Okay, I rent a huge house and sublet out to five rotating ‘boarders’ – mostly students. It’s a good gig when everything goes smoothly.
The downside is, of course, that I have to pay the difference for any vacancies that I have on the first. Usually, I can avoid it, but sometimes stuff happens. (Last year, schedules came together a bit funny and I had three rooms to fill for January first – and you know how everyone likes to plan to move on New Years Day. Eeesh.)
Anyway, I got a bit of a curve ball this morning in the form of a call from one of my boarders. He’s a great guy – and one of the more permanent fixtures. Ideal tenant, really. Works nights, practically invisble. Pays on time, every time. Quiet. Really quiet.
Quiet enough that I was caught totally off guard when he told me he was calling from Edmonton. He went out to line up a job there, it worked out, and he was calling to let me know that he can’t be arsed to come collect his stuff.
We had a friendly conversation. No point in griping, I figure. Upshot, I keep the security deposit (naturally) and can “have” anything he’s left in the room. I put a good face on this because I like the guy.
I rent furnished rooms. I expect to keep whatever’s in there. I don’t want to have to take the trouble of disposing of clothes that he couldn’t be bothered to take with him.
Anyway, I wish him well, offer congratulations on finding what is by his account a rewarding new job, and tell him not to worry about anything. Then I hang up the phone and curse. This means I have to take $400 out of my May budget – and pay to fix the room up, buy advertising, count on going over my meagre allotment of cell-phone minutes, all that stuff. Oh yeah, and spend a bunch of time dealing with all this stuff instead of working. I guess it is working, after a fashion, but I prefer not to have to do it.
So I get the key to his room and get in there to size up how difficult it’s going to be to make it ready to show in the next couple of days.
I can’t help but be pleased with some of the stuff I’ve “inherited.”
First and foremost, a relatively decent computer. Duron 966Mhz, with a DVD burner, a nice 21" flat-screen monitor and a combination scanner/printer. Score! It’s better than what I’m running now, anyway. I can migrate some of my better peripherals into the ‘new’ tower and set my old box up in a common area as another access point for folks in the house that don’t have their own computers.
There’s also a little 14" TV that can stay in the room as part of the furnishings. That adds value. Supah. A little portable stereo. I’ll probably hawk that, along with the stacks and stacks of hip-hop CDs. There’s a VCR that will be good in the downstairs livingroom.
Tools. Tools are good. Also, a decent set of dumbbells, just like the set I’ve been procrastinating on getting for beside my desk for over a year.
Hey! A quarter-ounce of a certain aromatic herb that will make cleaning and repainting the room less of a drag. Uh, lavender. Yeah. Lavender.
Next to all that, the junk doesn’t seem quite so bad. Big Brothers will be happy to take away all the clothes. There is a remarkable stack of flats of empty Budweiser bottles. That’s kind of a hassle. Maybe if I set a box out at a time the alley scavengers will take 'em away.
Anyway, I’m kind of conflicted. I do hate to have to scramble. If I get it sorted and get someone in by the fifteenth, it’ll be more-or-less even, financially, though. It may be possible.
On the other hand, “free” stuff! Yay!
I guess I should stop procrastinating and start cleaning that room now. Rrrrgh.