Comments on: Your very worst rental horror stories http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories Toronto's new weekly city magazine Mon, 20 May 2013 01:45:02 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.1.2 By: Anonymous http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-46336 Anonymous Fri, 17 May 2013 18:57:38 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-46336 Reply to self: "police officer said, 'why don't you just move out'." Hrm... that story sounds familiar! I went through that chat last month. It's really a tenants only choice, unless you can afford a legal battle. Basically, if you rent your home and want to settle in ANYWHERE, you're screwed. If I could convince my husband, I'd already be moving into my Moms basement. Reply to self: “police officer said, ‘why don’t you just move out’.”

Hrm… that story sounds familiar! I went through that chat last month. It’s really a tenants only choice, unless you can afford a legal battle.

Basically, if you rent your home and want to settle in ANYWHERE, you’re screwed.

If I could convince my husband, I’d already be moving into my Moms basement.

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]]> By: Megs http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-46334 Megs Fri, 17 May 2013 18:53:45 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-46334 SERIOUS NOTE: Don't trust the CRB "Certified Rental Building" signs you may see. If you live in a building with that CRB sign and are wondering what it means, it's an association Real Estate Investments Trusts buy into. It can still be led by terrible management who care more about the bottom line than the physical health of their tenants (and I'm sadly NOT being dramatic). Don't move into a CAPRENT / CAPREIT building (hint number one: they operate under two different business names). SERIOUS NOTE: Don’t trust the CRB “Certified Rental Building” signs you may see. If you live in a building with that CRB sign and are wondering what it means, it’s an association Real Estate Investments Trusts buy into.

It can still be led by terrible management who care more about the bottom line than the physical health of their tenants (and I’m sadly NOT being dramatic).

Don’t move into a CAPRENT / CAPREIT building (hint number one: they operate under two different business names).

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]]> By: Cedric http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-42364 Cedric Thu, 06 Dec 2012 02:03:49 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-42364 No, we don't all love the guy's coffee, or his incredibly filthy cafe. Gagging at the memory of this place. No, we don’t all love the guy’s coffee, or his incredibly filthy cafe. Gagging at the memory of this place.

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]]> By: Mister Toronto http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-42187 Mister Toronto Fri, 30 Nov 2012 16:27:39 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-42187 First I read about creeps jerking off on someone's underwear, others getting electrocuted, now I've just read that a landlord has taken posters off of the common area walls, I simply can not bear the injustice, not for another second! First I read about creeps jerking off on someone’s underwear, others getting electrocuted, now I’ve just read that a landlord has taken posters off of the common area walls, I simply can not bear the injustice, not for another second!

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]]> By: George C. Urious http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41776 George C. Urious Wed, 21 Nov 2012 18:29:15 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41776 My first apartment in Toronto proper was a walk-up in the Annex. It was small and not the greatest-looking place, but it was mine, and I loved it at first. Soon enough, though, I was experiencing typical renter's problems: too cold in the winter (while apparently they were baking on the main floor), inconsistent water pressure (to the point where the shower would sometimes just turn off altogether), and not a whole lot of emphasis on security. There was one catch-all mailbox for everyone, mounted on the outside, by the door. It didn't have a lock. The front door was never locked, I guess because the landlord couldn't be bothered to equip all tenants with keys and instruct them to lock it at all times. There was an interior door that led upstairs to the second and third floors. I made sure to keep that one locked. Unfortunately, that lock was never changed, despite the landlord's assurance that it would be after the guy on the second floor moved out. (He seemed more than a little sketchy, and had left entire roomfuls of garbage behind when he moved out.) One night I came home, unlocked the interior door as usual, then up the stairs to find my unit had been broken into. It looked like a real rush job: apartment door kicked in, a bunch of CDs and DVDs taken. They didn't clean me out, luckily, but it still really sucked. Long story short, the police were called, but of course they never found the thieves or my stuff. I always maintained that it very well could've been my former neighbour, or anyone else that had a copy of the key. Or maybe crackheads. Who knows? My first apartment in Toronto proper was a walk-up in the Annex. It was small and not the greatest-looking place, but it was mine, and I loved it at first. Soon enough, though, I was experiencing typical renter’s problems: too cold in the winter (while apparently they were baking on the main floor), inconsistent water pressure (to the point where the shower would sometimes just turn off altogether), and not a whole lot of emphasis on security.

