Jugs*

MY RENTAL POLICY

For a few years I was a landlord. My wife and I bought and lived in a two-flat, Chicagoans call a large house split into two dwellings some time in the past. We fixed it up, bought another and fixed that up, bought a single family home and rented the four units.

My actual internal policy was no pets, no kids, no minorities, but I could be swayed on that last one if they held a job. No one had a job, usually stating child support as income on the application. Generally, the renters were good. I was available to fix things quickly, I had low rents. I'm fair. Then there are friends.

Let's just call him Jughead. Jugs for short. A long time pal, when we moved to the house, Jugs wanted to rent the flat. I told him it was the highest rent and he had to pay on time so we wouldn't be behind the 8ball if any of the others went deadbeat. He agreed to my conditions and, like most, for the first year was timely.

My rental policy was such: No contract, handshake agreement. The renter pays the first of the month. If late, the days accumulate and when reaching 30, the rent goes up 10% and days go back to zero. They had the option to pay early and decrease that number but no one ever did. Simple. Also, it's my house, not yours, and I'll walk in whenever it is necessary.

Well, Jugs started slipping and the days added up quickly. He always appealed to our friendship, as if, we were the only people involved in this monthly transaction. "How many days are we up to, Jugs?" every month. Over the limit I raised the rent. You would have thought I was Simon LeGree, big bad man. It quickly, again, in the next couple of months went over 30.

Jugs got into party. One day as I was driving by I saw some cars out front belonging to some mutual friends. I thought I'd join them and stopped. The back door was locked, I unlocked it and went in. They had the medicine cabinet mirror off its hinges and were cutting up lines. In all his agitated state he was angry I walked in. I told him 'tough shit' and we will talk after he sobers up. On walking out I noticed other destruction happening to our property.

He paid late a few more months and, finally, I told him to move out. His response - "You can't do that. I'm going to Europe in the fall!"

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