Adventures in Landlording

The call came on the same day that I sent the tenants their thirty day notices to vacate the premises by the end of the month. It was from Julie, and she had a compliant.

"The air conditioning has died. It's really hot in here."

My girlfriend and I had just returned from a well-deserved ten day vacation in Greece, and were as relaxed and happy as we had ever been. I was ready to finally get down to the business of selling the place.

Arlington was experiencing a massive heat wave, and it was unseasonably hot for late May. In the span of two days, the temperature had risen from a sane 80 degrees to a scorching 100 degrees, and the thirteen year old air conditioning had finally had enough. The timing, as always, was perfect.

Christine, in a typical moment of clarity and understanding, began shooting emails and phone calls in rapid succession. One representative email that came across as a subtle, understated treat calmly asked (caps lock emphasis is not mine):

"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FIX THE AIR CONDITIONER?!?!?! MY DOG IS ACTING CRAZY AND MY MEDICATION HAS MELTED!!"

This particular email came after one day of no air conditioning, but the idea of Christine off her medications (which I didn't realize she was taking before this incident) was obviously a matter of concern to myself and the two other tenants. Unfortunately, every air conditioner in Northern Virginia had simultaneously decided to go on strike on that particular day. Needless to say, the HVAC repairmen of the area were in high demand.

The house was still under warranty, so I called the warranty company's toll-free number to set up an appointment to have the air conditioner repaired. Naivety in tow, I told my tenants (and myself) that I should be able to get a repairman out in a day or two. When I called, the warranty company put me on hold because all lines were busy and they appreciated my business. Expecting this outcome, I began playing Solitaire on my computer (at work) to pass the time. I figured, as usual, it would take a good five minutes or so to be connected.

By the time I was down $980 in my Solitaire game, I glanced over at the timer on the LCD display of the phone. Evidently, I had been on hold for forty-eight minutes. It was then that I realized that the fifteen second clip of contemporary jazz that had repeated almost a hundred times over the receiver would be permanently stuck in my head until either a new annoying tone or a sharp knife penetrated my cranium. I promptly hung up in disgust.

I sat at my desk pondering my options. I could call the warranty company again, and just accept the fact that I would spend the remainder of the day on hold with them. I could independently call an HVAC company and hope that the warranty company accepted whoever I pick. Or, I could jump out my office window and end it all right then and there. Reluctantly, I went with option two.

After finally reaching a suitable HVAC repairman and explaining the situation to them, I was told, much to my delight, that they would be able to come out to assess the situation in approximately one week. I asked if they could come out sooner, since my tenants were suffering without their cool air and crazy pills. They said they could not come out any sooner. They suggested that I get my air conditioning unit serviced during the "off-season" when it wasn't so busy. I thanked them for the suggestion.

Meanwhile, I realized that I would have to eventually brave the contemporary jazz again so I could submit this HVAC company to the warranty emperors to receive the thumbs-up or thumbs-down. I called them, this time from my cell phone rather than my work phone, at around 3:30 PM. At around 5:00 PM, after I had gotten home, an actual person answered the line. At times like this, it can be difficult to tread the fine line between anger at customer service incompetence and sensitivity to the fact that these same people hold the solution to your problem in their hands. I tried to walk this line by ranting for a good five minutes at the poor fellow who was unlucky enough to connect to me, and then explaining my problem. It turns out this is the opposite order of conversation that these customer service types prefer. I was told to call back tomorrow, since they would not be able to connect me to a company this late. They suggested calling earlier, before 5:00 PM, next time. Feeling satisfied, I agreed, thanked him, hung up the phone, and, turning into the Incredible Hulk, went on a rampage of downtown Alexandria, throwing cars and punching through tavern walls. Hulk smash, indeed.

The warranty company agreed to accept the HVAC company, but required that they call before performing any work. They had to not only accept the HVAC company, but also the diagnosis they made and the work they planned to do. When the HVAC repairman came out to the house - one week later than I had promised the tenants - the diagnosis was simple: the air conditioning unit had to be completely replaced. The repairman - a Yankees fan, much to my disgust - informed me that while they could start replacing parts, there was no guarantee that whatever they did would work, but they would still have to charge me for the part and labor. It would be easier, he said, just to replace the whole unit. Plus, since I was selling the place anyway, I could bump up the price of the house and recover the cost of the unit that way. What a deal!

Looking distressed and apologetic, the repairman sullenly told me that the unit would probably cost around $7000 and would most likely require the use of a crane, since the outside unit was up on the balcony. This, of course, would be at an additional cost, and would also need the proper permits and permission from the condominium association. After making some lewd comments about Julie and what he'd like to do to her, the repairman then let me know that he could probably get me a unit for around $3000, but he'd have to make some calls. Not having any qualms about whatever shady deals he wanted to make, I immediately agreed, and said if they had to steal it from an old lady, I'd still take it. Such was my sense of immediacy and despair. He made a few calls, smiled at me, and informed me that they had a unit "cheap" for $5000. I asked about the $3000 deal he had mentioned five minutes earlier. He said he couldn't do it that low, and I could recover the cost when I sold the house. The HVAC repairman appeared to have a different view of the current housing market than most experts, but, having no other viable options, I agreed to the replacement.

Thankfully, the HVAC replacement did not necessitate a crane (just some scrapes and dents in the walls). The warranty company agreed to pay $625 (minus the $85 co-pay) of the $5300 that the new unit cost me. The HVAC repairman highly suggested that I make a play for Julie, my "hot tenant." After leaving, I realized he had left his Yankees cap in the utility room.

After the long heat epidemic, the weather gods smiled on the Arlington area and provided some horrific thunderstorms to cool the suffering masses. For three days straight, sheets of rain pounded the area, lowering the temperatures but causing flooding to large areas of Arlington, Alexandria, and Washington, D.C. The townhome next to the one my girlfriend and I rented experienced severe flooding in their basement - right after the owner had replaced the carpet and put the place up for sale. I thanked my lucky stars that my rental unit, which I was about to place on the market, rested comfortably on top of a hill.

Not long after the rains stopped, I received a call. It was from Julie, and she had a complaint.

"My ceiling is leaking pretty badly."