(no subject)
If you're planning on dealing with real estate agents, do not use Noel Jones. They are a bunch of crooks. They think it's perfectly acceptable to break the law and think a sorry will fix it, and continue on with normal.
Why do I say this? Well with my mother selling the house, the agents said that they tended to do open houses on thursdays and saturdays, but no matter what, they would always give me 24 hours notice.
Now, 11am yesterday comes around with no call from them, so I figure that there's no open house. Until I come home, and see half the lights on. I double take, and figure that the agents must have been dirty rotten bastards, went inside, and looked around for a note or card or an indication that it was them and not a burgler, saw none, panicked, ran outside, called the cops, had to have the lady on the phone walk me through walking upstairs incase someone was still there.
Got number of relevant tribunal from cops to call and report agents to. Called Mum. 'Oh, yes, there was an open house today, oh they didn't tell you? Oh, well, doesn't matter'. Didn't respond well to the fact that they're not coming back again. Bloody mother, as usual sticks up for anyone who's not her own flesh and blood. Cos seriously, they're not coming back in here again, and at the very least they're giving back my key because they've demonstrated why they can't be trusted with it.
Of course, she didn't get a word in edgewise because I'm Pennie, master of having hissy fits, especially when faced with burglary scares. But she's more concerned with selling her house than with how her poor darling firstborn feels about coming home to find she may have been robbed.
She did call back a little while and I gave her the courtesy of not answering so she could get a word in by leaving a voicemail. She rang up several people at the agency to tell them off (read, apologise for her daughter liking people to obey the law), and they said they they had said we had a standing arrangement for Thursday and Saturdays, but were terribly sorry that I'd misunderstood (read, hadn't been told). They admitted that they were terribly wrong about leaving all the lights on, that they hadn't turned on any, but some of the people coming through might have turned on maybe one (read, we turned on half the lights and didn't bother turning them off) and that in the future they will be careful. Which is no comfort because were more concerned with the lights issue than the trespass issue, and now they know to not leave any indication of trespassing. And Mum apparently is on my side but she needs to sell the house, and I was always aware that this was a temporary arrangement, so apparently this nullifies all my rights as a tenant, which I'm not, even though I pay rent, and being her daughter means she can disregard all rights of respecting me, even though I'm bending over backwards to help her with getting the house okay for being sold. Most tenants just get the house neat for inspections. I get up on a Saturday morning and have her invade my house while we clean it together when I'd rather clean it any other time (Sunday afternoon is my usual time), and then have her move all my stuff from where it belongs into cupboards it doesn't, so that I have to put everything back in its place afterwards. I'm not the neatest person in the world, but my place is fairly neat for the most part, and it's fairly clear of clutter. The stuff which apparently is unsightly is things like a teapot and salt and pepper on the bench, and my shoes and box for bags and keys next to the front door, and my recycling bin.
I'm going to call the tenancy tribunal tomorrow and see where my rights are. Especially about the key issue. Meanwhile if they dare try to come in on saturday I'll have my best hissy fit voice to throw at them because I know I'm good at it. Which is a pain because I'd planned to distribute pamphlets while they were here. Oh well, it can wait for half an hour.
Meanwhile, being me, I came near having a hypo attack, so had to quickly get food down, which is actually quite hard to do when you're near a hypo. I called Rob when I probably shouldn't have, but he seems to understand my drama queen tendencies better than anyone. Then I went to see fluffy Jenifer Garner romantic comedy at the Rivoli to calm down. Was fine until I came out and got all paranoid again. Managed to pull myself together to make some phone calls that I had to make, but hadn't had a chance to being out for most nights in the past week so didn't have a chance til tonight. Now I've gotten to the drinking port to calm my nerves and listening to Frank Sinatra, and bitching to live journal. Yay for the last 3!
Woo, I've got some bills to pay, but they can wait until my super dooper jam packed weekend to do them. Who knows, perhaps Granny will take Mum's side in this whole debate, which means that within 10 minutes of me going to her house for dinner tomorrow night I'll be out the door giving me a whole evening to pay the phone bill!
