Rental Dementia: The Re-Cap

I started this column over a year ago, originally thinking it would run as a three part series. However, it turned into a regular column and, with backstabbing colleagues, supers on the take, snotty doormen, greedy landlords, delusional clients, dishonest colleagues and petty managers, I had enough characters to keep it going. Add to that skyrocketing prices, dwindling inventory, construction cranes everywhere and an entire city obsessed with real estate, and I still haven’t run out of material. In fact, sometimes I think I am just getting started. Unfortunately for me, I have to stay in this business if I’m going to continue mining it for inspiration.

I was thoroughly tired of hearing the one-sided “shady broker” stories and initially conceived of the column as nothing more than an honest (and comic) look at the absurd, increasingly manic, desperate and often-neurotic real estate market in New York. As a relatively cautious and altogether reluctant agent, my idea was simple: I would accurately portray the market, tell personal stories of both triumph and failure, describe this cast of strange and sometimes desperate characters and present a fresh and alternative point of view. I’ve even given away a few secrets along the way.

Having been burned a hundred times by clients and landlords, I thought someone ought to be writing those stories as well. What about the lying backpedaling and delusional renters? What about the demanding landlords who at every opportunity continue to drive up prices? What about the major developers who’ve turned every available square foot—whether old church, former factory or current residential building—into a high-end luxury condo, drastically changing the demographics of an entire city as they go? Meanwhile only the agents were considered the real crooks of real estate, an entire group bent on ripping off every half-witted, naive sucker who had the misfortune of needing a place to call home. 

Who was going to tell the stories about having to bribe the super just to show an apartment, or the kickbacks to management companies, or the hustle and wasted energy involved in racing all over the city to show spaces few people I knew could actually afford? How about the jerks that, after finding a place, try their damndest to beat the fee?

Yeah, I had a few stories to tell. It’s a crummy business, a lot of people get screwed, few are satisfied, none too happily and, when it’s all said and done, most feel abused. Though I haven’t met an agent yet who wouldn’t love to have three perfectly matched apartments for every renter’s request. The problem of course is that the spaces most people want simply don’t exist, and then the agents need to become creative, which is not our specialty. Some go too far, some will say anything, and a lot go back to bartending. 

Lucky for me, by the time I entered the business the days of scamming unsuspecting renters was long over. With so much information available today, we simply don’t have that kind of influence or power any longer.

And who is really slick enough to actually talk someone into renting an apartment against there own better judgment? It’s not a tie, or stereo equipment, or even a car. In fact, my entire sales philosophy is based on this very idea: Either you find them the right space or you don’t, because my own mother will rent with another if he has what she’s looking for. The business has changed, yet the myth of the crooked agent persists.

Still, I’m not innocent enough to believe anyone is really a victim in any of this. Rental Dementia, therefore, is not an excuse. It’s not a defense, and it’s not a bitch session. It’s not an apology, or an instruction manual and it’s certainly not a veiled attempt to drum up business for myself. Nor am I looking to point any fingers.

I write this column because I’m still fascinated with real estate and the funny things sensible people do when frantically searching for the impossible—which, in this town, is good, decent and affordable housing.

At its best, the business of finding apartments for people is rather simple: search, discover and ultimately guide those with less experience through a stress-fueled and frustrating endeavor. At its worst, it’s little more than a convoluted con game of Us vs. Them, where the clients lie, the agents finagle and the landlords sit back and collect. For me, it’s a constant balancing act between these two extremes where, if I’m lucky, I get to help out a few people and help myself in the process. When I’m not? Well at least I get to write about it.