dreaded brokers' fee. Don't feel bad--even brokers often pay the dreaded broker's fee.
Why? Well, the laws are written in such a way that they favor tenants. Let's say I decide to stop paying rent. It will take my landlord six months to a year to be legally rid of me. He can't just lock me out. He has to go through the housing court system, which takes awhile.
So renters, in essence, are paying their brokers to perform due diligence for the landlords. If it sounds screwed up, it kinda is. Landlords rarely pay brokers' fees on residential rentals. They don't have to--the laws of supply and demand show that housing in NYC is in enough demand that renters will pay fees. We are getting paid by you to vet your application, run your credit, and essentially verify that you aren't a deadbeat or a deadbeat-in-training. That's also why so many apartment applications require so much paperwork: tax returns, bank statements, employment verification letters, and so on.
Many people bitch about this when they first start apartment hunting here.
"Why is there so much paperwork? It's easier to get a mortgage back home than it is to rent a crummy apartment here," some say.
Well, I can't disagree. Look at it this way--once you're done with this place, securing housing anywhere else in the U.S., with the possible exception of San Francisco, will feel incredibly easy.
None of these realities stop clients from sometimes trying to talk me out of my own payday.
A recent example:
"I really like this place. There's no fee on it, right?"
"There is definitely a fee. I don't post "No Fee" ads and I mentioned the fee to you on the phone when we made this appointment."
The guy looks defeated.
I shrug and say, "Nice try."
We both laugh. He doesn't rent it, but someone else who sees it after him does.
Supply and demand, folks.
Broker fees are an inevitablity of renting an apartment in New York City. Even if you somehow luck into an apartment and don't pay a fee, you will likely see several places that require one. Most of your friends will pay the dreaded brokers' fee. Don't feel bad--even brokers often pay the dreaded broker's fee.
Why? Well, the laws are written in such a way that they favor tenants. Let's say I decide to stop paying rent. It will take my landlord six months to a year to be legally rid of me. He can't just lock me out. He has to go through the housing court system, which takes awhile.
So renters, in essence, are paying their brokers to perform due diligence for the landlords. If it sounds screwed up, it kinda is. Landlords rarely pay brokers' fees on residential rentals. They don't have to--the laws of supply and demand show that housing in NYC is in enough demand that renters will pay fees. We are getting paid by you to vet your application, run your credit, and essentially verify that you aren't a deadbeat or a deadbeat-in-training. That's also why so many apartment applications require so much paperwork: tax returns, bank statements, employment verification letters, and so on.
Many people bitch about this when they first start apartment hunting here.
"Why is there so much paperwork? It's easier to get a mortgage back home than it is to rent a crummy apartment here," some say.
Well, I can't disagree. Look at it this way--once you're done with this place, securing housing anywhere else in the U.S., with the possible exception of San Francisco, will feel incredibly easy.
None of these realities stop clients from sometimes trying to talk me out of my own payday.
A recent example:
"I really like this place. There's no fee on it, right?"
"There is definitely a fee. I don't post "No Fee" ads and I mentioned the fee to you on the phone when we made this appointment."
The guy looks defeated.
I shrug and say, "Nice try."
We both laugh. He doesn't rent it, but someone else who sees it after him does.
Supply and demand, folks.
Monday, April 2, 2007
Courtesy Call (Or a Lack Thereof)
This broker rides my ass for two weeks. Leaves long messages, keeps me on the phone chatting. I try to be polite, but soon enough I am dodging her calls. I tell her not to call me; that I’ll call her. Which is fair enough . . .I don’t yet have access to the space she claims her client is so eager to see. So there’s no reason for us to talk until I do have access.
It’s not like I enjoy talking to her, plus there is absolutely nothing to say until I have keys and can make an appointment for her and her client. She sounds like the stereotypical New York City Broker: thick local accent, a bit abrupt, very pushy and probably well over 40. I’ll be she smokes, too. I could be wrong, but she just sounds that way.
She gets snippy with me when I don’t call her to tell her there’s no news. Apparently she feels that leaving me multiple messages will change things, which it won’t. Finally I get access to the space. She’s very insistent on a morning appointment—the earlier the better because this "wonderful" client can only see things in the morning. Thinking to myself that I don’t get out of bed for early appointments, especially not for pushy a-holes like this broad, I offer her 10:30 one morning and she says fine. I’m glad this place is only about a seven-minute walk from my apartment.
So I get there. Soon enough I’m wishing the super would hurry and show up. It’s a cold morning. This place is in between a church and a liquor store in Harlem. Apparently the church has some outreach program, and all of its recipients are milling around outside waiting for the doors to open. Some of them cruise by me and get a bit too close as they’re asking for my spare change. Some of them start arguing loudly with each other. Uncomfortable, much?
Five minutes pass, then ten. Nobody but me and the locals in front of this storefront. This woman who was so “generous” with her phone calls to me before doesn’t bother to call me and say she and her amazing client are running late. I call this broker. She doesn’t pick up.
The super shows up. We look at the place, and still this winner of a broker hasn’t shown up or even bothered with a “Sorry, we’re running late” type of courtesy call. I call again. No answer. Fine. It’s been well over 20 minutes, so I bid the super farewell and head off to start the rest of my day. I leave her a message telling her I’m leaving and that it’s really too bad—it’s a nice, roomy space and she won’t get to see it. I wish her good luck.
A couple of minutes later, she calls. They’re on Broadway, which is quite a few avenues from where I am. She asks again where it is. I’ve already told her the exact location, down to “it’s between a church and a liquor store on the west side of the avenue—you can’t miss it” a dozen times. She says they’ll be right over. No apologies, mind you. So I start walking back to the spot, and who should call just as I get there? Yes, it’s her. The client doesn’t like the neighborhood, so we can just call the whole thing off, she tells me.
The first time or two something like this happens to you in real estate, you’re surprised, or at least I was. I was raised to value common courtesy and other people’s time, but apparently not everyone was. OR, common courtesy and time are only valuable if it’s THEIRS being called into question and/or violated in some way. I decide to call this bitch out on her behavior.
When she tells me they won’t make it, I start laughing at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You made such a big deal of this, called me all the time, getting upset when I didn’t call you back immediately, and now you couldn’t even be bothered with a call to let me know you were running late. I’m sorry, but I just find that funny.”
She doesn’t have much to say besides a lame, “Sorry.” The fact that I practically had to force it out of her speaks volumes.
“I’ll call you later?” she offers,
“No, thanks,” I say. “In fact, please don’t.”
Thankfully, she never did.
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