As most of you know, Steve and I were looking for an apartment in the city and have since moved. The story of our move is unbelievable, and because of potential legal issues, I’m not going to use anyone’s real name.
After a really long apartment search, we finally found one on the edge of The Mission and Potrero Hill. It’s a great spot, about four long blocks from the BART station. We were very excited about moving into our new gorgeous loft. We planned on moving things in gradually, starting on the 1st of October, and then the big move on the 6th.
We unlocked the door Monday morning, the 1st, and discovered that our new landlord (we’ll call him Bob), had not removed his belongings. I promptly got a little angry because this put a big kink in our plans. But ok, we’ll just move it all on Saturday, the 6th. I tried to call Bob and got a woman’s voicemail, which freaked me out a little – oh my gosh, has he scammed us? I left a message anyway and emailed him as soon as I got to work. He called me back pretty quickly and explained that he thought we were moving on the 6th. I said we can do that, but you need to pro-rate the rent. Ok, no problem.
Later in the week I got a little worried and emailed Bob to confirm that he’d be out BY the 6th, not ON the 6th because we rented a truck and were full-on packing. He assured me that he would. Then Friday night, the 5th, Bob left me a voicemail saying that we needed to move the following weekend because he hadn’t packed yet. I was ticked off to say the least. I called him back and said no, we have rented a truck and are completely packed, we have to move tomorrow. He said ok, I’ll pack up tonight.
Saturday morning, the 6th, the day of the big move. At 7:30am we get a phone call that went into voicemail. The message was from Bob stating that we had to move on Sunday because he wasn’t out yet. I was extremely angry now. I had Steve call him back because I knew I couldn’t speak calmly. Steve explained to Bob that there’s no way we could move the next day. We had a truck, were completely packed, and had friends ready to go. Steve figured out that Bob had not packed a thing, and basically we needed to go there, pack him and move him. I agreed, and hoped that our friends would help.
We called our friends and, thankfully, they agreed to this craziness. We picked up the truck and showed up at our new place to pack and move our new landlord out. He was there with his girlfriend and they seemed to just be (according to my friends), walking back and forth in the area by the door, moving things from one box to another. Bob didn’t have a ton of stuff, just a couch, a table and three closets full of clothes, among some other very strange items that I won’t list here.
After we had Bob all packed up we loaded the truck and moved him to the storage facility on the other side of the building. While we were loading I asked if they would be cleaning the apartment when we went down to San Mateo, and he said yes. The storage place was pretty messed up, you needed a code for everything (door, elevator and unit) and Bob didn’t know any of them because his girlfriend purchased it. After finally getting in we were moving everything up and Bob disappeared. I called him and he said he was cleaning. Um, what?!?! No, you help us move YOUR stuff Bob, then you clean. So he came running over.
During the move into the storage unit Steve had a moment alone with Bob and asked what he was going to do about October’s rent. Bob asked what would you like? Steve said make an offer. Bob offered for October to be free. Both Steve and I felt that was a very fair offer for all the hassle of having us and our friends pack and move him.
Once that was finally done we all headed down to San Mateo and loaded up our stuff. When we got back Bob and his woman still weren’t done cleaning and needed another half an hour. So we moved our things into the courtyard. Then three of us went back to SM for the small amount of items remaining. Finally, at 8:00pm we were finished with a job that should have been done at 4:00pm. We thanked our friends profusely and fed them beer and pizza.
There were still a few things left to deal with though. Bob didn’t clear out his storage unit at the apartment, didn’t leave us a working remote for the garage, and we could not figure out where the garbage was supposed to go. So we tried calling him on Sunday, no response. Tried again on Monday, no response. Then finally later in the day, Monday, an email with answers to our questions.
Phew, everything is done and dealt with. But wait, there’s more…
Tuesday when I came home from work there was a notice on the door. NOTICE, in big red letters. It read something to this effect, “Dear Owners/Occupants, the apartment that you are now occupying has been foreclosed and is now the property of the bank. You are to vacate the premises… blah blah.”
WHAT???? What? Are you kidding me? This nightmare just got so much worse than I could have ever imagined!
I called Steve at work and read the letter to him. He emailed Bob (we had no internet at the apartment), and called Bob’s realtor (we’ll call him George) to leave a message. I called the real estate representative that left the letter (we’ll call him Jim) and left a message with him. No one got back to us that night. We spent the whole evening going over the whole thing, wondering what we could have done, what we’ll need to do, how we might need to take legal action. It was terrible.
I had just packed and moved. Finding an apartment was stressful and difficult. I did NOT want to go through that again! And the cost of moving, and the friends that helped… And on top of that, I was looking forward to focusing on wedding stuff for a change, not another apartment hunt! Too much to handle! Head going to explode!!!
The next day (this would be Wednesday) we got in touch with a few people. We exchanged a lot of email with George. We were going to hold him responsible because he should have done a better job checking up on Bob before listing the place for rent. After some back and forth with George, he understood where we were coming from and just wanted to make it all better. He also wanted Bob to step up and take responsibility, which he was not doing.
Then Jim called me back. He didn’t know that there were tenants in the apartment, which changed everything. Now the case needed to go to the bank’s lawyers instead of a real estate company. He assured me that we wouldn’t have to move out for at least a month, or that we may end up renting from the bank, or they could sell it occupied. In any case, not to worry.
Ok, we started to feel much better. George also contacted Jim and reassured us again that we would be fine, that the bank would probably do their best to make this turn out well. No worries. We’re all set, now we just have to wait for a call from some lawyers, while we sit in limbo.
And the icing on top of the cake…
Sunday, a week after moving and freaking and calming down, I exchanged some IM’s with Bob. I asked about him getting out of the apartment storage unit. He said he’d be out on Friday, and could he have October’s rent.
What?? Are you insane?
I explained that we wouldn’t be paying him rent because the bank owns the place, and we’re not going to do anything until their lawyers contact us. And on top of that, he gave us October for free. He remembered then, and agreed. Then said that he’d also have his lawyers contact us. But you know, I don’t think it matters much what his lawyers say. Just the bank at this point.
So there you have it, the most ridiculous move that Steve or I have ever had or heard about.