Why do I say this? Well with my mother selling the house, the agents said that they tended to do open houses on thursdays and saturdays, but no matter what, they would always give me 24 hours notice.
Now, 11am yesterday comes around with no call from them, so I figure that there's no open house. Until I come home, and see half the lights on. I double take, and figure that the agents must have been dirty rotten bastards, went inside, and looked around for a note or card or an indication that it was them and not a burgler, saw none, panicked, ran outside, called the cops, had to have the lady on the phone walk me through walking upstairs incase someone was still there.
Got number of relevant tribunal from cops to call and report agents to. Called Mum. 'Oh, yes, there was an open house today, oh they didn't tell you? Oh, well, doesn't matter'. Didn't respond well to the fact that they're not coming back again. Bloody mother, as usual sticks up for anyone who's not her own flesh and blood. Cos seriously, they're not coming back in here again, and at the very least they're giving back my key because they've demonstrated why they can't be trusted with it.
Of course, she didn't get a word in edgewise because I'm Pennie, master of having hissy fits, especially when faced with burglary scares. But she's more concerned with selling her house than with how her poor darling firstborn feels about coming home to find she may have been robbed.
She did call back a little while and I gave her the courtesy of not answering so she could get a word in by leaving a voicemail. She rang up several people at the agency to tell them off (read, apologise for her daughter liking people to obey the law), and they said they they had said we had a standing arrangement for Thursday and Saturdays, but were terribly sorry that I'd misunderstood (read, hadn't been told). They admitted that they were terribly wrong about leaving all the lights on, that they hadn't turned on any, but some of the people coming through might have turned on maybe one (read, we turned on half the lights and didn't bother turning them off) and that in the future they will be careful. Which is no comfort because were more concerned with the lights issue than the trespass issue, and now they know to not leave any indication of trespassing. And Mum apparently is on my side but she needs to sell the house, and I was always aware that this was a temporary arrangement, so apparently this nullifies all my rights as a tenant, which I'm not, even though I pay rent, and being her daughter means she can disregard all rights of respecting me, even though I'm bending over backwards to help her with getting the house okay for being sold. Most tenants just get the house neat for inspections. I get up on a Saturday morning and have her invade my house while we clean it together when I'd rather clean it any other time (Sunday afternoon is my usual time), and then have her move all my stuff from where it belongs into cupboards it doesn't, so that I have to put everything back in its place afterwards. I'm not the neatest person in the world, but my place is fairly neat for the most part, and it's fairly clear of clutter. The stuff which apparently is unsightly is things like a teapot and salt and pepper on the bench, and my shoes and box for bags and keys next to the front door, and my recycling bin.
I'm going to call the tenancy tribunal tomorrow and see where my rights are. Especially about the key issue. Meanwhile if they dare try to come in on saturday I'll have my best hissy fit voice to throw at them because I know I'm good at it. Which is a pain because I'd planned to distribute pamphlets while they were here. Oh well, it can wait for half an hour.
Meanwhile, being me, I came near having a hypo attack, so had to quickly get food down, which is actually quite hard to do when you're near a hypo. I called Rob when I probably shouldn't have, but he seems to understand my drama queen tendencies better than anyone. Then I went to see fluffy Jenifer Garner romantic comedy at the Rivoli to calm down. Was fine until I came out and got all paranoid again. Managed to pull myself together to make some phone calls that I had to make, but hadn't had a chance to being out for most nights in the past week so didn't have a chance til tonight. Now I've gotten to the drinking port to calm my nerves and listening to Frank Sinatra, and bitching to live journal. Yay for the last 3!
Woo, I've got some bills to pay, but they can wait until my super dooper jam packed weekend to do them. Who knows, perhaps Granny will take Mum's side in this whole debate, which means that within 10 minutes of me going to her house for dinner tomorrow night I'll be out the door giving me a whole evening to pay the phone bill!