There was one catch-all mailbox for everyone, mounted on the outside, by the door. It didn’t have a lock. The front door was never locked, I guess because the landlord couldn’t be bothered to equip all tenants with keys and instruct them to lock it at all times. There was an interior door that led upstairs to the second and third floors. I made sure to keep that one locked. Unfortunately, that lock was never changed, despite the landlord’s assurance that it would be after the guy on the second floor moved out. (He seemed more than a little sketchy, and had left entire roomfuls of garbage behind when he moved out.)

One night I came home, unlocked the interior door as usual, then up the stairs to find my unit had been broken into. It looked like a real rush job: apartment door kicked in, a bunch of CDs and DVDs taken. They didn’t clean me out, luckily, but it still really sucked. Long story short, the police were called, but of course they never found the thieves or my stuff. I always maintained that it very well could’ve been my former neighbour, or anyone else that had a copy of the key. Or maybe crackheads. Who knows?

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]]> By: Joey Czikk http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41713 Joey Czikk Mon, 19 Nov 2012 23:34:55 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41713 I have a story for all you guys that will be up there with the best. I only randomly came across this week's grid on my way back to Montreal from Toronto, where I now live. Three years ago I finished my undergrad and moved to T.O. I moved into a shared 4-bedroom apartment above a popular coffee shop in Kensington Market. Let's call this coffee shop the "Sunbeat Cafe". The landlord is the super weird owner of the coffee shop. (I didn't say a name David!) INTRO- The Lead Up He refused to let me replace the awful furniture in the main room (which literally has cigarette butt burns in them)...I found that a little weird but I got over it. He would also send a cleaner in once a month even after I had repeatedly told him I was quite capable of handling basic cleaning duties in my living space. I thought he was a little anal, or odd, but whatever I said to myself. PART ONE- Creepy entering of apartment and altering of decorations Then a few times I found that posters I had put up had been taken down. I asked the other 3 roommates if they did it, and they did not. I went downstairs into the coffee shop and asked the landlord if the cleaning lady had been taking down posters. He then replied that it was him who was freely coming in while we were all asleep and taking them down. He claimed that since I only rented a room and not the apartment, he owned it and therefore had access to it whenever he pleased. I kindly asked him if he would give us 24 hours notice before entering. He refused. I kindly asked him if he could give 12 hours notice. He refused. I informed him I would be leaving that Sunday. PART TWO- "I'm Honourable" So he had my $575 deposit which I clearly needed back. We agreed that if I would help him find a replacement then he would give it back to me. I confronted him about the possibility that he just wouldn't return the money."How do I know I'll get my money back?" I'll never forget his response: "Because I'm honourable". So I did ALL the work, showed the room to at least 12 people in between shifts waiting tables in the theatre district. I found a normal student to take it and went on my way. Dude obviously never returned the cheque. Big surprise. Few months later I moved to Montreal to do my grad studies where I live and work still. Before a year had passed I decided to file a claim with the Landlord and Tenant Board of Ontario. The landlord never had the balls to come to the hearing and face me- he hired an agent from MyParalegal.ca (He's a classy guy). I was incredibly unprepared for the legal process and his paralegal actually ended up kind of helping me out because I suspect he thought his client was a soulless douchebag. We eventually settled for $450. It was an incredibly busy period of my grad studies and I couldn't afford to keep busing back to T.O to deal with it. I agreed and took the win in principal. So, Kensington market coffee drinkers, I know you all love this guy's coffee, but just know what kind of a person you're dealing with. I was 21 years old and got totally fucked with. It was a very tough experience I have a story for all you guys that will be up there with the best. I only randomly came across this week’s grid on my way back to Montreal from Toronto, where I now live.

Three years ago I finished my undergrad and moved to T.O. I moved into a shared 4-bedroom apartment above a popular coffee shop in Kensington Market. Let’s call this coffee shop the “Sunbeat Cafe”. The landlord is the super weird owner of the coffee shop. (I didn’t say a name David!)

INTRO- The Lead Up

He refused to let me replace the awful furniture in the main room (which literally has cigarette butt burns in them)…I found that a little weird but I got over it. He would also send a cleaner in once a month even after I had repeatedly told him I was quite capable of handling basic cleaning duties in my living space.

I thought he was a little anal, or odd, but whatever I said to myself.

PART ONE- Creepy entering of apartment and altering of decorations

Then a few times I found that posters I had put up had been taken down. I asked the other 3 roommates if they did it, and they did not. I went downstairs into the coffee shop and asked the landlord if the cleaning lady had been taking down posters. He then replied that it was him who was freely coming in while we were all asleep and taking them down.

