AGBB

I met Justin Forman (DRE# 1 878 121) and Dan Barnes July of 2012 while their apartment, 1149 N. Central ave, was under construction. Their father/​grandpa, Raymond Barnes owns the complex, whom I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting. I had been driving around that day basically looking for «for rent» signs and an adjacent two bed room was available, but I really wanted the one bed room. The one bedroom apartment had no blinds, horrible carpet and non-​existent bathroom ceiling vents or covers. They were nice enough to leave behind 4 buckets of paint with, Justin’s handwriting on it, for improvements that never happened.
:MY PART TIME JOB AS A HANDYMAN/​CHANNELING MY INNER MACGYVER:
I took the place as-​is since I need to move quick. I figured a few minor improvements would be managable. I went to IKEA and shopped for my own blinds and put them up, I was never reimbursed for this (I was OK with it). The ceiling vent wasn’t too much of an issue because the apartment had fairly good circulation, although I always worried about snakes.
Within a month I became acquainted to LA temperatures — it was 101. But no problem! The apartment came with an AC! (Which, for some reason, was mounted in such a way that the power cord was 3 inches above the actual outlet — no problem, I just bought an extension cord). So I turn the thing on, adjust it to 60 (so hot!) and bask in the cool air… for about 20 minutes until it tripped the breaker. I call and text the phone numbers for the handy people. He comes by and basically says «well it does work», as though it was my fault for not understanding that it was a «20 minute AC only”-model, who knew these existed!
I basically don’t bother with the AC anymore, not just because it doesn’t work, but also because its power cord gets incredibly hot when turned on — almost as bad as a stove coil on medium heat. Later I learned that this is because the wiring in the unit isn’t properly grounded — I actually PAID an expert to check it out, you know, to ensure my safety. 3 fans later in my bedroom with buckets of ice in front of them — the poor man’s AC as they say — I’m realizing that my east-​facing wall retains heat so well that at 11 PM some evenings the temperature in the bedroom was hovering around 85. I suspect there was a sale for heat-​retaining mortar (perhaps for a pizza oven) at some science fair that was used to construct their walls. During certain summers I actually would just stay at work on the weekends or after work just to survive!
A few months later I start to see crickets pop up everywhere in the apartment. No problem! I’m good with bugs/​eradication. I go to home depot, buy bug spray and traps, but every morning, at least 5 or 6 congregate in my bathroom — making pattering sounds as they scurry about the floor. It wasn’t until I was doing my business in the bathroom one morning that I realize where they’re coming from — the HOLE IN THE CEILING where a properly installed vent and cover should be. No problem! I go to the store and buy some duct tape and «macgyver» my own cover, if you will.
:COMMUNICATION:
3 years pass and I learn to cope. Mind you, about a year in I expect the landlord to not get back to me until 2 days later. The one time the landlord picks up the phone from their «emergency» number for a plumbing issue the lady who answers, Amanda Barnes, actually says something to the effect of «do not call us about this, we will call you when we are ready for this issue». Also, Justin, the younger of the group, basically only communicates through text. I caught him once sweeping the soot-​like derbies from the walkways once to, in his words, «to get over a hangover», but that’s it. He responds to all of his texts with «ask [insert brothers name here] to do it».
Two months before I move out I tell the landlord (‘s answering machine) my move out date. You know, to give them sometime to find another another aspiring handyman-​tenant like myself. I put my Notice to Vacate with my last month of rent in their mailbox next door and then schedule cleaners and a carpet cleaner to shampoo everything. About $ 450 later I pack all my things and get ready for the 2^nd biggest move of my life.
FINALLY a check comes in with my deposit… for $ 167.73. They charge me for an absolute renovation: new paint, new blinds, $ 1,200 for carpet — basically ALL THE THINGS I didn’t have when I moved in.
All these years I wish I had met Raymond Barnes, the father and owner. Was it a father’s tradition to have such low standards?