Strippers make the best tenants

I have some pending hubs. I want to write about how my older son racked up his cell phone bill up to $1200. I want to write about the Caribbean National Rainforest...

I could be writing today about Steve Jobs or maybe the Puerto Rican government.

But no... I'm going to write about a stripper. A writer has an urge to write, and there are stories that demand an immediate outing. This is one.

I have been blessed in becoming a property owner more than once. I still pay a mortgage on my current home, but have a paid out house 20 minutes away. I've lived that other house for about 15 years. I miss my neighbors so much over there that I still visit them on Christmas and the like. A close knit neighborhood, which is priceless nowadays when people are in too much of a hurry to even look at you and smile as they go.

So when I rent this house, the neighbors don't have a problem in being my eyes and ears. I don't need to bother my tenants except for pay day, I just pay a friendly visit to my neighbors and they fill me in.

Like when I had these other tenants. Wow, were they a bundle! The neighbors would always complain to me on how loud and messy they were. A young couple with an attitude. These kids were so bad that when they left they forgot to take the rotten food they carefully placed in my embedded trash cans, without a bag. That was like digging out a corpse, which I did myself, thank you, in order to keep my neighbors friendly.

So when I met my new tenants, I was very concerned and related to them how I really truly needed and demanded both verbally and in writing that they were to keep not only the inside of the house clean, but its surroundings.

My new tenants were three sisters, college students. You know how it goes, they seemed like such a nice trio. Plus their mom and dad vouch for them, as did some previous landlord.

And they had cash at hand while I had an empty house. So in they went. I solved a vacancy problem and went home with cash readily handy.

I then resort to my method of visiting my neighbors every so often for a cup of coffee and them to let me know if they have any complaints of my new tenants.

"Oh, but I barely notice if they are there. I sometimes see them coming and going," they tell me. Another neighbor observed that sometimes there were five cars at a time at the house.

I think she's having her mom and pop living there with them. But didn't make much fuss about it. They were indeed paying on time, and for all that it matter, the neighbors were not complaining at all. I was suppose to inspect the property every three months, as specified in the contract. But it was impossible to ever find them awake at an appropriate time. Plus they were paying on time, why bother them?

I did have one complain though. They were failing big time in up-keeping the patio. Whenever I drove by, I'd see the patio in disarray. My beautiful lawn was gone. At one time, they kept a broke down car on the grass. I wrote them asking for the car to be removed, which they did. But the yard maintenance was a hassle for them.

So as I was collecting the rent I had a talk with one of the sisters in regards to the yard. She was adamant. Like why do I have to complain so much about it. That she is a single mother and how hard it is for her to keep up with everything everybody demands.

I tell her not to take it on a personal level. I am just doing my job. As owner it is my duty to ensure the house is kept up to date, especially in regards to cleanliness and maintenance.

She goes on to tell me that it is not my problem if she has a man now.

Wait... what? A man? How did we go from house maintenance to who does anybody sleep with? I mean, really, I do not care. I wish people could see how much I don't care. I don't enjoy meddling in other people's life. When it comes to tenants, I make it all about my rent and house maintenance. That's it.

Next day, as she is paying me the rent for that month at the mall parking lot, she apologizes for snatching at me the day before.

I get out of my car to hug her. I can feel her pain. "I'm sorry", she says, "is just that my mother and all of my family criticize me for what I do yet they ask me for money all the time... you see... I'm a stripper... "

I let her know, although she already knows, that I don't judge. My only concern is the upkeep of the house, that we abide by law, and prompt payment. She agrees, she confessed to have left the house which is against the lease agreement, but what am I to do? I tell her that I am placing the house on the market immediately, and prospects will be stopping by. She understands, so no problem.

This was a Monday, by Wednesday I already have one appointment to show the house. I've already asked my tenant when was it better for her that I stopped by to show the house. She agreed on Wednesday. It's Wednesday and I'm trying to contact her by text. She responds that she didn't realize that it was going to be so fast. I told her that I was going to advertised the house immediately, so I don't understand what made her think it was going to be later.

In any event, she told me on Monday that the house was too big, now is about double talk. She texts me that she's not even at the house. Although on Monday she said she was there on Wednesdays...

I double check our leasing agreement. There's a clause that allows for me to enter if I find that the house is in disarray outside and after exhausting all means of coordination with the tenant. I call my prospects and head on to the house.

The tenant is in the house... Lying? Why?

I get out of the car, explain the situation briefly to my prospects as delicate as I can. Then approach the gate to call her out loud. The TV was on until I called her name. I call her again. I reached for my cell phone and text her: "Lying does not help".

She answers the door. I almost begged her to understand I cannot afford to have the house empty, if she could at least cooperate in allow for viewing, as did the tenants before her; I'd sure appreciate. Plus, this was exactly how she viewed the house when she first got in.

She agrees, after stating that my prospects were not going to get in the bedrooms, bummer, but in we go.

"Thank you very much", I started. "So, here's the kitchen, yadda yadda yadda..."

As we are walking to the living room, one of my prospects go: "Hey, what's this pole doing here?"

A what!!! I almost bumped into it myself. There it was, a fuchsia pole attached top to bottom to both floor and roof.

A stripper pole is in my living room... in the house where my son grew up.

Let it be known that the reason why I want her out is because the most responsible of them already left.

About the pole, is not even about the pole, but the holes they leave behind on my tile.

Life is beautiful and complicated. I have this pole in my mind. There are other details best left behind. These were certainly the best tenants I ever had, and if they need a referral letter I would be much obliged.