He claimed that since I only rented a room and not the apartment, he owned it and therefore had access to it whenever he pleased. I kindly asked him if he would give us 24 hours notice before entering. He refused. I kindly asked him if he could give 12 hours notice. He refused. I informed him I would be leaving that Sunday.

PART TWO- “I’m Honourable”

So he had my $575 deposit which I clearly needed back. We agreed that if I would help him find a replacement then he would give it back to me. I confronted him about the possibility that he just wouldn’t return the money.”How do I know I’ll get my money back?”

I’ll never forget his response: “Because I’m honourable”.

So I did ALL the work, showed the room to at least 12 people in between shifts waiting tables in the theatre district. I found a normal student to take it and went on my way.

Dude obviously never returned the cheque. Big surprise.

Few months later I moved to Montreal to do my grad studies where I live and work still. Before a year had passed I decided to file a claim with the Landlord and Tenant Board of Ontario. The landlord never had the balls to come to the hearing and face me- he hired an agent from MyParalegal.ca (He’s a classy guy).

I was incredibly unprepared for the legal process and his paralegal actually ended up kind of helping me out because I suspect he thought his client was a soulless douchebag. We eventually settled for $450. It was an incredibly busy period of my grad studies and I couldn’t afford to keep busing back to T.O to deal with it. I agreed and took the win in principal.

So, Kensington market coffee drinkers, I know you all love this guy’s coffee, but just know what kind of a person you’re dealing with. I was 21 years old and got totally fucked with. It was a very tough experience

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]]> By: Mindy http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41687 Mindy Sun, 18 Nov 2012 18:13:51 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41687 When I was an undergrad at U of T, I rented a room in a huge old house on the edge of a popular downtown park. It was $440/month, which fit my OSAP budget, and had its own private balcony. I figured the price was worth the odd roomies (one of whom answered the door in a velour bathrobe when I went to see the place - I would learn this was his default outfit) I would be sharing a kitchen and bathroom with. It was my first ever place, and my standards were low. For quite a while, things were fine - I had my cosy sanctuary and spent little time in the common spaces. The landlord was friendly enough but odd, and it turned out that he spent half the year in Europe, leaving his deranged ex-wife, who resided in the coach house and was in a relationship with the bathrobe-clad roomie (?!) in charge of the property. She was fond of leaving accusatory passive-aggressive notes in the kitchen when things hadn't been cleaned properly, and was clearly emotionally unstable. Things started to get really weird when another roomie, a quiet guy who I hadn't spoken to much, apparently took a shine to me. I made a passing remark on a hot summer day ("I wish my balcony had a screen door to let in some air.."), only to return after a weekend away to find that the bathrobe-wearer and ex-wife of landlady had given the quiet roomie access to my space (He told them that I had given him permission), where he had installed a screen door without my knowledge!! I was pleased with the door but thoroughly skeeved out that he had been traipsing into my space without my knowledge. I was young and still enjoying the cheap rent, so I stayed and did my best to avoid quiet guy, who shortly afterwards moved out. A few months later with winter approaching, the house became overrun with mice, some of which were slowly chewing a hole through the ceiling above my bed, raining droppings and sawdust down on me. The landlord put down traps which were completely inadequate against the rapidly multiplying hordes of tiny rodents, and which the other roommates and I had the hideous task of emptying on a very regular basis. Things went really sour when bathrobe guy and the landlord's ex-wife broke up (neither of them moved). She started leaving extra-angry notes, and I began spending more and more time at my boyfriend's apartment. I made the mistake of leaving a snarky reply to one of the notes, explaining that the kitchen mess was not mine as I was barely living there anymore (and had been out of town for the week leading up to the note). Emotionally unstable ex-wife flipped out and tried to evict me for being "disrespectful." I had had enough and decided to move (though to be clear, it was NOT an eviction, as I had done nothing wrong), but not before she let herself into my space without knocking to show it to a prospective tenant.. The yelling match between me and that woman left the prospective tenant rightly running for the exit. I did enjoy my private parkside balcony, but the insanity in that house proved too much even for my poor-student standards. When I was an undergrad at U of T, I rented a room in a huge old house on the edge of a popular downtown park. It was $440/month, which fit my OSAP budget, and had its own private balcony. I figured the price was worth the odd roomies (one of whom answered the door in a velour bathrobe when I went to see the place – I would learn this was his default outfit) I would be sharing a kitchen and bathroom with. It was my first ever place, and my standards were low. For quite a while, things were fine – I had my cosy sanctuary and spent little time in the common spaces.
The landlord was friendly enough but odd, and it turned out that he spent half the year in Europe, leaving his deranged ex-wife, who resided in the coach house and was in a relationship with the bathrobe-clad roomie (?!) in charge of the property. She was fond of leaving accusatory passive-aggressive notes in the kitchen when things hadn’t been cleaned properly, and was clearly emotionally unstable.
Things started to get really weird when another roomie, a quiet guy who I hadn’t spoken to much, apparently took a shine to me. I made a passing remark on a hot summer day (“I wish my balcony had a screen door to let in some air..”), only to return after a weekend away to find that the bathrobe-wearer and ex-wife of landlady had given the quiet roomie access to my space (He told them that I had given him permission), where he had installed a screen door without my knowledge!! I was pleased with the door but thoroughly skeeved out that he had been traipsing into my space without my knowledge.
I was young and still enjoying the cheap rent, so I stayed and did my best to avoid quiet guy, who shortly afterwards moved out.
A few months later with winter approaching, the house became overrun with mice, some of which were slowly chewing a hole through the ceiling above my bed, raining droppings and sawdust down on me. The landlord put down traps which were completely inadequate against the rapidly multiplying hordes of tiny rodents, and which the other roommates and I had the hideous task of emptying on a very regular basis.
Things went really sour when bathrobe guy and the landlord’s ex-wife broke up (neither of them moved). She started leaving extra-angry notes, and I began spending more and more time at my boyfriend’s apartment. I made the mistake of leaving a snarky reply to one of the notes, explaining that the kitchen mess was not mine as I was barely living there anymore (and had been out of town for the week leading up to the note). Emotionally unstable ex-wife flipped out and tried to evict me for being “disrespectful.” I had had enough and decided to move (though to be clear, it was NOT an eviction, as I had done nothing wrong), but not before she let herself into my space without knocking to show it to a prospective tenant.. The yelling match between me and that woman left the prospective tenant rightly running for the exit.
I did enjoy my private parkside balcony, but the insanity in that house proved too much even for my poor-student standards.

