A dose of moral clauses
I’VE FINALLY found a house, and signed a lease and everything (a real lease this time), so it’s time to publish a list of the reasons for which myself and my two sterling housemates, an american boy and american girl, have been turned away in this month of searching.
– In the first house, we were turned down because the landlord received a better deal. the next day, however, a different property broker brought us to see the same property – when confronted, the landlord basically said the house was not available to us. We think this may be because the girl and I aren’t married.
– We were in the second house discussing how long it would take for us to move in with the landlady, when she said “Oh, and the property is for vegetarians only. No meat in the house.” I had to resist the strong urge to walk out directly. Our house hunt got so desperate at one point, we considered a “I’ve seen the error of my ways and will never eat meat again” mea culpa.
– The third house, and then some, turned us down because we weren’t a family.
– Another house, on which we had nearly sealed the deal, wanted a single company to sign the lease, and our individual three companies would never have done that.
– By far the BEST turn-down we received was when, after telling the landlord what our jobs were, he replied with: “We don’t rent the place to journalists. They’re bad people and there’s a higher chance police will raid the house.” Cheers, guy.
– Christina, the girl in our trio of intrepid flathunters (Indiana Homes?) met with a female University lecturer who was so nice and keen to rent the house she could have given us the keys on the same day. When she found out Christina was living with two boys, the conversation changed to “Do you know who they are? have you met their families? how can you trust them?” I’m not sure even Christina can answer those questions right now, but clearly it’s less of a problem for her than it was for the professor!
SPECIAL GUEST APPEARANCE
– I met an Austrian embassy worker who said he had viewed ’50 to 60′ places before he’d found a house. One landlord, he recalled to me, said “Only blood relatives can visit you in this house.” And he was clear to specify – non-blood relatives couldn’t even cross the threshold.