I think I might need to jump back a few steps first at this point though...
I think I better just enlighten you on the trails and tribulations of finding a flat here in London...and then actually getting a lease contract signed. A point of interest here is that letting a flat in the UK is akin to nothing less than actually buying the property instead of renting it. My letting agent (flat finding mercenary) deals with the landlord's letting agent (flat Nazi). Once we have agreed that I would like to spend ridiculous amounts of money on the ridiculously small amount of space that the landlord has decided a person can actually live in (kind of like an inmate can live in a 6x6 cell)...then the real fun begins. I have to contact my bank in the US and get them to fax a credit reference letter to the letting agent.
Sounds easy right?
WRONG!!
First, the letter has to have way more information than the standard letter that Wachovia has on file in which they just fill in little blank. So the powers that be had to actually clear it with their boss that they could release so much info about their client....um I'm asking you to release it, so what's the big deal? It’s at this point that all kinds of Dilbert cartoon strips run through my mind as the actual workings of the Wachovia offices. Also, Wachovia is not an international bank, so they don't fax a lot of things internationally, so I had to walk the girl in the office through this...not once...not twice....not 3 times....but 4 fun filled times did I talk Cindy through dialing internationally...it disturbs me that someone incapable of dialing a phone can handle my money....bizarre. Once the bank references get sorted out, then on to the 'Past References of Inhabitance'. Yeah - that’s not even me being smart - that is what it said on one of the forms. Anyway, this entails me going back for about 5 years to my past landlords and getting their stamp of approval that I didn't destroy their places. Now I do admit that with my slight penchant for not letting the grass grow under my feet...to put it nicely...was a layer of complexity that most people don't have, but I had no problems and was able to get all 4 of my last landlords to send off glowing letters of reference. Then comes the credit check....since having a credit score over 800 in the US was a nice little feather in my cap back home...it was a bit of a shock to be told that it was worthless here. I am a creditless as a broke college kid here! So I had to get reference letters from my employer saying that they did in fact employ me and what my salary was. I also had to show proof of my bank account here in the UK - empty though it is - to show that I had "intent" to make rental payments. Not sure how an account that has been opened for less than 48 hours and has a 0 balance shows intent to pay, but I'll play along...
So once all of that info is compiled, it is then given to the landlord (king of said property) to review, at which time, he or she then gives a yes or no (the king grants domicile to his peasants).
Alrighty then...this is what it takes to get a flat in London...just keep that in the back of your mind.
So, now let’s circle back to the crisis situation...
Monday afternoon, I get a call from the letting agent of the landlord who's flat I was suppose to move into next weekend...yeah - did you pick up on the past tense reference...that wasn't a mistake.
Let me first just say that I have had a nagging feeling about this new flat since the moment I blurted, "I'll take it!" Besides the obvious issues - crazy expensive, small space, etc. - I have just not felt good about this decision. Which most of you know that I am a firm liner when it comes to decision making. I decide one way or another and that’s it...it may not be the right decision sometimes, but no matter, I've decided upon the path and the path I shall follow - we just see where it leads after I jump. But my instincts are usually rather good - some of you can chuckle here because you know that my track record is not quite 100%. But in all fairness, I haven't been down the wrong path too much...in my adult life that is at least - we all make mistakes in our crazy youth though - don't knock me for that. It is odd though that the young are prone to make bad decisions...odd only for the fact that youth apparently knows everything...hmmm...but I digress here and I'm starting to feel old - bad things both, so back to the flat saga.
Anyway, I've had a nagging feeling, and so, I have made sure - just in case - that I have kept up with the property notices for the past week or so. I'm not saying I'm psychic or anything, sometimes psycho...but most definitely not psychic...just burned a bit...so what better way to pass the time until the other shoe drops than to make sure you have a plan B.
So the letting agent starts off with, "I'm not sure how to tell you this, Tiffany."
Yeah - those aren't happy words that leave me with a warm and fuzzy feeling....
"The landlord has decided to sell the building."
Huh?!? What?!!? She didn't know she was going to sell the building last week when she agreed to rent it?!?!
AAAHAHAHAHAH!!!
No worries though - I knew something like this might happen....
So the letting agent was very apologetic, almost too apologetic if you catch my drift...but neither here nor there...must move on to activate Plan B.
So I move a few meetings around and begin making some calls...budget planning for 2008 was no longer a priority...I mean really people, my shoes, purses and red fish light were homeless!!
