D’you know what? I am sick to the back teeth of my letting agents. The biggest plus with The Great Migration is that I won’t have to deal with these f*ckwits any longer. Now, I know that any usage of the F-work could be considered unnecessary, and I apologise for using it, but I feel a strong need to scrawl it in big red letters all over the place, having just got off the phone to them. I have never met such a useless bunch. SIX months to repair a section of ceiling. SIX months of me calling, writing, going in to the office and asking them to fix it, then pointing out that the contract states that they really should do it within an “acceptable” time period, then almost begging them. After the attitude of the staff member on the weekend I snapped. That was it, really f*ck them. So I complained to head office.
Suddenly things are getting done. A contractor came in yesterday to start the repairs. Nobody said that he would be in again today. Until 5 minutes ago when he called to say that he was entering the property, was it convenient? And what if it wasn’t!? My parents are coming to stay tonight because Stepdad is going into my local hospital tomorrow as it has one of the best coronary units around. What if they had come to stay last night? They would still, likely, be in bed. Or The Mother might be up wandering around in her nightie - not a pretty sight. Stepdad doesn’t need the fright of someone letting themselves into my flat - he’s going into hospital because his ticker is dodgy enough, thank you very much!
So, I ask why I wasn’t notified in advance that this would be a two-day job. The guy on the other end of the line - who could barely string two words together in a thick Southern drawl (think farrrrrmaaaarrr because that is what the “local chavvy” population of Little City actually souwnd loike, arll rouwnded vow-els and arll thart) - told me that (and please excuse if I don’t type in the accent because my brain is hurting already today) “fine, I won’t go in and finish it. I’ll leave it and that’ll be the end of it then.”
WHAT THE F*CK?!?!?!?!? What kind of attitude is that!?
Fine then, go f*ck yourself. If all tenants refused to stand for it, you’d find yourself out of a job pretty quick.
Mr Frog has called for a human cull. On his list of people to send packing from God’s green earth he includes estate agents. Now, he is referring to estate agents in the sales sense. Lets extend this to lettings agents as well, and blast these f*ckers off the planet. May I suggest a slow and painful death - how about being slowly kicked to death by the tenants who are so full of frustration after a year of your f*cking bullsh*t that they want to savour every blow and release their torment kick by kick? Don’t be alarmed, I am not a mass murdering psycho. Just a normal person who has had it up to here *gestures* with these penny-pinching, buck passing bastards.
What I hate about the evil estate agents is that they lie so much. It’s obviously something in their training because most people would be satisfied with an explanation. Something like “I will send someone to fix your ceiling but the first appointment I have is not for 90 years” would be better than “I’ll arrange it. No worries.” and then not doing anything.
Or…or…or when someone comes round to look at my house to buy it and the estate agent lies and tells me that they are off in a taxi to look at another place when I know that they aren’t. The lying liars.
Or … or … when you get property particulars from estate agents where the premises look so large, lush and liveable .. but yet, on viewing, you find out that they smell like the inside of a stale dogs bed and have more holes/cracks/major foundation problems than a condemned rotting shack overlooking the North Circular. “Yes, this might need a lick of paint” one estate agent reluctantly agreed as he showed me round a house that even a tramp would’ve found unsettling.
When I lived in London, I called up my estate agen once because when it rained ALOT, the roof in the kitchen would leak a little. I figured they might want to fix it right away seeing as there was obviously a LITTLE crack in the roof and the water was just going to make it worse.
Now, I’m not a builder, but my common sense told me that sooner, in this case, was better than later.
We called them once a week for a year and by the end of it, there was a HOLE where we could see the SKY in our kitchen. Like a skylight. They STILL wouldn’t fix it.
They only sent in people to fix it when my flatmate’s bf called them pretending to be a lawyer, saying that we were going to sue because we were getting ill from the damp and cold.
They came the next day.
I’d like to just say that compared to London, my landlords here in Canada have all been saints. They come THE SAME DAY YOU CALL THEM. Seriously. So maybe rid the world of British estate agents only.
Or…or….or arranging a viewing for a lovely new house that looks just perfect and is in your price range. When you go and take a half day off work to goand see it looks smashing so you put an offer in. That’s when the lying little oik decides to tell you that they sold it to someone else a minute before and that they were only using you to push the sale through.
Grr!
Last year, I had no electricity/hot water for 3 days!!!!!!
When I complained, he said “I had no idea about property maintenance”!!!!!!!!!
It was an easily accessible cable that had burned out!!!!!!!!!!
F……..ing Wa……kers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, I know your pain darling. Estate Agents [some] really are the devil’s spawn!