onsite insight
Saints and Sinners
by Riley
The second annual Trophy Awards gave grand accolades to those who work tirelessly to follow endless rules and regulations, while making safe and healthy homes for people who live in San Francisco rental units. Each of the people and companies recognized, work every day towards a goal of not only making the great divide between tenants and landlords a bit smaller, but maybe even constructing a figurative bridge between the two.
Ironically, in the same venue, at the same time, a local tenants organization was also having a dinner! These two opposing forces were next to each other, both celebrating achievements in the industry. This dichotomy of wills so close to each other in the same building made me think of the awards I would give in my building: “MVT“ (Most Valuable Tenant), for those tenants who shine, and “Tenzilla,” for those who prove themselves to be, well, difficult to manage.
The Best
Let’s start with this year’s MVT. A tenant last week contributed something bordering on extreme grace in an overall sad situation. I received a call in the afternoon that a tenant had had his car broken into in the garage. Nothing was taken, but the driver’s side window was smashed, ruining the brand new car with dealer stickers and plates still in place.
The tenant was crushed. It was his first new car, which he had owned for two days and it was no longer new and shiny. Even though it could be fixed, it did not feel the same.
The tenant told me he was going to have to have the car towed to get it fixed, and I asked him if he could let me know when he moved the car so I could clean out the garbage room, an area always beyond disgusting, which I hesitate to wash out unless the parking space next to it is empty.
One day a week I wash all of the floors in the building. When I was on the fourth and final floor of the building, out of breath and tired, the tenant appeared. He told me that when he was waiting for the tow truck and stuck in the garage anyway, he cleaned out the garbage room for me. He said he had to sweep up the glass from his car so he swept out the rest.
I didn’t know what to say. The garbage men don’t always put the can under the chute and sometimes when the trash hits the floor instead of the can it breaks open, leaving broken bags of rotten veggies, fruit, meat and any other disgusting thing that might be thrown away. The tenant, while sweeping up the broken glass from his new dream car, had cleaned out a room so disgusting that he requested a shovel to scoop the refuse into the can as it was making him gag.
What kind of person does something completely outside the realm of his responsibility, not to mention so disgusting that he is gagging, but still wants to finish? Not only did the tenant clean that room, but when I came down to finish scooping up the yuck, he hooked up a hose and helped wash out the garage. If I could have given him a Trophy, I would have.
I told him I would never expect him to do any of the things he did that day and he actually said, “You work so hard to make a better place for me to live. It is my pleasure to do something for you.” In my mind, his actions were clearly those of a tenant who cares about where he lives. I don’t know if I could have seen myself doing the same thing in his position. MVT is not enough of a title; rather than turning bitter about his car, he instead thanked me for my hard work and did something that was not only not his responsibility but was also truly disgusting. Salut!
The Worst
My “Tenzilla” award this year goes to a tenant who moved into the building one year ago. She was one of those very needy people, wanting me to come up on a Friday night at 10 p.m. to change a light bulb. One night, I was awakened by ferocious banging on my door. “Tenzilla” had had her keys and wallet stolen from a bar that night. When she arrived home at 2:15 a.m., everything of value had been stolen from the apartment and the keys to the building and unit were missing.
I shook off complete sleep and called the locksmith. By 3:15 a.m., the unit and building doors had been rekeyed—not a minor undertaking, as a locksmith making 40 building keys in the middle of the night is a miracle. Twenty-seven hours later, when all of the keys had been distributed and the building was safe again, I finally got to get some sleep. This could have happened to anyone, and in any other building the expense would have been the responsibility of the tenant; however, in this building, she was lucky and not charged back. Was there gratitude? No. The tenant later remarked that she felt unsafe until the locksmith arrived and things should have been done more quickly. Luckily this was not said to me right after I had been up for 27 hours.
Yet the Tenzilla did something recently that actually makes her even more worthy of the title. She gave notice and, as some tenants do, on the last day of her lease at 8:30 p.m. she called and wanted a walkthrough. I do not do walkthroughs at night, and they must be scheduled at least one week before move out. I clearly say this in writing in my move-out paperwork.
She said this was no problem, as she trusted me “to do the right thing.” Then she uttered the words I consider to be the kiss of death in a move out, “The apartment is as clean as when I moved in.” Ohhhh, noooooo! Over the years, I have discovered that those who really have clean units without damage do the pre-walkthrough and show me clean ovens, unmarked walls and carpets; those who say over the phone it is perfectly clean are really telling me it is not.
Of course, the unit looked like someone had ridden a bicycle on the walls. The whole carpet was stained, and cheese covered the whole bottom of the oven and was at least an inch thick.
A “Tenzilla” always claims that the unit is as clean as the day they moved in, and I always know from the minute they say it I am doomed. In 13 years, I have had units come back as clean as I rented them exactly four times. All four times, the tenant called and said something like “I am sorry the mini-blinds in the dining room don’t work correctly—it must be something I did. I know you will take it out of my deposit.” They never say, “The unit is just as I rented it.”
We all have tenants who show themselves as MVTs or Tenzillas, sometimes both in the same day. Some need and deserve awards, both good and bad. Each building should have its own yearly recognition for those who deserve it; mine exists only in my mind. I will think each year at the time of the Trophy Awards of my own accolades for those who have proven themselves at both ends of the scale—my own dichotomy of good and, well, not so good. My work every day goes mostly unnoticed, but sometimes a tenant comes along who shows me through an act of kindness that takes my breath away that what I do is sometimes appreciated, and somehow that makes the Tenzillas a lot more manageable.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of the SFAA or the SF Apartment Magazine. “Riley” has been a San Francisco resident manager in a large, well-cared-for building for 13 years. The names of the tenants, as well as the columnist, have been changed to protect the building and all involved from the court system and irate neighbors. Copyright © 2009 by Black Point Press. All rights reserved.