The lease on this apartment, in which I have lived since 2005, expires at the end of June. You would think that I could rest easy, knowing that I am a quiet, model tenant who always pays the rent on time, that I would not have to worry about negotiating the renewal. Instead, I lose sleep at night, thinking about the nasty man who manages the property.
I had wanted to already find a new place, but my emergency appendecteomy put the search on hold for several weeks. In the worst case scenario, I renew my lease here, find a new place and give them one month's notice (as per the stipulation in the contract), break the lease and then move.
It may sound very TV sitcom 1950's, but there is some part of me that believes that if I had a husband, a "man of the house," he could deal more effectively with the landlord; Israeli men tend to respect others of their gender over the "weaker sex," and would be less likely to try extortion, financial or emotional. (Similar to the situation of buying a new car, getting dry cleaning done, or having a hair cut: men pay less than women.)
Instead, I must create a set of arguments in my favor, possibly beg, and though it makes me ill, explain the importance of stability for the sake of my daughter. No one, not even a crabby 85 year old slum lord can resist a baby, right?
1 comment:
Wrong. I rented one place for over 13 years. When I eventually left, after 13 years of giving them no trouble and a secure income, they would not move an inch away from the signed contract in my favour (e.g. If I stayed an extra few nights I would have to pay for the month). What can I say after 13 years? They didn't cheat me.
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