Ironic, Illegal, Icy

I am sitting at my desk, which I've situated beneath the 42"-square skylight that attracted me to this apartment, contemplating the irony of my housing choice.

One reason I am renting is to take a breather from the responsibilities - real and imagined - of owning a property, especially after having fixed up and maintained a three family dwelling for more years than I expected. I decided to rent in order to relax, in order to not feel the weight of decisions that come about with ownership, in order to not feel my internal pressure to create a perfectly decorated space, in order to not be in charge of contractors.

I rented this place after taking a very quick look at it to ascertain: Did I like the layout? Does it get enough light? Was it in good condition? Did I like the location? Did I get a good feeling about the landlord? Was the rent appropriate?

Why Yes to all! That's why I am here.

What I failed to notice (in addition to not seeing the paint colors!) was that neither the bedroom, the bathroom nor the kitchen have a heat source. Of course, on a hot day in the middle of August, verifying the existence and whereabouts of radiators was not my top priority when checking out this place. It wouldn't occur to most people that this man - a real estate lawyer, developer and landlord - would even show a place that lacked a heated bedroom. Having rented out apartments before, I know that the lack of radiators in such key places is, shall we say, a bit illegal. I also know that getting heat into converted third floors can be a challenge.

I happen to like this apartment and the owner, so I am not going to raise a huge fuss. At least not yet. But, rather than experiencing a carefree rental I've been sending the owner e-mails with instructions for what his handyman needs to do to begin to resolve the situation. I've asked that he insulate the hot water pipes that run, through my stairwell, to this apartment so that I am not paying for heat to disappear before it's made the arduous climb from the basement to the two radiators that do exist up here (in the living room and in the entry hall). And I've asked that an electrician install a heat lamp in the bathroom. Freezing on the toilet in the morning is an adventure when camping, but inexcusable at home. The landlord has indicated that he'll send someone over to take care of these things. Electrician #1 did not contact me so now I am waiting for someone else.

For now, that should satisfy, although it still leaves me in a position of dealing with contractors, a position I hoped to avoid by renting. And I'd like to take some more time to develop a strategy for addressing the lack of heat in my bedroom. I'm not interested in raising hell over it, but I might be willing to not notify the authorities in exchange for, say, a rent reduction that would cover the cost of keeping an electric space heater. Yes, in this case I would not refuse hush money. At the moment I am leaning towards being pragmatic rather than self-righteously pointing fingers. I will see how I feel (assuming I haven't gone numb) when the outdoor temps get really icy.

Something to contemplate.

Irritation

I am looking for a place to live.

I hate looking for a place to live.

I don't hate looking at places, I hate dealing with so-called real estate "professionals".

They advertise an apartment. It looks appealing. I call to inquire about that particular apartment.

"So, what are you looking for?" they ask, wanting to know the neighborhood or town I want to live in, the number of bedrooms, the rent I am willing to pay.

"I am looking for information on the apartment you advertised," I reply, trying to keep my irritation in check. "Is it still available?"

"Can you tell me what you are looking for?" they persist.

"I am looking for something that matches the description of the apartment you advertised," I seethe.

We are at a standoff.

A friend has loaned me a tape about "going with the flow", and clearly I am not doing that with these rental agents, whose help I need unless I can find someone to rent from directly. I hate the bait and switch tactics they use, advertising one apartment only to show you others, and the fact that many apartments are listed by several agencies, each employing a different highly creative writer to describe these places, making it hard to figure out what you've already seen. For example, I was shown an absolute cave of a 1-bedroom apartment on a ground floor of a brownstone on Beacon Street, across the street from my synagogue. The location, location, location was perfect, perfect, perfect, but the unit itself was dark and smelly with paint chips dangling precariously from the living room ceiling. A few days later I saw another ad for the same place touting its "retro screen door" (e.g. piece of crap on hinges that needs to be replaced!). I have to admit, part of me admired the genius of the 20-something year old rental agent who coined that phrase; at least this person was thinking outside the box and possibly having some fun.

My irritation occasionally extends to myself for forgetting about the "art" of renting and selling real estate, of which I've done both, and how you can't believe anything that you read about a piece of property. Except, of course, that everything I ever wrote about the apartments I used to rent, and then sold, was accurate, and my naive self wants to believe what it reads.

But my irritation turns to wrath when I encounter incompetent real estate agents, grown ups - not recent college graduates - who have licenses and, me thinks, are supposed to know most things about the properties they are listing and showing. Earlier today I drove over to Brookline to check out a non-astronomically priced 1-br condominium, just to see. The agent who hosted the open house was very attractive and pleasant yet wasn't able to tell me what similar apartments in that building rent for. Considering that most of the units in the association are rented out, I figured she might have done her homework. But she, and many other agents who do open houses, are like gameshow hosts and hostesses who look pretty while pointing out the features of the property or giving suggestions on how to renovate it, as if you'll have extra money on hand after closing. If you want the facts, you have to follow up with a phone call, during which time they'll ask you what you are looking for......