I decide on a new letting agent. Rebecca seemed very knowledgeable, knew her properties off the top of her head, had a good sense of humor and most importantly....was available that night to show me a new place.
6:30 Rebecca and I plan to meet up at the flat.
Not sure why I decided that Monday night should be the night I try taking the bus instead of the tube - that was a poor decision on my part....
At 6:40 after hailing a cab to make up for running so late from the bus when I got off at the wrong stop I show up. Yes - I had called Rebecca to tell her I was running a bit late...it's ok if she assumed the tube was delayed right? I just kind of didn't correct her on that one.
This si how I knew I made the right decision for my new letting agent though - as she is taking me through the place, we go into the bathroom and she says, "Do you want to check the shower pressure?"
Music to my ears!! Mom, if you're reading this - you know I just had a smile on my face!!
For everyone else's enlightenment though, I try to take pleasure in the little things...good perogies, the fresh smell of Tide detergent...and a good shower. My love for a good shower has even made me get a showerhead for the guest bathroom in my parents’ house...a shower head that I might add my dad even said had great pressure! Apparently that must be the side I get it from.
Anyway, the flat was in a nice area, a bit of a hike from the tube station - but beggars can't be choosers - and it needed a little attention...nothing a little fresh paint wouldn't fix....and maybe some Glade air fresheners - there was a funky smell in that place.
But again, going on instinct, it just didn't feel right. So Rebecca asks me my thoughts and I told here what I liked and what I didn't/ She then says she has another place she wants to show me. She said the landlord was asking $395/week ($1700/mo), but she had a conversation with him earlier that day and he said he would accept $350/wk ($1500/mo) which was what the other place I was supposed to get was.
She then tells me she has a showing at 7:15 with another client and asks if she can just call me when that’s done and show me the place later in the evening. I appreciate a good salesperson!! I tell her that great, just give me a call. Then she tells me that the other place is not far from where I'm staying now in Notting Hill and she can just give me a ride home, and then pick me up when she's done with the other people.
Letting agent - where have you been all of my stay in London?!?!
So - and it gets even better - we leave the flat and she points to her car - a BWM 325i!!! She's me - she's me in a parallel universe where I am a letting agent in London!!
On the way back to my place, we chit chat and she gives me all kinds of great anecdotes about London and her job, etc.
Fast forward to her picking me back up...you really only missed her dropping me off and me grabbing dinner...
Off we go to the new place...
We walk in and I knew....I just knew!!! The landlord just finished remodeling it, so is in the process of buying ALL new furnishings, and even agreed to buy a sofa bed instead of a sofa...now I can have visitors again!! It gets even better, though....more space, my own patio, a huge bathroom, washer/dryer (of course), a full size fridge/freezer (did I tell you that was rare here? All the fridges are like the size of the kind we had in college) and there is a door to the living room, so with the addition of a sofa bed, I'm back to having a guest room when I get out of town visitors...and the biggest plus of all....a walk in closet!!! Space, space and more space!!!! I am in heaven here!!!
So we talk some more, finalize the details, she thinks she can save me all the trouble of the reference checks if the other letting agent will just send her all of the information she got on me (which she agreed to do the next day when I called because she still feels bad that the deal fell through).
Then Rebecca takes me for a drive through my new neighborhood. Now I do admit, that it is one of the nicer areas in London, very quiet, posh, a lot of "row mansions" row houses that have been bought in blocks, gutted and made into one mega house for the wealthy ones that can afford to do that kind of thing.
As we drive around, I notice something strange...."Um, Rebecca, Is that man with a machine gun?"
My heart sunk a bit here, my first thought was, "Oh man - is there a prison here? Am I going to end up on some crazy prison break news show?"
"Oh, yes!" Rebecca laughs," But completely not what you're thinking."
How did she know? Was the look of imminent tears on my face?
"Those are the armed guards for Tony Blair. That's his house. He has 24/7 armed protection. That should make you feel quite safe. Nothing ever happens around this area. All the security and extra cameras (I'll tell you about the city cameras another time)."
"Oh," I reply, "I suppose he might not want to come to my house warming party though."
"No," laughs Rebecca, "But Madonna might, she lives on the same block and I'm sure she's always up for a party!"
So there you have it, that’s the story of how my new neighbors (like 3 blocks away) are Tony and the Material Girl.
Needless to say, I was right, Rebecca is a great letting agent and all things are running smoothly now. Fingers crossed, I will be in the new place on the 1st of February!!
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