Metropolis.

This ransom note-style message can be found inside the kitchen cabinet. The cabinet I use to store my food, to be exact. Although not my doing, I see it as a whimsical touch to the otherwise crummy unit.

The roomie and I have yet to be served an official eviction note. The landlord hasn’t even sent her realtor over yet. Despite that, we shall check out a place together on Sunday. I’m not as antsy as my roommate about getting out before the landlord gets the ball rolling. I see value in exercising squatter’s rights as nothing currently available will be as affordable as our charming hovel; however, I wouldn’t pass up on checking out anything appealing.

I made a generalization in my last post, suggesting that all landlords are bad. There’s an exception I’ll allow. Say, the owners bought their house 30 years ago, and the child(ren) they raised has since left home; it would make sense for them to rent out part of the house if possible. This was my previous landlords’ situation: they had more than enough space for the two of them on the main floor: 3 bed, two bath. Yes, they could sell the place and downsize, but moving in itself is expensive and time-consuming. Best to stay until they require to move into a retirement community.

My previous landlords charged me well below the marketing rate. They set the rent. Considering how they’d bought the house at least 30 years ago, they were still making a profit. I emphasized that I was looking for a long-term place to live. Then the landlady (Nicole) decided to try raising my rent a diabolical 6.66 times more than the legal amount. Only after I pointed out their proposal was unlawful did they insist they needed the suite back, citing personal use.

So, the initial circumstances suggested they had just cause for becoming landlords.

The current landlord sent the roomie a bizarre email a few weeks ago in which they tried to garner sympathy. They explained how the current interest rate meant the place was no longer profitable for them. They want to sell before the housing market collapses.

The landlord already has a primary property. They took “the risk” in investing in a second property they could not afford. Now, that risk is no longer beneficial. For selling a place they invested in years ago, they’ll still turn a profit, while my roomie and I won’t get anything back. Why aren’t the roomie and I considered co-investors? The landlord wouldn’t have been able to pay off their creditor without our help.

But if you’re a landlord who believes that you truly deserve accolades for providing a “service,” I guess you’ll sleep easy tonight. I mean, how could you not? You actually have somewhere to sleep.

The title of this post comes from the book I’m currently reading. It’s much more interesting than Reddit, which was what I was looking for!