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]]> By: Meow http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41655 Meow Sat, 17 Nov 2012 05:49:09 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41655 My very favourite was my first apartment, a $700-a-month bachelor at Church and Wellesley, which promptly filled up with mice the first summer I lived there. We got traps, sucked it up, and coped -- until the roaches started to appear. At that point we went to the super, and then the landlord proper, to talk about inspections, spraying, anything. Their response was to put on a slightly quizzical expression and go: "Well, you could get a cat. They don't like cats." We started looking for a new place the very next day. Bonus: We had to fight them for our key deposit afterwards, because the landlord was pissed that his fridge wasn't spotless. You'd think he'd have been more pissed about the cockroaches all over the walls. Go figure. My very favourite was my first apartment, a $700-a-month bachelor at Church and Wellesley, which promptly filled up with mice the first summer I lived there. We got traps, sucked it up, and coped — until the roaches started to appear.

At that point we went to the super, and then the landlord proper, to talk about inspections, spraying, anything. Their response was to put on a slightly quizzical expression and go: “Well, you could get a cat. They don’t like cats.”

We started looking for a new place the very next day.

Bonus: We had to fight them for our key deposit afterwards, because the landlord was pissed that his fridge wasn’t spotless. You’d think he’d have been more pissed about the cockroaches all over the walls. Go figure.

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]]> By: David Topping http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41450 David Topping Tue, 13 Nov 2012 16:20:16 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41450 (A friendly reminder to everyone posting comments here—we're actively removing comments that have any identifying information about landlords or tenants, especially names. So please don't leave comments with any of that in 'em, or they'll be removed. Thanks!) (A friendly reminder to everyone posting comments here—we’re actively removing comments that have any identifying information about landlords or tenants, especially names. So please don’t leave comments with any of that in ‘em, or they’ll be removed. Thanks!)

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]]> By: The Unknown Torontonian http://www.thegridto.com/life/real-estate/your-very-worst-rental-horror-stories/#comment-41447 The Unknown Torontonian Tue, 13 Nov 2012 16:04:33 +0000 http://www.thegridto.com/?p=80066#comment-41447 Yeah, a real laff riot. Ass. Yeah, a real laff riot. Ass.

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