I can’t imagine how they don’t have to come in at least once every few months, frankly. Even if things are fine, make something up! You have to check on the a/c, the heat, make sure the beams are straight, anything. Make something up so that you’re sure your place isn’t being trashed.
no place I’ve ever rented has had a landlord that came to check up regularly. We’ve lived in this place for just over a year and the landlord came over once to lend us his ladder, at our request, but that’s it.
Yeah, sorry but no landlord has ever just come into a place I lived just to check up on it. The super comes when requested or if there *actually *are repairs that need to be done (like a couple months ago when they were repainting the fire escapes and fixing up the exteriors of the building.)
At the risk of pathologizing what might be perfectly normal, a super-clean house can also indicate disordered behaviour - compulsive cleaning.
I have a job that involves going into other people’s houses. One thing that struck me by surprise was seeing freshly washed dishes, air drying next to the kitchen sink. Mainly because the dishes themselves were horrible, cracked, stained, random mugs, cups and plates. Things that belong in the trash, not things deserving of such care.
Plus, the house was pretty much made of mud. But the dishes were washed.
Maybe those are the only dishes they have? I’m sure it pains them deeply that their dishes don’t meet your standards, but it’s better to have stained, cracked, etc. dishes, than no dishes, which is what they might well have if they throw those dishes into the trash.
Real estate. I’ve seen everything from Eddie Murphy’s mansion to houses that should be nuked out of existance. One guy had bloody needles and bags of whie powder all over the joint.
Well thank you Ms Obvious!
Did you miss the part where their house is made out of MUD?? Like MUD and STRAW? The way things were built in biblical days, pretty much. It is an odd juxtaposition of clean, air drying dishes set in a kitchen with no floor. It has nothing to do with my standards. Their whole fucking country doesn’t meet my standards. Do you think I give two fucks about her stupid ass dishes?
It’s MsWhatsit, actually, although if I ever change my user name, I’m totally going with Ms Obvious.
I am just a little confused about why you are so astonished that someone would want to wash their dishes. What, just because your house is made of mud and straw, you want to leave your food filth all over your dishes?
Also, I actually do think that you give two fucks (maybe only one fuck; quantitative analysis of number of fucks given is difficult when done via the Internet) about her dishes, considering that you bothered to post about them in a thread.
None of their neighbors had dishes air drying on the kitchen sink. None of them!
Believe it or not, some people and some cultures DO live in filth. Some people wash nothing but their feet for months on end. Maybe it would surprise you that many people in that village DIDN’T bother to wash their dishes and leave them neatly on the kitchen counter to air dry all nice and neat on a little dish towel. And by the way, the dish towel was fucking filthy and stained and nasty. Add the dirt floor, and oh, you have the making of an image that will last a lifetime.
It’s not that I care about her dishes. It was the overall peculiarity of the whole thing.
Not quite as the image of a kid’s big wheel toy and soccer ball sitting in a pool of blood because the entire patio is covered in what is leaking out of the child’s older brother. I mean, talk about a juxtaposition. Children toys, youth and innocence, set against a floor of pure blood.
Now, do I give a fuck about the kids stupid ass toys? No. Do I find seeing something like that in someone else’s house remarkable enough to mention on a message board? Yes. Yes, I do.
Some things catch you by surprise and make you take a step back and think. Recently washed, broken dishes in a filthy, disgusting house and kids toys parked in a bath of blood are two such things.
Get over yourself.
Aaaaaand…the thread is pronounced dead.
Because of DEAD CHILDREN. Lying in POOLS OF BLOOD. Which you clearly care nothing about! Hmph.
I wonder if the pools of blood were at least in little plastic swimming pools.
My job involves spending a lot of time in people’s homes, setting up ultra-high end automation equipment.
My clients are very wealthy and the homes I work in are generally of Architectural Digest caliber. They are also VERY clean, as most of the families employ a full time staff of at least two maids.
And on the rare occasion that the homes aren’t clean, I’m afraid we gossip about it and call them slobs, even though the “dirt” is more like counters not wiped down and clothes tossed on the floor, never real filth and their dirty house is probably not that much worse than our clean ones. But when it’s an ultra-expensive famous architect type house the clutter feels more like defacement than dirt.
I love this aspect of my job,BTW…it rocks to be able to see these great homes in so much detail.
