David M. Green is a 25-year-old comedian, freelance
writer, voice-actor and presenter - originally from Adelaide, now based in
Melbourne.
Here is an excerpt from a recent ABC show ‘The Drum’ that
scarily has some foundation of truth…
Who hasn't
had to deal with a bad landlord at some point? From sparking heaters to
pen-operated doors, David M Green shares his own experiences with a less-than
ideal landlord.
Being a
landlord is like being a parent. No qualifications are necessary. Anyone can
become one, no matter what your level of complete incompetence.
And
unfortunately if you're the tenant, you're the child in this relationship. If
your landlord says you can't dig in the backyard or hang that poster of your favourite
band on the wall, those are the rules.
When we
think of landlords, it conjures images of Victorian era dandy fops with
stovepipe hats, grumbling about the price of coal. But the modern reality is
landlords are just regular people. Regular people who own property.
What
attracts someone to the wondrous world of landlordism? It's surely the
envisioned simplicity of the arrangement - You buy a house or an apartment.
Someone else lives in it. They pay it off for you. And you don't have to do
anything. Besides watching the rent money roll in, of course.
And even
better - after a few years of doing absolutely nothing, your property is worth
even more! Sure beats working for a living.
We usually
hear horror stories about the Tenants from hell, but I don't think I know a
single person who hasn't had to deal with a bad landlord at some point.
Maybe
landlords should have to go through the same scrutiny that tenants have to go
through before they can enter the rental market?
Bad
landlords come in a number of forms. Category one is the "Extreme
Lord". Extreme landlords are all over you. They're constantly round at the
house, checking things, asking invasive questions, sticking their nose in your
business and nitpicking every out-of-place carpet fibre at your all-too-frequent
inspections.
One of the
worst living arrangements has to be living right next door to your landlord.
You're effectively under constant supervision. They know when you're sleeping.
They know when you're awake. They know when you're practicing the drums. And if
you live next door to your "Extreme" landlord, God help you.
The opposite
to the Extreme Lord is the "Shadow Lord". You can never get in
contact with the Shadow Lord. They may as well not exist.
If you've
got the unfortunate combination of living in a self-managed property under a
Shadow Lord, you have my sympathy. There's no real estate agent to help you
either. Unless it's to remind you, "You'll have to call the landlord about
that." Good luck.
Then there's
the "Tight Lord". If they're not avoiding repairs, they're DIY-ing it
themselves to save money, or deducting it out of your bond.
I reckon
when it comes to tight landlords, my landlord is tighter than a vice made from
Chinese finger traps.
When my
built-in electric heater started sparking, I immediately called my landlord.
His reaction: "Oh, no, you shouldn't be using that. Didn't anyone tell
ya?" He then reassured me by promising to "put a sign on it"
next time he come round.
No need to
replace the heater. Just put a sign on it. I can only assume the sign will say
"out of order", though "I need to fix this" would also be
acceptable. Eight months later, I'm still waiting for a sign.
When the
handle on my screen door broke, effectively locking the door, I was locked
outside. Fortunately I had a pen with me, which I used to jimmy open the door.
But then I was locked Inside. I immediately called the landlord. He reassured
me with some sound advice: "Just keep that pen on ya. And keep a
screwdriver in your car."
No need to
replace the screen door that could potentially seal me inside my apartment in
the event of a fire. Just keep a screwdriver in my car. I used the screwdriver
to remove the screen door.
But by far
the most entertaining encounter with my landlord came when I finally met him.
I'd been living there for 10 months - no inspection, no sign on the heater -
when I saw some more sparks. This time they were coming from my circa 1968 fuse
box, which proposed a serious fire hazard.
I
immediately called the landlord. I suggested a qualified electrician take a
look at it. My unqualified landlord insisted he look instead. He came over and
literally almost electrocuted himself when he attempted to install a fuse while
the main power was still switched on. An electrician was organised within the hour.
So from my
ordeal, I can only conclude the way to turn your bad landlord into a good one
is through a mild electric shock or near death experience.
Our advice –
it’s a funny story just make sure that this isn't you as a landlord.
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