November 03, 2011

Real Expensive Estate

I love talking to other school mums when they ask “Where do you Live?” and I tell them where and then they say “That is such a lovely area!” and then I tell them ….. “We rent.”

Sad faces my way. “Aww that is ok.” They let me know, “It takes ages to find the right house.”

The majority of families in my area only rent when they are demolishing the back of their federation house to add an extra bedroom, a new kitchen and family room with bi-fold doors opening up onto a paved outdoor entertaining area which you pass through to get to the grass where the labradoodle craps.

The truth is that I live in Sydney and as I do not have a million dollars or an elderly rich sick aunty so we rent. We rented a dump about 5 years ago and have slowly turned it into less of a dump. But I love my street (Apart from Peter the Fattist) and when people come and visit they say “Lovely house!”  And I tell them “We rent...”

Again a sad face.

My mum is the best.  She says “Why wouldn’t you buy this place?” and I ask her to give me her cheque book.

So we rent.

But a few years ago I bought a cute art deco apartment. Two bedrooms plus a study. Ground floor and a garden. It is my plan to live there when I get super old and go crazy and breed cats.

I got a call this week from the Real Estate Agent. This can never be good news. Turns out my tenants are moving back to Sweden or Brisbane and we needed to re-let.  The thing that gobsmacked me was the amount of rent the agent was suggesting we re-lease it for.


Then she told me that she also had to put up MY rent so it turns out the whole exercise was fiscally neutral.

A few days later we met to go through the stack of applications that came in after only one showing, Oh my!  There were full presentation folders with pictures of happy couples, copies of bank statements and evidence of savings as well as flat out bribes.  And this is apparently normal for dwellings close to the city.

One application was from a young couple that were moving in with each other for the first time. Declined as I suspect they would not last.

One application from for a single accountant in his 40’s. Declined as I did not want that much internet porn being downloaded into my future house.

And there was at least a dozen more.  We whittled it down to 3 before I suggested the successful applicant could be decided by a series of challenges, each one being more dangerous and daring than the last.  The agent did not like this idea.  She picked up one of the applications and told me that the wife was a shrink and was expecting her first baby.

I took that as my sign and agreed that they could have the apartment. Mainly because I know she will be home a lot and I can call on her when I am having a meltdown.

Because I know where she lives. 

And I have a key.
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