Onsite computer tech,
I go into alot of homes, I am often offered apologies about the mess, sometimes the mess is a few stray pieces of mail, sometimes I have to dig the computer from under a pile of empty beer cans and cigarette butts.
I used to be an EMT, that is where the really icky stuff was seen, people who call 911 usually dont stop to clean up first…unless its to destroy evidence.
I install satellite tv and get the same thing.“sorry about the mess” whether its a few kids toys laying around or on more than one occasion tip toeing around piles of dog crap. We as a company have an official policy that if the tech feels that the house is a big enough bio-hazard it is okay to not do the job. I have come close a few times to leaving but did the job anyway. Wondering the whole time why they could afford satellite tv but not some soap and water. Ia lso agree with the sex toy thing but was most uncomfortable wth the male om male porno the customer told me to “just move that out of the way”. I really do not care what you do but don’t shove it in my face. (yes I would feel the same about straight porn) that stuff is between you and yours. Worst was the house that every animal they owned went in the house. The ammonia smell was almost overpowering.
Wow. Going out of your way to be abrassive? I think you have more issues than I do.
BTW, nowhere did I mention a dead child. I said the “child’s brother” who was actually an adult.
Once again your assumptions overpower your reading comprehension.
When I was a recruiter I’d been in some homes in New Jersey that were pretty bad. On one of my first interviews another recruiter and I went to see a guy that wanted to join the army. There was literally food with mold growing on it stuck on the table…and everyone in the house smelled like piss. I regret ever going there as I was getting ill from the filth and the smell. My coworker made an excuse halfway through so he could go outside and get some air. Needless to say, the guy didn’t join. He didn’t even pass the practice ASVAB on my laptop. That was a relief…I’d hate to think that I’d unleashed him on some unit.
Then there was a girl who was level headed evn though everyone in her family was into drugs and lived in house full of unwashed clothes and filth. She basically told me she wanted to join to get out of there. I don’t blame her. Their toilet wouldn’t flush and they still pissed in it. The bowl was full and they scooped it out enough to not overflow it…with a tupperware bowl.
I’m not a recruiter anymore (Thank God)…and I’ve been lucky that I’ve been in few places where I had to inspect barracks rooms. Until I got here. (Bragg). What I don’t understand is how these guys (and girls) can **** up a place as bad as they do in some cases. Granted, the barracks here suck. But they suck mostly because people throw trash all over the place or just generally don’t clean a thing unless forced to. I hate it when that happens because it usually means the Sergeant Major went in there, saw the mess and went apeshit. Now its not most soldiers…but you only need a handful of slobs to screw it up for everyone.
A year ago I was inspecting the barracks rooms for defects. Some soldiers in my unit shared rooms with soldiers from another unit. One guy had a roommate that must have been the son of Oscar the Grouch. His part of the room was clean, but his roommate? He had a moldy pizza in a dresser drawer. TWO big ass full trashbags in a corner…and his desk? Lets just say it had mold growing on it. Especially in his chewing tobacco cup which was full, natch. I went crazy. I had to track down this guys squad leader and Hulk out. Eventually I had my guy moved to another room. He wanted to kick his roommates ass but didn’t because he knew he’d only get in trouble too.
This thread reminds me of a story about going into a private home, but encountering something a bit better than garbage. A good friend of mine’s mom worked in high-end real estate in LA in the 70’s through the 90’s. He was back from college so in his early 20’s - this is the late 1970’s. He is helping his mom check out a new listing - she sometimes needed his help moving stuff or getting the newly-listed houses in shape.
They go into the house and are making their ways into the various rooms and it is clear that someone is still living there. They walk into the master bedroom and there are clearly a *handful *of people in bed, mostly asleep and under the covers, but clearly recovering from a wild night, which (even in the free-love 70’s) would be a bit of an adjustment…
…but then, ***Stevie Nicks ***gets of out bed, stark naked (and, to remind you - this is the 70’s so she was in her 20’s and in her prime), and apologizes profusely (with no shame about being naked while doing so) about not answering the door. She offers them coffee and wants to get all hostess and welcoming - all while naked. Turns out the house is Lindsey Buckingham’s and he was just flipping properties and Stevie was using it and hadn’t heard that she needed to clear out since he was selling it. Everybody was cool; my friend and his mom left the house and within a day, it was ready to be listed.
…and my friend was in his bunk for about 2 months after that…